Slept in & left at 10am on a gorgeous morning, bright but cool. It was downhill for miles through a narrow valley most of the way to Wheeling. Stopped 2 miles from town & treated myself to a lovely breakfast in a bakery/restaurant before making a sharp climb that took me into Wheeling.
Wheeling had loomed large in my mind for at least a week now. The gateway to the West, the jump off point for so many heading towards Californ-i-a. For me, over the last three days, it represented salvation from the torments of Pennsylvania. Now that I arrived, I couldn't be @rsed, I went through that town quicker than a blue-arsed fly. In the blink of an eye I was over the bridge into bridgeport, its sister town on the far bank of the Ohio river & in Ohio state. I was told it would be hilly to St Clairsville but that the land would level out after that & so it was.
After St. Clairsville the road did level out & the cycling became relatively easy. The countryside had flattened out with fields & pastureland on either side. Then all of a sudden a couple of miles outside a small town called Morristown route 40 came to an abrupt end. I was left with 2 choices. Double back up the road & take wide detour to Old Washington where route 40 recommenced, or, head on to the interstate (illegal) & go like the clappers for 10-15 miles to Old Washington. I took the interstate and flew, gloriously for 2 miles before a police siren ended my gallop. The cop got out of his car & said I couldn't be on this road. I told him I'd been following Route 40 but that it had come to a dead end. He agreed that it was weird but I had to leave the interstate & showed me the route to follow. I asked him if there was any chance of a lift down to Old Washington. He just laughed.
And so it was that the rebel without a cause turned meekly on his tail and, slowly with head bowed took the back roads for Old washington. From here the going got a lot Slower. With the law on my tail I couldn't take any chances now!! At Fairview a town with no shops & only one public building..... a penny opera, I asked an old lady for directions. She was straight out "The Golden Girls" with her blue rinse, cigarette and gravelly voice. She was sound though. She told me a shortcut down to Old Washington.
2 miles down the road I hit a gravel track which was the 'shortcut' This track passed through some real 'Deliverance country' really quiet & remote. The gravel track slowed me to a crawl. After what seemed an age, & a downpour, I came to a church & miraculously the road transformed back into tarmac!! As the land dried out after the rain I remember going downhill & getting the sweetest aroma from a flower I'd ever smelled, I don't know what plant it was but it was gorgeous in that fresness just after the rainfall.
At old Washington I rejoined route 40 and pushed the last 13 miles in to Cambridge. A couple of miles outside the town a large dog charged out at me. I jumped off the bike (which you have to do otherwise they'll knock you off) but I lost my grip of the bike and it clattered in to the road. Cars coming up behind me had to stop as I quickly pulled the bike up to keep it between me & the dog. thankfully the dog left me alone but it was a fright.
In Cambridge I went into a fast food place to get directions from a group of girls behind the counter. 15 mins later I had my room. It was about 8.30pm. A quick trip to a neary supermarket & I was sorted.
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