Mt Airy, birthplace to Andy Griffith, was the basis for the fictitious town, Mayberry. Pete and I toured the mostly-closed town, and met Wendy at the Visitor's Center. Wendy had driven from Maryland, and was also planning on staying at Veteran's Memorial Park, as soon as she could find it.

Accomodations were in the livestock pavilion, where we had a roof over our tents and about a foot of fresh wood chips lining the floor. Hot, private shower rooms and heated restrooms completed the accomodations.

Saturday, October 06, 2001
The rain started at 05:15, with another shower at 06:45. We stayed dry and warm under the roof. There was no point in getting wet or anything, since this wasn't a riding day, so we hung around the pavilion for a while. The rain stopped at around 10:00, and we went into town for brunch at the Snappy Diner. This diner was featured in an Andy Griffith show when Andy and friends went to lunch there. Pete got his picture taken at Floyd's Barber Shop. After brunch we changed our clothes and did the 'Mayberry Loop' ride, a short self-guided tour of Mt Airy. The weather was still raw - chilly, damp, and quite windy; so we decided to forego the longer 30 mile ride to Pilot Mountain.

Next, we registered at the school. My meal card wasn't right, so I had to take it to the Problem Table to have it remade. With the temps dropping, everyone got into their warmest clothes and piled into Wendy's car to attend the Sonker festival at the Frederick House, about 20 miles out of town. Sonker is a local dish, sort of like a fruit cobbler. A generous serving was a mere dollar. I'll buy that for a dollar! They ran out of Sonker while we were there, but we toured the house and enjoyed the live music.

Everyone was ready for supper when we returned. Gary had finally shown up after spending all day taking a 5 hour bus ride. Apparently there was a problem with having sufficient busses for the number of tickets sold.

The line for spaghetti at the school went clear to the far end of the cafeteria, and wasn't moving, so I opted to eat with the others at a small restaurant a few blocks away. Little did I know a pattern was being set. Sunset that evening was spectacular, and with the temps already in the low 40s, we were glad for the warm accomodations at the park.

Sunday, October 07, 2001
Our first riding day. There was frost this morning, but under the roof it was at least ten degrees warmer. Those with vehicles at the park generously carted everyone's baggage over to the school. We hit our first hills even before leaving town, made worse by the cold. By 7 miles out we had to stop and peel. The first stop was the historic Rockford Depot, where everyone regrouped.

The route became even hillier, some of them real grinders, with the winding road requiring us to keep our speed down when decending. But we did get in a few nice rollers, which we took at 35 mph down and crested in the 23 range. Lunch was at the Westbend Winery, where we also took the wine sampling tour.

After lunch the hills eased off a bit, but there were still quite a few to keep us honest. The campsite was at Bethabara Park (pronounced with the emphasis on the second syllable,) the site of the original Moravian settlers' commune. The Moravians were a sect of Protestants. The afternoon was cool, but sunny and dry. Dinner was a fiasco, with the caterer running out of food 20 minutes after starting. She had planned on each rider eating a ridiculously small portion - basically a taste test. My dinner was a small plate consisting mostly of boiled cabbage,  no meat. I rode a few miles to town to supplement it with McDonald's. For those not on the meal plan, the shuttle busses were totally inadequate; the first one filling immediately and the next one not due for an hour.  Staff were unapologetic, telling their customers to put complaints in writing after the ride.

Day's stats: 60 miles, 16.8 mph average, 45.9 mph top speed.

Monday, October 08, 2001
Cold again this morning. The frost was heavy on the grass as I left the park at 8:30 for breakfast in town. We weren't on the road until 9:00, 'way behind schedule. The hills started almost immediately. Due to, IMHO, poor planning, this day was not only the hilliest but also the longest day of the tour. As we travelled along the rural roads, we occasionally caught glimpses of Pilot Mountain, with its distinctive granite cap.

When Gary asserted he didn't plan on doing the optional climbs, I forged ahead, planning on seeing them at camp. I took the long route turnoff, and from there, climbed Sauratown Mountain. After three miles of hard climb, there wasn't much to see at the end of the road, just lots of trees. I turned around and went down slowly. Letting off the brakes for even ten seconds let me hit 30 mph, and there were several sharp curves; so I kept my speed below 20 mph for the most part.

Later I heard that several people did indeed go off the road. A short way down, I met Gary and Pete, who had changed their minds. I told them I'd wait, figuring they'd be about 15-20 minutes behind me. That time frame turned into almost an hour, and by the time they got back down, the SAG vans were picking up route signs. The lunch stop had closed, which didn't bother them because they hadn't prepaid for lunches. When they stopped at a restaurant, I stopped at a convenience store, loaded up on energy food and took off.

