Day 8 Claytor Lake to Grindstone Campground west of Troutdale, 77 miles (mostly up hill)

Left reasonably early after a wind-swept night and a lot of rain. The storms that were crossing over from Kentucky thundered over just as we got the tent up and after the camp guardian told us which safehouse had a basement if the storm really picked up. Was feeling the legs badly this morning and I think this was a consequence of last nights somewhat slapdash dinner with very little protein. But we got motoring and the cloudy, threatening sky kept temperatures down so this and the sporadic headwind really made the conditions very pleasant.


We stopped to chat briefly with a cyclist heading east who had some intertesting tales about the infamous dogs and hills of Kentucky, he also mentioned the number of east-bound 'Trans-Amers' we'll be meeting, as many people started at the begining of the summer and will be finishing off quite soon. There is something so natural about diving into a full on conversation with a complete stranger and having something so personal as an instant connection, you almost feel as though you know them straight away. We've decided to buy a perminant marker so fellow adventures we meet on the road can sign our dry bag as a nice memento.
Well after two feet of subway, we had more gas in the tank to takle the long road back up tp the Appilachian trail. Extreamly anoyingly the GPS ran out of battery again so we didn't get to record all of the ride but will pick it up tomorrow. The higher we climbed the cooler it got which is such a welcome relief. Going slow also makes you appreciate the scenery a little more with the frequency of dairy farms and the rolling green landscape, it reminds me a lot of Cheshire. This ride has given us quite an introduction into the funa of the eastern states, sadly most of it is road kill but that is a sporadict and diverse mix. We have also seen a lot of deer (alive) and interestly a live groundhog. We also passed through a diversity of towns, its hard to describe but this place is so big, there is so much room, settlements are so spread out its hard to understand where you are in relation to the so called town on the map. One place we went through for about 30 minutes was just a series of properties facing onto the road and I was shocked to see a lady strimming the bank beside the road outside of a house with a massive hulstered handgun, of the a desert egale variety. I know its normal in some places but it is something so different for a Norfolk boy!

We finally made it into our state forest camp ground high in the hills and had a delightful dinner with a lot of protein. We were invited to chat to a lovely family who were breaking in their newly purchased caravan, by caravan we're talking American; so everything you'll find in a normal home but on wheels. We chatted about all sorts from motor sport to the conduction of materials in mobile phones. Bud had been bringing his son up to this campsite ever since he was 4 and as we found out he was just about to start highschool in a few weeks time. We had a fabulous evening with plently of freshly baked cookies to keep our energy up for tomorrows ride. They were even complimenty about our accents. By 9pm, the 77miles of weariness started to really set in, so we hit the tent and were soon off to sleep thinking about another exciting day and looking forward to many more.