Ride report: Blue Ridge loop
Eric Marth
Blue Ridge ramble
23 September 2022
82 miles, 8,300 feet
Taken with Ray Hosler’s accounts of long rides in the Sierras riddled with fire roads, trespassing and lots of climbing I’ve been looking for a way to attempt something similar in my part of the world. Unfortunately getting out to the mountains relative to where I live requires at least three hours of driving. That creates enough friction that I can’t manage it every weekend. I do wonder what kind of riding shape I’d be in with easy mountain access.
I’ve been investigating paper maps, Google maps and Strava maps looking for alternate routes and roads with an aim towards avoiding highways and roads well travelled. While I couldn’t find any confirmation that certain roads connected to others while remaining passable by bike I felt confident enough to try and make a loop. My original charted course was 125 miles, combining a new untested loop with an old, familiar one.
It seems that fall is on the way. The humidity has tapered off and we’ve had some lovely weather. Some days in the mid 70s and perfect, others in the high 80s and still quite nice. The forecast for my ride predicted a low of 48º in the morning with temperatures climbing to the mid 60s. This might sound just about perfect for a day out with lots of climbing but there was some unpleasant wind. With surface winds at 14mph and gusts up to 28mph I would later find myself freezing.
I prepared for the trip over the course of the week, making lists of what to bring along. There are stores and even restaurants along the route but I didn’t want to rely on them for all of my food and water. I brought along more than I needed.
I stuffed my Fab’s Chest with all of the below.
For food: A bag of peanut butter pretzel nuggets; an 85% chocolate bar; a blend of walnuts, coconut flakes and pumpkin seeds; a peanut butter, honey, coconut, salt and banana sandwich with shaved chocolate; and a stainless container with a handful of salad greens, half an avocado, a soft boiled egg, walnuts, a carrot and a tin of mackerel.
Gear: A bag with spare front and rear lights, a power pack for lights, phone and GPS. A spare tire (I’m still getting comfortable running my RH extralights). Hand sanitizer, wipes. Two bandanas. Paper map of the area, printed route instructions. Tool kit with Crank Bros multi tool, spare tube, patch kit, tire levers.
The weather forecast left me confused. Getting ready at 4:00AM I decided on a wool baselayer and a Patagonia Nano Puff. I wore my torn up Kucharik wool shorts and wool socks. I packed a pair of Defeet glove liners and a linen short sleeve shirt. I wish I’d worn a long-sleeve wool jersey, perhaps paired with a shell.
My ride started on some gravel roads that had recently been scraped and surfaced which left lots of fluffy dirt that had me sliding at times. Perhaps there’s a tradition to scrape roads at the end of summer as I encountered this problem on gravel roads throughout the ride. My route took me along a quiet farm lane that follows a stream then onto a dirt road, with a strip of grass through the middle, with sorghum growing on one side and soy on the other. I turned onto a highway for a few miles, then into a neighborhood with many apple orchards, apple packing warehouses and a small post office.
My climbing began on a paved road in the countryside which after several miles turned to a gravel fire road.
The fire road was a lot of fun and slow going. I used my 26T front ring and shifted through my cassette as needed, I wasn’t trying for speed but comfortable climbing. I didn't know what lay ahead and I didn't want to burn out early. The road was mostly in good shape with nominal sized gravel, some chunks, some ruts and a few areas where the original mountain rock came up through the road. I had no trouble with my 44mm Snoqualmie Pass tires.
The route is wooded and follows a river. There are charming mossy boulders and I can see this place looking like heaven in another month. So far, some leaves have fallen but there is not much color in the canopies.
Along the climb I passed a few campers and a pair of guys in waders carrying flyrods. I was mostly out there alone, climbing and climbing, 3,000 feet over 13 miles. To date this was my longest climb.
After several hours I’d reached the ridge line road that’s part of the national park. Every time I looked at the elapsed time and clock on my Wahoo I was surprised. Time was flying by, I was moving slowly and the hours were racking up. In the woods the light did not seem to be changing and the temperature didn't seem to be rising, either.
Once I emerged from the woods I was greeted my cruel gusts of wind. Soaked through with sweat the wind was devilish. The paved route ahead was another 31 miles with 3,100 feet of climbing. With the head winds, side winds and swaddled with sweaty layers this was a difficult bit of riding. There were a few sections of thrilling descents, others where I got wind in my bones, and others still where headwinds had my cruising downhill at speeds I can easily achieve pedaling along in my 42/13.
I stopped at an overlook to enjoy my sandwich and one thing that buoyed me during the day was food. Food is a comfort in my life and I tried to build that in for the ride. The ascetic quality of gels and super-biscuits is just not for me. As soon as I’d unfolded the waxed paper a man approached, interested in talking about bikes. He recognized my Rivendell, complimented my bar ends and platforms and praised Silver shifters. He likes friction and has a few Surlys. I would normally be delighted to chat but I was a little miserable and just wanted to inhale my toast, ground peanuts, banana and the rest. I shoved the sandwich back into my pack and carried on. I stopped a while later and ate on a freezing rock ledge, alternating mouth fulls of wind and sandwich, overlooking the valley.
I wish I’d worn a long-sleeve wool jersey, perhaps paired with a shell. If anyone has ideas about how to stay comfortable with tons of sweaty climbing and how to prevent freezing in your own sweat on long descents please let me know. One problem I had was that the Nano Puff became soaked with sweat. I did clump up my soaked wool shirt and jacket and switch into my dry linen. I was chilly but I never got clammy in the linen. I probably should have switched sooner. I was glad I could swap out my soaked Goat gloves for the dry Defeet glove liners. That saved me some real discomfort.
Reaching the next fire road really switched my mood. I was very tired at this point and my neck was aching. But I was out of the wind and I could take a break from climbing. The next few miles had me descending through the woods. Early on I passed a pair of hikers and said hello. They seemed surprised I was riding down on a bike, as bikes are prohibited. The going down was steady and controlled and the road was mostly in good shape. There were sections badly washed out and some portions with large rocks and ruts. I certainly would not want to climb this road on a bike.
Part of the way down I encountered a fallen tree blocking the road. It was covered in big, juicy poison ivy. The mature kind that can overtake an entire tree, with branches and berries. Absolutely disgusting. I traversed around the tree into a few briars, which scratched my legs like a cornered cat. I was happy to trade the scratches for the urushiol oil.
After the fire road I pedaled out to visit some friends who are building themselves a house. I admired their addition and the new deep front porch, constructed from poplar that my friend milled himself. I filled up my water bottles and headed back out.
I had originally planned a longer route but decided to bail out. Afternoon was turning to evening and while I had lights with plenty of charge I didn’t have a good way to mount a headlight, something I should have figured out ahead of time. A dynamo wheel and light would be a great thing to have on the Hillborne. As Jason Fuller has said, a dyanmo for every bike.
The next bit of riding to finish up was on familiar roads, I didn’t need a map. The last road is a lovely bit of ululating countryside with pastures, hills and nice farmhouses. But regardless of my level of fitness it seems this road is a perpetual bear because it’s always at the end of the ride.
I finished up pleased to have discovered some new roads, weathered some difficult climbs and managed biting wind without falling apart. While not in the Sierras, pushing bigger gears or moving nearly as fast I do feel that I’ve now had a taste of what Roy Hasler describes in some of his Jobst rides.
I’m not sure this is my favorite type of ride though with more favorable weather and perhaps some company that could change. There are some camping and primitive cabins along this route and I could see a loop like this one would make for a great overnight route. Perhaps I can find some time to make that happen this fall.