I finally got to camp at 4:30. Tonight's stay was at the 4H center just outside of Reidsville. The baggage trucks had been unloaded at the highest point of the parking lot at the top of the hill, which included a 20+ percent grade.  By the time my tent was up, it was time for dinner so I stood in line. Dinner was spaghetti, and the caterer was ready and willing to serve "large groups" of 30 students at a time. But they'd never served 500 before. So, hundreds of hungry bikers stood in line for hours waiting while the caterer cooked up spaghetti noodles in 30-serving batches. The CNC staff didn't see a problem, as about half the riders gave up and bought food from the other fundraiser groups onsite. Problem solved, in their book.  By now there were many riders openly talking of a breach-of-contract lawsuit, and there was a near-riot. As before, complaints were met with the indifferent response, "put it in writing after the ride."

Day's stats: 83 miles, 14.4 mph average, 51.8 mph top speed.

Tuesday, October 9, 2001
No pics today. Cold again, not quite as cold as prior mornings, but more humid. Frost was heavy on my tent and steam billowed from the nearby stream. Breakfast was french toast and cereal. At 8:15 I was ready to ride, and Gary was just appearing from the bunkhouse, ready for breakfast. I left alone.

Today we rode in what I think was labelled as the Piedmont. We had left the mountains. The hills were long, but not as steep anymore. The previous pattern of climbing a hill then getting the downside had changed. now we had downhills drop into valleys, cross a stream, and then climb back out the other side. Between the long climbs yesterday and the lack of proper food, my legs were pretty sore, even without having pushed very hard. Out in the middle of nowhere, a large dog came out after me, dodging from my left to right behind me to stay out of my field of sight. Definitely in Predator Mode. With my sore legs, I wasn't going to run, so I stopped dead and made a lunge for him. He wisely retreated into his yard, and apparently stayed there after I left.

The campsite was in Roxboro, at the VFW Hall. Although it looked grassy, the entire field consisted of "North Carolina gravel," ie chipped granite, with a thin layer of dirt over it. I was lucky to thread my tent stakes more than an inch or two into the mess, hammers just bent the stakes. A few local reporters were running around interviewing  cyclists. One of them hit me up, admittedly because my bike sorta stood out. When Gary rolled in, another reporter caught him, too. Same reason? Probably. Dinner was an honest attempt to feed us, but it wasn't enough, so I walked a half mile into town to find something else to eat.

The evening's entertainment was indoors, so it wasn't as loud in the camp. While warmer than previous nights, it still got down to about 40 degrees.

Day's stats: 69 miles, 16.2 mph average, 48 mph top speed

Wednesday, October 10, 2001
I showed up at the tail end of the breakfast hours. The caterers had allowed riders to take seconds (OK) and for other riders who had not pre-paid for meals to purchase breakfast (not OK.) My prepaid $6.00 breakfast consisted of a few strips of the world's thinnest cold bacon and a cup of orange juice.

Today was noticeably flatter, including what some riders referred to as "false flats," long shallow grades that looked flat but cut cruising speeds back a mile or two per hour. Very sore today, can't seem to get or keep any real speed. I was passed by several pacelines and even some singles, which might be normal on some rides, but definitely not the pattern so far this week.

One of the features of the ride today was crossing Lake Gaston several times. It was a fairly big lake, but not enough to impress a Michiganian! Nice hills on either side, though. Near the far side of the causeway, below, an oncoming truck decided to pass a slower-moving car, and wasn't going to let a little thing like a few bikes hold him up. He made it back over before getting to me, but the two riders in front of me had to bail.

Camp was at the Henderson YMCA. As soon as the tent was up, I hit the pool and hot tub. The hot water jets felt great on my poor legs, and I swam 500 yards for a little upper body workout. Then, the gang packed on a shuttle and had dinner at the Golden Corral, a buffet-style restaurant. I happily stuffed myself. I think this was the beginning of my recovery, and I'm still convinced most of my problems were due to inadequate nutrition of the ride's meal plan. I was told the chicken at the 'Y' was good. Color me skeptical.

Back at camp, I cleaned and lubed the bike The chain had started squeaking, probably due to the wet mornings. While cleaning, I discovered a broken spoke, which was causing my rear brake to rub. No wonder I couldn't do my normal speeds! The REI support shop was able to replace the spoke on my 24 inch (507mm) wheel, but they never did get my spoke protector reattached properly. I did that when I got home.

Day's stats: 48 miles, 16.3 mph average, top speed unknown, but somewhere in the upper 40's.

Thursday, October 11, 2001
This morning was warm enough that I didn't need tights! The terrain was gently rolling, with a few hills that required a shift down to the middle chainring. About 10 miles out I stopped at a corner and heard the unmistakeable sound of  a brake pad dragging. Sure enough, the repair guys hadn't tightened the wheel enough and it had pulled sideways in the dropouts. A Sachs 3x7 hub doesn't have quick release, but I carry a 15 mm box end wrench for just such eventualities. I was back on the road in a few minutes.

