Day 4 : Bishopville, SC to McKenney, VA
282 miles
The 3 am wake-up doesn't get any easier. In fac,t it gets a whole lot harder. But once I am up, the cool air drops the cloak of sleepiness that shrouds me. I put on my armwarmers to fend off the 55 degree air–an act I didn’t think would be necessary until New England. Another morning, another energy drink.
It’s a beautiful morning. The stars are gorgeous and the moon is bright. I cross into North Carolina as the sun rises.
“You’re in Laurinburg, they’ll steal the pain off your car” a man warns me as he offers to watch my bike while I grab some food from the convenience store. Welcome to North Carolina. The miles slip by as traffic ebbs and flows through towns and countryside. There are rolling hills now, which are wonderful. I can finally go fast on the descents. The wind whistles as I build up speed until I can no longer hear my earbuds, and only hear the sound of wind.
The boa on my cleat broke as I was taking my shoes off last night. I now can’t tighten the right shoe very tight. My achilles starts aching as my heel slides around. I wrap my shoe in tape which helps, but does not fix the problem.
I didn’t realize that my route took me through Fort Bragg Military Base. I’m turned away at the gates but told to take a path through the woods to get back to another road. I’m soon turning through thick sand on a doubletrack trail through stands of pines. It’s not a long section, but it’s long enough that I manage to sink my wheel in a patch of deep sand and tip over. The sand sticks to my sweat covered body and won’t get off. I’m annoyed at myself. My shortcut through the woods lands me in the middle of a strange town built entirely around the base. All of my exits seem cut off by checkpoints.
“Take the interstate out of here” one of the guards tells me.
“Really?”
“Yeah I think it’s fine.”
And that’s how I ended up riding 8 miles on I-295.
I sustain myself with gas station sandwiches and pizza complete with unhealthy amounts of soda and sugary drinks. Circle K is the best gas station in the south, but the beautiful prospect of Wawa looms. A haven of fast food and hot meals so delectable that it makes the idea of biking through New Jersey seem manageable.
Raleigh is busy, but the roads are fast. The rush hour traffic gives me an artificial tailwind at times, breaking the 3 day stranglehold the headwind has placed me in. i blaze past miles of traffic in the wide shoulder. “Try commuting by bike, it’s faster and more fun” I tell a driver who honks in frustration when I pass their stagnant car.
Evening brings Virginia and golden hour brings a wave of energy that propels me to my next campsite.
