For a few years now, Virginia and DC members of an e-mail list I'm on have met up in April in Ladysmith (Caroline County), between Richmond and DC, for a low-key, social 40-mile ride. I first went in 2006, and couldn't go last year. Fortunately this year the date worked and my family were very accommodating, and so I headed off on only my fourth group ride ever.
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It's always difficult, when given a rare day out on my own, not to try to do everything that appeals. In the woods and fields of Caroline County in spring, it's very tempting to add birding and photography to the ride--the trees are leafing out, and migrant birds are singing in the woods and along the slow, swampy rivers.
But I learned on the 2006 ride that stopping to find a tiny singing warbler means falling behind the group and having to pedal like mad to catch up--even a fairly relaxed group disappears into the distance very quickly. So I swore to myself that this would be just a ride--stick with the group, enjoy the ride, don't try to do everything. Which is a change, when you're used to riding alone and having the freedom to stop and start (but lacking the company).
So of course just a few miles into the ride, I stopped at a river crossing to take a picture and try to find the first Northern Parula I had heard this year.
And guess what? The group disappeared into the distance very quickly.
And of course you always catch up just before a hill...
But once I settled down and stuck with the group, everything went smoothly, short of a patch about 10 miles in where I felt completely winded and felt like I'd have to turn back. But a few miles later, I was OK again, and didn't struggle again until about a mile from the end.
Here and there during the ride I ended up in front of a group, where I probably didn't belong, but just tried not to wobble around dangerously. Next time I'll work harder at staying back out of the way.
It was very nice to get out with 15 like-minded people, all of whom were very friendly, and tolerant of wobbling tyros taking too many pictures while riding. It was also quite a bike show, and I should have taken more pictures. In a relatively small group, it was surprising to see so many nice roadish steel bikes--Rivendells, an Oswald, a Big Fish, a Bob Jackson, a Waterford, a Serotta, and probably others I'm forgetting. But bikes aside, the experience of riding with such low-key, friendly group was the best part of the trip.
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Arriving in Ladysmith from I-95 will mislead you about the surrounding landscape--from the highway you mostly see deciduous woods, although there are now many more warehouse-sized commercial operations--tractor dealers, RV outfitters, antique outlets--on large, visible lots cleared and graded out of the woods.
But once off the highway--even if still within hearing of it--there are a few repeating elements that patch together a landscape. Our route went through many patches of mixed woods, most with young trees--clear-cutting is relatively frequent--and quite a bit of pine.
But change happens quickly; this patch of woods in 2006:
Now looks like this:
For me, the river crossings are highlights of the trip--the scrubby woods and swampy floodplains are shady and full of life. In April, migrant warblers and vireos sing in the riparian woods. This time I heard a few Northern Parulas, and a White-eyed Vireo near a river crossing where, in a group and facing the only real traffic of the trip, I couldn't even slow down to check things out, never mind take picture.
There are also scattered ponds and wetlands along the way--some of the old ponds had lots of large downed trees this time, perhaps from a storm. You'll sometimes see patches of standing water in the woods, or brushy, wet fields, although not enough plants are leafed out in mid April to get a good idea of what's there (but a real botanist could figure it out).
Most of this land, probably including almost all of what is now woods, has been farmed for a long time (since the colonial period?), and there are still working farms with older farm houses along the route.
Others have been abandoned.
The National Park Service maintains the small "Stonewall Jackson Shrine" in Guinea Station. Little is said about Jackson, but the signs for the single remaining plantation building there do a good job of pointing out that a lot of the agricultural wealth of the area was built on slave labor.
There aren't any real towns along the route, although there are scattered groups of small, mid-20th-century or earlier houses along the road, and every road junction has a name, such as Villeboro:
Newer houses are more ambitious
and more are on the way:
Eventually the incomers will be faced with the "untidiness" of real rural living, and fears over lost investment value will lead to complaints about the ways people keep old things that might be worth something.
Fortunately, for now there are plenty of quiet, pleasant places there for the people who live there, and for the occasional visiting cyclists.
Complete set of photos <a href="
http://www.flickr.com/photos/certhia/sets/72157604539657003/">here</a>.
