We made it to the train station without incident with plenty of time to get checked in and ready for our train ride. It was our first time in the Durham Amtrak station, which, by the way, is beautiful. As the temperature was somewhere in the 40's this morning, we donned our warm biking gear, ready to roll.
There is just something about a train that is romantic and classy in and of itself. As ours approached, we all felt excited for the day's adventure. Our train was a beaut in all its blue North Carolina glory (arriving to the station below).
We enjoyed a very relaxing and comfortable 1-hour ride on The Piedmont train. I was a little nervous about "giving up" my bike to be loaded into the baggage car (I adore my bike), but they had great bike racks upon which our bikes were all hung. The 4 of us enjoyed chatting and relaxing all the way to Greensboro. The horrible weather from yesterday (huge thunderstorms with terrifying tornadoes that killed 22 in NC alone) had thankfully passed, and the day was clear and bright. We all had thoughts of the previous day's devastation on our minds and were grateful we'd rescheduled this ride from yesterday, as originally planned, to today. All in all, the day looked very promising.
As our train pulled out of the station in Greensboro, we got our gear together and prepared for our day's adventure. This was going to be a great day!
As we left the Greensboro train station on our bikes, we started off with some real climbs which eventually turned into more rolling hills. I asked Wes how the rollers compare with what I can expect in Louisville, and he reported that it was a great route for preparation. Good for us! The scenery and landscape were gorgeous, and we were having a great time. Mariana hadn't ridden with us in a few weeks, and the distance was going to be a new PR for her (and for me as well). As such, we were trying to take it somewhat easy and be sure we paced ourselves for the entirety of the ride. **It must be noted that Wes 1) rode his cross bike (as opposed to his faster road bike) so he wouldn't smoke us all, and 2) carried all of our extra gear in his panniers, which likely weighed around 20 pounds. AND YET, he still flew up the hills way faster than all of us. That guy's an animal. Shouldn't some of that rub off just by virtue of the fact that I'm married to him?!
We made a couple rest stops as we needed and took full advantage of "the last gas station/place to buy any water or food for the next 40 miles" of our ride. This was going to be a very rural ride. Leaving the aforementioned last gas station, we saw the following sign: The Sword of Peace, Pathway to Freedom right next to the Chapel Hill sign. I didn't realize the route to Chapel Hill was the Pathway to Freedom, but hey, that was our route so all the better.
Okay. In case you missed it, this was a very rural route. Rural to the point, we would later find out, that there are no leash laws for the dogs. Part of why we decided on this route was precisely because of the rural-ness: fewer cars to contend with. Win! And in fact, there weren't many vehicles on the roads at all. It was a delightful, unusual treat to be able to ride two across and have conversation with our friends without much fear of being hit by thoughtless drivers. Of course, we remained on the defensive all the same, but it was generally a relaxing ride.
There were, however, dogs. Three or four times we rode past houses that had dogs that ran nearly to the road (thank God for the invisible fence, I say!) and made quite a racket as we passed. I nearly became used to this, until almost exactly halfway back to Durham (around mile 32 or 33) we encountered 3 large black dogs that came right onto the road, barking like mad, as if they were going to take us down. We were riding single file at this point in this order: Wes, Rebecca, Mariana, and then Kenneth. At the time, we were coming off a hill and probably rolling along somewhere around 18mph. Wes avoided the dogs. Fully expecting the dogs to move out of our way (naive assumption, I learned), I hammered and was surprised to clip one of the dogs (surprised because he did not back down at the mere sight of the speed demon I'd instantly become). He seemed undaunted, and I was grateful not to have been bitten or knocked over by this black behemoth in our path.
Mariana, however, who was right behind me, was not as lucky. As best as we can all surmise, she ran full force into one of the dogs as he ran across the street into our pack. These were large black dogs (perhaps lab mixes of some sort) that had some real girth. She was instantly stopped dead in her tracks thanks to the big, black dog-of-a-wall that her bike had just made contact with. The dog yelped, and Mariana went flying, next making contact with the road. Wes and I realized what was happening just as it happened and did a quick 180. Mariana stayed down for what seemed like forever but was probably more like 30 seconds. She was in A LOT of pain and had road rash all over her right side, including her shoulder, elbow, hip, and knuckles on her right hand. After a few minutes, she removed her gloves, which revealed a magically-immediately-appearing humongous goose eggish looking *reaction* on her right hand. For effect, I've included the immediate picture of her hand (directly below) and the hospital (yes, hospital) picture of the same hand a few hours post-impact. Don't be fooled: the second photo below looks like a foot, but it is indeed Mariana's right hand. OUCH.
The owners of the house we were in front of (and owners, as it turns out, of the dogs) came out to help. They'd heard a commotion, looked, and saw us all in the road with Mariana. As it turns out, they brought us an ice pack for Mariana's hand and first aid kit, peroxide, and ibuprofen to clean her up. They were very helpful and accommodating. In the end, their dogs weren't vicious at all (although how in the world could we have known that when they charged us the way the had?!). They were just stupid.
Mariana could not have been braver. Not a tear was shed. I repeat this for emphasis: NOT A TEAR WAS SHED. I later told her I would have been sobbing as soon as I peeled myself up from the road, but she was as brave as could be. She is my new hero. As best I could, I cleaned and bandaged her up. At one point, she even entertained the idea of trying to ride with us to the next town (which was far away). There would be no riding, however, for Mariana. She was way too banged up, and her hand looked horrible. We had to figure out what to do, as we were in the middle of basically nowhere (we hadn't yet gone the 40 miles to the next gas station, mind you).
The homeowners offered to give us all a ride to the nearest store (a Dollar General) about 5 miles away. Don't be fooled, this wasn't really a town. There was a Dollar General store, a restaurant, a gas station, and a fire station. Period. We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.
We decided Mariana and I would take that ride from the nice people with the stupid dogs, and Wes and Kenneth would book it (and I mean, they BOOKED IT) back to Durham on their bikes to get a car to come back and pick us up. We calculated it would be 2.5 or so hours at the Dollar General.
Wes and Kenneth took off, and Mariana and I rode with the wife homeowner to the Dollar General with our bikes in the back of her truck. In the meantime, Mariana got in touch with a friend of hers who lived close-ish and was able to pick us up at the DG and drop us off at our house, around 30 miles away. We arrived just after Wes and Kenneth. The details of this timing aren't important. What matters is that Wes and Kenneth beat us back to the house. They were flying on their bikes. FLYING. How do I get some of that to rub off on me?!
Kenneth took Mariana to the hospital, and her husband (who is also an excellent cyclist but was at home doing homework on this fine day, as he is in law school and swamped with end-of-semester stuff) and her mom met them there. We later learned that she had broken her hand, as depicted in the x-ray below (see the circled area).
Poor thing! I told her to tell her husband that for her troubles, she deserves a diamond necklace. Or an ice cream.
Today the ladies rode nearly 40 miles. The guys, who took a bit of a more direct route home, ended the day with 67 miles. I was happy to realize that, for the 38 or 39 miles Mariana and I rode, we averaged 14.7mph, and that was keeping an eye on the pace. As Wes said, though, we never counted on *this much* adventure for today. While the route may be one to try again, a more mundane ride with fewer dogs would be welcomed.
For her bravery and calm under duress, this one's for Mariana. Best wishes for a speedy recovery, my friend. Looking forward to riding with you again when you are able.
