Ready to roll, thanks to all of Wayne's gear! He really set me up. I would have been in a world of hurt without him. Sweet bike, front and back racks, panniers, cammelback, various lights, tools, bright yellow rain jacket. Basically he gave me everything except my tent, tarp, and underwear.
I stayed with good friends of Lindsey's in Lynchburg, Jung and Jason and their super fun son Walden. They were so kind! I was so smelly. Day two meant a shorter ride to Roanoke. Look above at the elevation map - check out the dip about a third of the way from the left. That's 221 crossing the Big Otter River, my first intense hill of the trip, maybe number 3 or 4 on my list of feel the burn climbs. The dip next is the Little Otter River.
I was almost to Roanoke when I stopped for a cup of coffee. Now where did I put my money bag (a ziplock with my credit card, my license, my health insurance card, and my phone)? Yep. I'd left it in Lynchburg. Lesson number three: remember to remember the important things you shouldn't forget.
Once in Roanoke, my first stop was the visitor's center, where they graciously let me use their phone. Thank goodness I remembered Lindsey's phone number! I left a message for Lindsey and headed for the bank. "Well, see, I don't have my bank card, or my wallet, or any kind of i.d., but I swear I'm David Vinson." The teller played 20 questions with me, I did my very best impersonation of myself, and believe it or not they gave me some cash. Maybe they could tell I was too hapless to be a thief. Just as I was about to leave another bank employee came out of a back office and called to me, "Excuse me sir? I think your wife is on the phone." Lindsey's got detective skills! I spent the night with Zach, a friendly, generous host from warmshowers.org, and Jung and Jason found my stuff and mailed it ahead to the trip's halfway point, Jefferson City, TN. 
Originally I'd planned to ride to Pulaski on day three and camp at Gatewood park, but I decided to try to make it closer to Wytheville. See the big climb in the elevation map above? Worst hill ever! That's 460 going up into Christiansburg. Later in the ride however, the sun broke through the clouds and I supremely enjoyed pedaling down 626 along the New River past Radford. I didn't quite make it to Wytheville and camped for the night in a pretty little creekside RV park, Pioneer Village. The kind hostess, after checking me in and hearing of my misadventures (she let me use her phone, too), sighed in genuine concern and asked, "what on earth would compel you to do this?" By that point it was raining again and she let me pitch my tent under a picnic shelter.
Rain rain rain. I had quite a bit of rain, mostly light rains and drizzles, during the first four or five days. The weather man said the jet stream was going around its elbow to get to its ear. I got tired of being wet, but it kept me cool, and the mountain clouds were spectacular. One minute dark billows, next curls and swirls, then a teasing splash of blue or sun, finally a plain dusty gray blanket, as if God had pulled his granny's old bed spread across the sky. Sometimes various kinds of clouds danced or piled up in layers. Day four was a beautiful ride, mostly up or down, as you can see above, but nothing absurd. For some reason I thought Marion was right around the corner from Abingdon, my destination. I stopped to buy bananas and cheerily asked the grocer, "what are we, 10 miles from Abingdon?" She saw my bicycle attire. "Sorry, hun, more like 30." Lesson four: look at a map!
In Abingdon I stayed with a fellow Danvillian, my brother John's good buddy Carter. What a great host! And I was inspired to hear about his work for congressional candidate Anthony Flaccavento, whose signs I saw all over southwest VA. "The economy is for the people, plain and simple." Amen!
Day five was the longest ride, Abingdon to Jefferson City, TN, made longer by one of my many missed turns. My worst mistake was leaving Roanoke...I went exactly the wrong way almost immediately, then after getting back on track I got mixed again up near Salem. This time I made it successfully through the most complicated section of google's bike directions, scooting around Bristol, but pedaled past a turn somewhere I think on TN 75 or 93, one of east Tennessee many beautiful byways. I stopped at a church yard sale, asked for directions, and enjoyed listening to three church matrons debate the best route to Jefferson City. The consensus was to keep it simple, get to Morristown and stay on 11E. It's busy but there is a wide shoulder.
Hey check out Morristown's cool double level main street walkways. Lesson five: all those little towns whose interstate exit signs you pass as you drive to Alabama once or twice a year...stop and visit sometime!
In Jeff City my amazing, incomparable hosts Lea Ann and Ross Brummett took me out for dinner. "We've got two rules," Ross told me beforehand, "you eat as much as you possibly can, and we're paying." I didn't protest either rule. After dinner they gave me a tour of town and the beautiful campus of Carson Newman.
Lea Ann snapped a picture of me before I left the next morning. Day six was mostly sunny. I had my first flat outside of Knoxville, another city in which I got slightly lost, but I enjoyed its wonderful greenways. Roanoke, Knoxville, and Collegedale were memorable for their beautiful paved walking/biking trails, usually following rivers or creeks. Here's a picture down by the Tenneessee River in Knoxville.
I guess day six was a Saturday, which explains why I had a lot more bicycle friends that day. Once I admitted to myself that I was lost, I met and tagged along with a kind young man riding toward the southwestern edge of the city, where I rejoined US11, sharing the road with what seemed like an inordinate amount of trucks pulling boats. Traffic lightened up outside of Lenoir City. I made it just past Sweetwater and camped at Tenneessee Country Campground in Niota, TN.Day 7 was my shortest ride, basically a rest day, including a long nap, thanks to more wonderful hosts, Megan and Ryan, from warmshowers in Cleveland, TN.
At some point that morning I came across this beautiful fox, recently dead in the road. It looked so elegant and perfectly designed for sneaking through the forest, laying there in profile against the pavement. There was only a little bit of blood by its mouth, but I found it was already stiff as a board as I dragged it to the grass. Roadkill was a big part of my landscape. Lesson six: there is a lot on the highway that you can't see, or don't normally see, from the car. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that not a mile went by without at least some roadkill remnant. Squirrels, rabbits, possum, raccoons, snakes, turtles, deer, and crows were most common. Once in Alabama I saw mostly dead armadillos. 
Day 8 began with fog and mist but cleared up nicely. My directions took me gently through Chattanooga neighborhoods, up and down some big hills in Tennessee and Georgia, and south around Nickajack Lake on TN 156. Here's a picture of a big cave outside of which I ate lunch and took a quick swim. TN 156 was gorgeous, and is worth a detour if you're ever on I-24 between Chattanooga and South Pittsburg.
Did you know South Pittsburg is home to the National Cornbread Festival? Now you do! That's lesson seven. Below is a picture of this big blue bridge crossing the TN river just outside of South Pittsburg. As long as I can remember, I've wanted to cross this bridge (it runs perpendicular to 72, so you can see it clearly from the highway). Well I finally crossed it.
Again on day 8 I changed my camping plans. I made it to my original destination west of Stevenson, AL, but it was still somewhat early afternoon, and the campground was mostly a roadside gravel parkinglot with electrical hookups. I called Mom to ask for camping advice, and she directed me toward the marina in Scottsboro. Here's my little set-up below. 72 from South Pittsburg to Scottsboro is busy, but very flat, with very wide shoulders, so I felt safe, except during an intimidating thunderstorm. At camp I met a fascinating young man who was touring the south east's parks and forests before starting a position at the Tombigbee National Forest in Mississippi.