I noticed my first cotton fields today. I'm sure I had seen a few patches yesterday, but this northerner didn't recognize them until I saw large fields of it today. Many fields had already been harvested, and many more were nearly ready.

After the lunch stop, I traded positions several times with a small paceline of 5 riders. Rather than keep passing each other at every hill, they agreed to let me hang at the back of their line. With legs still quite sore, I swallowed my pride and took them up on their offer. Not having full power for hills, they got away from me a few times on climbs, but I was always able to drag them down afterward, then rest behind them for the next hill. Our route took us into Virginia for a mile or two before looping back into North Carolina.. Hmm, it all looked the same to me...

Entering Roanoke Rapids, we crossed a long bridge. On the bridge was a man with a large camera, probably from a newspaper. He focused on us, let the others ride by, and clicked on me! Hmm, at least somebody has an appreciation for recumbents. More likely, he just wanted a pic of an unusual bike. No doubt, mine was that.

Dinner was actually pretty good: lasagna and spaghetti. Unfortunately I had to eat it out on the sidewalk because all the tables were full. An attempted recumbent gathering was thwarted by a combination of the live band and many people still being in town eating. We only had about 7 recumbents show up, of an estimated 40 on the ride.

Day's stats: 66 miles, 18.4 mph avg, 39.1 mph top speed

Friday, October 12, 2001
Today was the second-longest day, and most riders were up and on the road early. I got rolling at 8:00. Gary's tent was still up when I left. We were promised that today would be flatter, and after a few hills while leaving town, it was. Most of the route was incredibly flat. Only a light headwind kept my speeds down, as my legs were finally starting to feel better. Soon I was passing groups of  2-4 bikes. I picked up a few 'Clingons' here and there, but they generally only lasted a few miles at a time, and I mostly cruised alone.

As I approached the final stop for the day, a large paceline of about 20 bikes pulled out. These were the 'gearheads' of the ride, who had spent the week rating everyone by how well (read: fast) they rode, and I pretty much knew their attitude toward recumbents. I had enough water, so I bypassed the stop in favor of antagonizing them. Actually, I confess, I had visions of getting a free pull, or of hooking in, but as expected, the riders at the back would have no part of it. By about a half mile down the road they had sorted themselves out and, except for a lot of jostling at the back of the line,  were proceeding single file at about 21-22 mph, about what my pace had been over the previous 15 miles. An obviously experienced racer-type was riding to their left, coaching them on pacing, when and how to drop to the back, etc.  With a hearty, "Onyer Left!" I cranked up to 26 mph and nonchalantly passed the entire line. I noted that there were many fancy CF, Ti, etc bikes easily worth double my V-Rex, and almost all the riders were younger than me. As I cleared the front of the line, someone yelled, "bullseye," which I presume meant I was now a target. I can only imagine the 'coach' counselling them to take it easy, stay disciplined, and they'd run me down. But, except for a short stretch of unprotected headwind with a few long shallow rollers, they steadily lost ground. And when I turned with the wind onto US17, I dumped them completely.

When I got to camp, I had time to park, get a drink, and walk back to the road and snap their picture as they rolled in. Apparently I broke up the pack, because only about half of them rolled in as a group. Way cool, although they didn't seem to think so. What a bunch of grouches, they wouldn't even talk to me!

Dinner was the best of the trip so far, fried chicken, and everyone had plenty to eat for a change. I walked nearly a mile down the main street of Edenton, past the Civil War memorial, to the Waterfront Park, for the evening's entertainment. Since camp was on the main drag, we had to contend with a constant succession of kids honking, revving their engines, and generally harassing the campers all night. It didn't stop me from sleeping well. I'd pitched my tent on the quiet side of the field!

Day's stats: 79 miles, 20.1 mph avg, 31.2 mph top speed.

Saturday, October 13, 2001
The last day of the ride, and one of the shortest. There was a possiblity of scattered showers, so everyone was leaving camp early. I snarfed breakfast and was on the road by 7:30, about in the middle of the pack. No windbreaker today, and it was pretty cool for the first hour or so. If yesterday was flat, today was like a tabletop. Gary, Pete, and I rode together, passing cotton and peanut fields, and  picking up Clingons as we went. We had about 15 at the first stop, a few less at the second stop. Except for the city limit sprint at the second rest stop, in which Gary and I dropped everyone like stones, we held our speed to a relatively easy pace. (Gary caught me napping and won it with a great jump.) I had a chuckle or two listening to people at the stops, who spoke of how they hooked in with this *really* fast paceline, and how it was the fastest they'd ever ridden.

