Kentucky, Virginia, West Virginia and Pennsylvania

There comes a point during any of these long bike trips when getting back home starts to weigh on my mind more.  I then start to look at the map differently, trying to figure out how to get there some new interesting way. When I left Middlesboro, Kentucky Tuesday morning my rough plan was to follow highways 58, 19 and 219 all the way up to Buffalo. And that's pretty much what I did, except for the Buffalo bit because Jane informed me earlier today that there was a forecast of really bad weather in Southwestern Ontario.  In any event I covered nearly 1100 kilometres in the last two days. I rode down some really twisty bits, like over 100 kilometres in one stretch of 219 in the Monongahela National Forest south of Elkins West Virginia. When I say twisty, I mean extreme crooked roads with successions of twists that are signed at either 40, 30, 20, and even 15 mph; and they mean it! I gotta hand it to those Americans, they sure know how to put a curve, or rather curves on their roads. Also, the roads are in generally very good shape. A fair chunk of the post 2008 fiscal stimulus package has found its way in bridges and roads, a smart investment to my mind.

The scenery is amazing, there are places where you can look out for miles at haze smeared mountains and green valleys. The ditches and the roadside are covered with wildflowers, in particular the orange day lillies that are at their peak and are everywhere in huge clumps.

Yesterday I passed through Lebanon, and today it was Berlin, some trip hey?

Today's most touching moment was a stop at the Flight 93 National Memorial at the site of the crash of that United Airlines plane in the Somerset County field near Shanksville Pennsylvania at 10:03 on September 11, 2001. The plane which had been taken over by four hijackers had a crew of seven and thirty-three passengers; all were killed. Had it not been for the bravery of the passengers, the plane might well have made it to the Capitol Building in Washington, its intended target. The memorial is sombre and simple. The wall of names of the passengers and crew is set on the line of the flightpath of UA 93, and the actual spot where the plane crashed is in front of a big boulder in front of a hemlock grove that can easily be seen in the distance. Unlike the Twin Towers and the Pentagon where the other planes struck, this site is in the middle of a nondescript rural landscape where, many years before the earth was displaced to exploit rich seams of coal. 9/11 affected the lives of many, and the memories are still fresh. I overheard a visitor speaking to the National Park Service Officer about one of the crew that she knew and the call that she had made from the plane in the moments before the passengers charged the cockpit; and the officer replied: "I tell her story every day". I rode the rest of the day thinking about those poor people.

This evening I arrived at my Americas Best Value Inn in Bradford PA. Those of you who have been paying attention to Retirement Rides may well recall that I mentionned Bradford once before. Indeed, Bradford, the home of the Zippo lighter is where I stopped at the end of the day on July 22, 2013. And at what hotel do you think? Déjà vu, all over again!

Here are a few pictures of the last two days.

This moth was interested in gas at the service station I  stopped at in Dot, Virginia.

Looking out towards Lee County Virginia on the side of Wilderness Road.

Day lilies, all over the place; they made me think of Jane.

The real Berlin.

The names of the passengers and crew of UA Flight 93 are engraved in the white marble Wall of names, which follows the flight path. Through the gap you can see the boulder that marks the far edge of where the impact cratter was.