I woke to the golden hues of cloverleaf sunrise in Middleburg...
It was time to pack up and begin a day that would finally bring me out of the Carolinas and into Virginia. I had no idea what this new state would be like from the street level. I'd been to Virginia several times, but always as a pampered tourist, visiting my mom when she lived there, but never as a homeless hiker and Nomad. I set out...
Leaving Middleburg.
Manson. I would take a picture of every tiny post office in the towns I passed through.
Another miniscule town. Unlike most of the other towns along Route 1,
its center was set off to the east.
Again I found a mummified reptile on the shoulder. I checked into the species
(thanks to Natalie and her uncle) of this snake and found that it is a juvenile northern water snake.
I would encounter many very small structures that inspired my
"tiny house" aspirations with their nice architecture.
Sometimes - every now and then - my travels drag me across a real treasure. In Ridgeway I passed this building not knowing anything about it. But it turns out that the Ridgeway Opry House is a full functioning venue for local musicians...
I found this house very interesting. What in the world would you do
with such a tall roof story, with no windows? It is nearly the height of the first two floors.
The house above was intriguing. But I was more interested in the very finely appointed tiny guest house next to it...
Antebellum. But columns are far too slender and windows too small
and separated. Still a good attempt.
Despite the distracted drivers and lack of road shoulders it seemed like a relatively short walk to...
Or ends...in my case.
Oh good, only twenty two miles more to walk on this day. Ha!
Now that I was in Norlina, I knew I'd have to eat enough to last maybe a day and a half, and I wanted to find some kind of online service. But honestly, this place was lost in 1974. It is interesting to note that this was the old library--a train car...
It has since been moved to this new building across the street. But their hours were 2:00-6:00 pm, a bit too late for me...
Norlina Public Library.
This was a seriously small and relatively primitive town. Besides gas station food, it seemed there was nowhere to buy lunch. I really wanted to find a restaurant--even have a hot meal if possible. As I worked my way a mile up the road to the northern part of town, there was only one street left to explore. That's when I found this place...
Norlina Whistlestop Cafe, in what was the only long building on the main drag.
Looking the opposite direction.
I was a-some peckish! So I ordered a bacon cheeseburger, potato wedges, a side salad and a Coke. The place was bare-bones, with the locals munching on chicken livers and such. The server-slash-counter person-slash-phone answerer was out straight. She was a nice red-headed girl with a thick North Carolina accent.
She brought my Coke (in the bottle, with a glass of ice). The main course took quite a while to arrive, but the salad showed up shortly after the Coke. It was a simple affair--iceberg lettuce, a wedge of tomato, a couple slices of cucumber, some token yellow cheddar cheese shreds, a packet of blue cheese dressing and a bunch of "salad crackers" packs (which I'd never really seen before--most of them went into a backpack pocket). The salad was really good actually.
I pulled out the laptop to see if I could get a signal. No dice. I did process the pictures from the last day, and then got up to use the restroom. When I returned, my burger and potato wedges were waiting for me with the check, which had no prices nor total on it.
The burger was delicious--a third of a pound of beef, good amount of bacon, lettuce, tomato and mayo. I ate and continued to process pictures. When I was done and needed to get going, I placed the credit card on the check and slipped them both to the outside of the table. The server kept walking past me, almost as if she was avoiding me.
Finally, I caught her eyes, and she walked over. Indicating that I'd like to pay now, I tapped the card with my fingertip. She said, looking embarrassed, that "First of all, we only take check or cash..." I hadn't thought to look at the notices on the front door. Now, I was the embarrassed one. I told her I was sorry and that I could go get cash.
She then continued her first thought, "But... Someone paid for your meal, so you're all set!" I asked her who it was, and she smiled and told me that it was "A good Christian man. He and I go to the church." I knew at that moment that it was the guy who stared at me when I first entered the cafe. Her name was Jessica. If you ever have the pleasure of driving up Historic Route 1 through Virginia, stop in when you get to Norlina and say hi to Jessica for me. Because of her and the generosity of the fine people here I ate my daily meal for free.
It was time to move on. I still had more than 20 miles to walk...
A look back at the welcome sign.
Again,I'm highlighting small building architecture to show ideas for tiny houses.
After a gawdawful amount of time I reached the Smith River and knew I was only steps away from the border...
The last crumbling bridge I'd see.
The Smith River.
A sentimental look back at the place where I had spent so much time. Goodbye to the Carolinas.