The rain showers never appeared, and we arrived in Elizabeth City before the festivities got started. This time, I caught Gary napping and won the city limit sprint. By the time the main body of riders had arrived, I was already showered and ready to relax. At the End of Ride Party, we had fried chicken, North Carolina style barbeque, hush puppies, and slaw, with iced tea and beer to wash it down. Good stuff.

A photographer had followed the tour, taking pictures at a selected spot every day. I hit the tent to see which pics of me had turned out best. To my surprise, almost all of them were already sold! I'm not sure what that means, but I hope I'm not the main feature on too many dartboards.

The Elizabeth City Bicycle Police patrolled the party, and one officer jokingly threatened to have Gary's van towed for sporting a license plate reading, "24GORDN". This was Rusty Wallace country! A great time was had by everyone, and the live band cranked out a succession of great oldies rock-n-roll. We stuck around long enough to see the Apache helicopter take off  before packing up for the long trip home.

Day's stats: 51 miles, 18.3 average,  31.3 mph top speed

Summary
Overall I think we were incredibly lucky to have clear weather for the entire week. With temps as cold as they were, rain would have been a disaster! While the terrain and scenery were interesting, some of the roads were so rough from the chipped granite seal coat that the constant vibration cracked a fairing mount. At least frost heaves and potholes were non-existant!

I had been worried that cyclists would be second-class road users out in the rural areas, but my fears were unfounded. Virtually all drivers I saw were courteous to a fault. Likewise, my dog incident on Tuesday was the only cycle-chasing dog I saw all week - a very good record for 400+ miles of riding.

A strong point of the ride was the rest stops, which were spaced roughly every 15 miles along the route. They were stocked with fruit bars, real fruit, gatorade (from mix,) water, and sometimes carbonated beverages. Although the support was fair, I felt that several things needed improving:

1. Meals - This was the biggie for me. Riders live or die by the food they get. With the possible exception of the last night's meal in Edenton, none of the morning/evening meals on the meal plan were worth the money paid for them. The caterers for the first three days were totally unprepared for the appetites of high-mileage cyclists, leading to threats of lawsuits against CNC, by more than just me. The staff's attitude was appalling, they obviously did not consider it to be their problem. The lunch stops, while somewhat high-priced, were at least dependable and otherwise supplied good, if boring, cold sandwich-based lunches. I recommend not buying any meals from CNC in the future, period.

Except for Edenton, there was a shortage of seating to go along with the shortage of food. Eating outdoors in cool/cold/dark of October is not necessarily pleasant.

Little allowance was made for varying mileages when scheduling lunch - short route and century riders all had the same two-hour window on Thursday, ignoring a 40 mile difference for getting there. Likewise, on other days with varying mileage options, the longer routes had to ride faster or risk missing lunch.

2. Busses - There seemed to be problems with busses again this year, although I do not have first hand knowledge what those problems were. At least three people with return bus tickets to Mt Airy were left at Elizabeth City for lack of a bus. I have no idea how they got back to their cars. The horrendous way they stacked bikes in the accompanying trucks reminded me of building a house of cards. I sure wouldn't want my $2000+ bike being packed that way!

3. IMHO entertainment by live bands every night was overkill. Not only that, but many people wanted to turn in earlier, and were kept up by the loud music and bright lights.

4. There was no provision for unloading baggage trucks. Often, the trucks were parked so that there was no place to put the unloaded bags. Riders crawled through the trucks like termites in a rotten log, looking for their bags, in the process dumping other baggage out the doors in piles. A much better solution would be to organize unloading parties and have the truck drivers move the trucks forward as the ground behind gets filled.

Would I do it again? No. Problems with food caterers, problems with busses - for the second year in a row. Too far to drive for my liking, although obviously that's due to living in Michigan. The staff was ready and willing to receive kudos for the vendors that followed the route, i.e. the bike detailing service, the massages, the photographer, and the REI bike shop, but didn't accept ownership of the food problems.  I've been told they didn't have enough riders this year to 'break even.' A thousand riders isn't enough?!! I'm sure the seven nights of live entertainment didn't help their finances much. Most riders I talked to were doing this ride specifically because fall  was a good time for them to take a vacation, not because of the live bands.

I rate it at two chainrings (out of 5,) not a total waste, but in the lower half of its class. As a week of vacation, it was better than staying at work. North Carolina is a beautiful state, but beyond that this ride just wasn't special. Save your money, don't bother with it unless it's in your backyard; and even then, don't buy the extras. The meal package wasn't worth the money, and the bus rides had some serious problems, not the least of which was the SCAREY  way they packed the bikes. This is a ride without an identity. Expect this ride to go belly up in a few years, unless it can find that identity.