The previous day had been a low-mileage effort (44 miles), and I started out determined to make up for lost time. My goal was an ambitious one: I was aiming for Radford, VA, over 90 miles away.
True to form, I left the campground as Anthony was still sleeping. For some reason, I experienced my solitude that morning as loneliness. I felt as though I was moving out of the cozier parts of the state, and into areas with just as much history as the parts I had passed through, but less of the charm. Geographically, I had entered the Great Valley between the Blue Ridge Mountains to the east, and the younger Appalachians to the west. Psychologically, I felt as though I was beginning to understand the enormous size of this huge, unmanageable continent which stood between me and the Pacific.
By 6 p.m., following a four-mile climb, my ambition was flagging along with my energy. And I was sensing the opportunity to be found in a college town; Blacksburg is home to Virginia Tech, infamous as the 2007 scene of the country’s worst college mass shooting. In 1980, however, the school was known for its bucolic setting and academic rigor; budding engineers in particular were drawn to its strong science programs.
For the second time in a week, I looked to the hospitality of college students when seeking a place to crash for the night, and I was again not disappointed. While asking a young passerby for directions, I was quickly engaged in a conversation which led to Walter, my new acquaintance, offering me a sleeping spot on the couch in his Zeta Psi fraternity house. I accepted gratefully, and followed him to the frat house, where I met some of his fellow Zets: Buffalo Bob, J.D., Jean, and Freaky Dave.
Budding engineers (some electrical, some mechanical) all, they were abuzz with enthusiasm regarding my journey, and eager to spout facts and figures on their own passions, from nuclear energy to electric guitars. I was amused and admiring … am I allowed, I thought, only one year out of college myself, to find college kids so young, yet so awe-inspiring for their openness?
Things were humming at the frat house on that Saturday. We were out in the sticks, but the frat boys still stayed up late on long summer nights, even if only to watch SNL reruns. By the time I fell asleep on the living room couch, it was to toss and turn, pieces of pizza awash in my beer-filled tummy. I awoke in the morning feeling foggy and famished. Promising to send my new friends a copy of the book that intend to produce following the trip [is it too late? :)] I packed my bags and pedaled off, sad to say good-bye, and also to be denied the pleasure of a lazy Sunday morning spent drinking coffee and reading the paper.