My very first impression of this part of Virginia? Cleaner roadsides than North Carolina. Well trimmed properties, even the rougher ones. The bridges were in much better condition than its Southern neighbors. The air smelled sweet. While the temperature was a bit cool, it had a consistent humidity. I liked it and was looking forward to getting further into the state...
Just after taking the above shot, a bald eagle left a branch about thirty feet above me and soared over to the other side of the street, disappearing over the tree line there. It was the first time I'd ever seen such this magnificent bird in the wild..
Panoramas of the hill before the Roanoke River.
It was late afternoon. The sun sparkled off the wide Roanoke River. Right at this point there were plenty of great sleep spots everywhere. But as I looked around while walking further up Route 1, I noticed that "No Trespassing" signs were regularly showing up...
I couldn't help taking a picture of my walking nemesis: the American Sweetgum "burr balls." The billions upon billions of them that I have walked on all around the Southern states have made the road shoulders a minefield of hard round ankle breakers...
I was sweaty, my heels - especially the left one - were sore and sometimes jabbing me sharply with knife-like pain. There were still about twelve miles to go to make it to South Hill. I was not going to last whole way, but each opportunity to stop for the next six miles just did not feel right.
I was in a long stretch where only a few houses punctuated unused fields, when I heard dogs barking angrily right around the corner. They smelled me.
Now, I'm used to leashed dogs, or dogs kept in pens. But immediately I recognized that they were running toward me. I turned to the right and saw two large pitbull mixed dogs with the hair up on their shoulders--one yellow and one brown; running across the road toward me. A car went by and nearly hit the brown dog. He turned around a few times as if to get his bearings, while the yellow dog made it all the way to my side.
I tried to keep walking as if I was ignoring him, but he wouldn't have it, and ran up trying to nip at my calves. I turned around, put out my palm in front of him, yelling "NO!!" He stepped back. Meanwhile the brown dog had also made his way to my side of the road. The two began to pack hunt me. One would distract me while the other would make an end run around me.
Cars were zooming by. One slowed down to beep at the brown dog who kept standing in the road. It was obvious that the brown dog was the beta. I tried again to walk forward away from them. The yellow dog came at my legs again from behind. That's when a now-familiar feeling come over me.
I needed a final and convincing act to get rid of these two wolf-wannabees.
I'd been wearing my shades and realized that these made me look even more foreign to them. I looked over my shoulder and when the yellow dog came at me again, I turned around quickly, pulled off my shades, bent down to his face, and let loose the same kind of roar I used in Nashville with the coyote. I suddenly saw my own face as if from the dog's perspective. My eyes were bulging out. My lips were drawn back around my teeth which were being bared. my tongue was in the middle of my mouth like a serpent, and the noise that came out was a mixture of growling dog, roaring big cat, and hissing snake. Honestly? I even frightened myself.
Instantly, the dog went down to a crouching position, his tail tip fell to the ground, and he yelped as if I had smacked him across the face. He was done. What kind of creature was I? He looked back and forth, confused. The brown dog ran to the other side of the street and bark loudly. He was cueing his brother to return to the yard, and the yellow dog did, just as a car almost plowed him over. The two ran back to the house. And, I put my shades on and started walking forward again.
My body was filled with endorphins. I was surprised how calm my heart was, beating regularly. I owned those fucking dogs, without harming them and without them being hit by a car. My confidence for dealing with such situations spiked. What kind of place would not keep their precious dogs on leashes? I chalked it up to a one time event.
I'd been through enough on this day. I just wanted to find a sleep spot and settle in for the night. It until I reach a point where Route 58 joined Route 1, seeing this eccentric place...
I came upon a stretch of public buildings, and finally saw how much more distance I had to get to South Hill...
I was in need of a Gatorade for the night, and really wanted a beer. There was no indication of a store, until I'd gone another half mile, when I caught sight of a tiny green sign. Of course I don't have glasses anymore, so I used the camera's extreme zoom to see what it was...
YES! Beer and Gatorade were in my future.
After buying my relaxing and hydrating elixirs, I stuffed them (with a great deal of effort, I might add) into Saggy. Now - even though I could hardly walk after 25 miles, a border crossing, and a dog rumble - I set out again with one mission: find a sleep spot. I did, only a short distance up the road.
It wasn't too bad. Thick woods, a soft pine needle bed, plenty of tiny spiders and the chance of rain. Who could ask for more? I stood outside and drank my beer...
After climbing into the tent, I discovered some of the reason why the right heel was hurting more than normal. I had a blister...
I took care of that unpleasantness with my knife, then settled down to sleep. I thought it would be a deep restful sleep after all I'd done that day. But it really wasn't.
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