Blue Ridge Parkway, Broken Bed, 10% grades

Maybe this picture shows the angle at which we parked the van a little better. That's a factor in this part of the story.

We had a short walk from our space to the nearest restroom. We knew that a shower existed, but it had been built further into the campground and we didn't look for it that evening.

I went for a short hike, but I couldn't follow the map or the map was wrong. I walked about a mile altogether. At the place where the map didn't seem to match the terrain, a house converted to offices was centered on a large lawn. A large rust-colored dog patrolled the lawn. I don't know if the dog had been intended as a guard dog, but he didn't bother me as I found my way back to the paved road.

We ate and prepared for bed. Deciding to leave most of the camping gear outside and not bother with the tent made that easy. We made up the bed and laid down to rest. We noticed a cracking sound, but a quick check around the minivan didn't reveal a source for the sound, so we went to sleep, even though many of the other campers (and their children) went right on enjoying themselves.

I felt the cold quickly. Having Loretta to cuddle with improved that somewhat, but I also noticed that the sloping bed left me uncomfortable. I kept having to move "uphill" and rearrange the quilt.

I slept through the night all the same except for one trip to the restroom. I decided to go without shoes because I had trouble finding my sandals or slippers. I failed to realize then that the bed had already moved enough to cause that problem. I couldn't find a light, either. With no light, I stepped into a cold patch of mud at the edge of our sight. All in all, I had a tough trip to the restroom.

I went right back to sleep after the restroom trip, and awakened at first light. I soon realized that the bed had moved forward almost to the backs of the seats. I decided to get out for a better look.

Standing barefoot on the ground, I noticed that I could see my breath. So much for the idea of travelling in summer so that we wouldn't have to deal with the cold. This was my first taste of the difference altitude makes.

I put my socks and shoes on my feet after cleaning the mud off as best I could with a paper towel. (The idea of washing with cold water in that cold did absolutely nothing for me.) Then I surveyed the damage to our home-made PVC bed frame.

The bed had indeed slid forward, but in the process some of the PVC (plastic pipe) legs had broken. Standing on the ground, I could see that the center leg on the front had snapped off and at least two tees were also ruined. When we studied the whole frame later, we found that six of the nine legs had either broken themselves or broken the tees into which they were inserted. The bed frame was ruined.

We showered in the nice showers at the back of the campground, but skipped breakfast for right then because we felt sure we could find something to eat at Glenville. Then, cold, hungry and discouraged, we simply piled everything into the minivan and headed out.

Once we warmed up a bit, we realized that we had another beautiful day ahead of us. We stopped at a convenience store in Glenville. I don't remember what I ate that morning, but I began to feel better within about two minutes.

We had a nice drive for about 60 miles, with a stop at the Wal-Mart at Elkins for supplies. Once we got east of Bowden, the rises and drops became steeper. Soon the minivan motor began working hard. I didn't know how much further we had to go before we reached Virginia, but I looked forward to that. The map showed Route 33 turning about 10 miles past the state line, and it looked as if we'd be following a valley for at least twenty miles. In the meantime, the road was the steepest route I'd ever driven.

We had quite a ride reaching Virginia. We would climb steeply for three or four, with curves that we would take at speeds from 15 to 30 mph. Then down. When I saw a sign on one crest that said "8% grade next 3 miles," I knew I had a tough drive ahead. I drove carefully and handled it safely. The next crest sign said, "9% grade next four miles"; the one after that "10% grade next three miles." By the time I read that last one, I had begun to be nervous. All the same, I kept driving. The alternative was to go back the way I had come, over the same roads. I kept hoping for the next downgrade to be the last long, steep one. I had begun to smell the odor of burning brake material, which is a scary smell.

By the time we arrived at the bottom of the 10% grade, I had begun to tire. Loretta suggested that I follow the example of the car ahead of us by pulling over for a rest. I did, and as we came to a stop, smoke began to blow off the brakes. The smoke continued and increased for a few minutes. I am profoundly grateful that Loretta suggested we stop. I had not completely used myself up, but the brakes had given all they had. We let them (and me) cool off for about twenty minutes.

The next upgrade led us to the West Virginia/Virginia state line.