Reports of my death are exaggerated...

Roanoke to DC Friday May 9th. No I am not dead. Stop getting your hopes up. But, as I am now over 10 days late with my blogs, I will update you all in small, bite-size chunks. Not 5 minutes after I entered my motel room a thunderstorm lashed the bike. I guessed I'd be testing my rain-gear along that Blue Ridge Drive. But a sunny morning and a coffee with some Harley riders kicked off my 300 mile day. The Harley riders had come down from Vermont and he warned me that roadworks along the Skyline Drive through Shenandoah meant regular 50 yard patches of gravel and those dangerous chewed-up grooves in the tarmac. Those awful things control your tyres and make riding feel like surfing on quicksand. They saw many deer and a black bear climbed a tree over the road and was taking swipes at the bikers as they rode underneath! He said he shouted for his wife to grab the camera but it was in one of the saddlebags. Fringed no doubt. The saddlebags...not the camera. I tanked up with petrol (climbing at the rate of 1$ a day) and rode back to the entrance to the cloud-enshrouded Blue Ridge Drive. It was eerily empty and great gobs of these low, white cloud kept washing over me and obscuring the view. For the first time in months I felt a wee bit cold. I can imagine how spectacular this foliage infested land must be in autumn. I eventually made my way to HWY 11 and Natural Bridge. Thomas Jefferson bought it from King George for something like $2.50 (when a US buck could BUY something! hehe) and I marvelled to think that in the late 1700's this place was a tourist destination! I mean, how the heck did they GET here? Whilst ambling along like a freak in my boots and leathers snapping pics I met Dean Ferguson (Director of Interpretive Program Monacan Indian Village) teaching children the history of the natural stone arch. We walked and debated and were outrageously skeptical of all things and fastened a firm friendship in our minds. I plan to return just to sit a few evenings and compare observations with Dean. He seems to know his history. A bit. I attempted to ride the 100 miles of the Skyline Drive but as I queued to pay my $10 (why don't American's give 1/2 price or free for motorcycles like the Brits?) I hear the talkative Ranger tell a driver that the whole 100 miles is cloudy and foggy and it gets worse. I could only see 3 cars ahead. I turned around and once again give in to the highway route. As I rode the sunny 81 North to 66 East and eventually the 495 Beltway around Washington DC I could see a solid cloud snake along the top of that Skyline Drive. Most disappointing. I filtered through the bumper-to-bumper Washington rush-hour to College Park and as I approached my friend Bevan's street I heard a honk and there he was in the car beside me with Jacqueline. He reckons the leathers look great and really stand out in traffic. Lifesaver and publicity. It'll do me. Bevan spoiled us with his gourmet talents and I relaxed a little and watched Eddy Izzard on telly. He was teasing America. I could relate. Tomorrow...Segway DC!