17 miles with the goal to visit the grave of an old equestrian endurance friend who died in 2004 at age 49 of cancer. (I'm a genealogist so I'm quite at home haunting graveyards in the corporeal form). Her ashes are buried in the graveyard of a church "the next town over" which was accessible two ways: 1. via 2 miles of a major 55mph paved two lane highway with zero (seriously not kidding) shoulders, or 2. a historic gravel road called Greengarden Road that is little changed from 150 years ago when the North and the South both sent soldiers and cavalry on that byway enroute to local engagements of gunfire and skirmishes (and thievery) during The War of Northern Aggression (aka The Civil War).

I chose the rutted, steep, "blind curves everywhere" gravel road as a measure of car free peaceful riding, not to mention the history that snuck into every view and turn of the old road. The roads still echo to hoofbeats, albeit of modern horses, but very few, if any, cars venture that way anymore. At one time it was only hoofprints that tracked the road, equines and horse drawn wagons both fording the creeks with aplomb. But about 1900 cars and bicycles began gaining momentum among horses with the use of the roads, and fording a creek suddenly became a nuisance rather than a nevermind. In the late 1910's the roads commission embarked on a program in the county to bridge all the difficult fords, and a standardized structure (like the one in the photo) soon became part of the countryside. Hundreds of these little concrete bridges were built, and the majority of them still stand today, very tired and weather worn, but carefully maintained and treasured under state historic protection. This bridge in the photo is next to Sunken Lane where Union Brigadier-General John Buford turned his troops to flank the major byway (now called Rt 50) in pursuit of the Southern troops during the Battle of Upperville (June 21st 1863).

The guns are long gone, as are the soldiers, and all is silent now, the creeks flowing slowly with unmuddied water. The peace and quiet of the countryside under my wheels was so soothing - just me, my bike, and the woodland and pastureland countryside. In 3 miles the tranquility ended with my arrival at Rt 50 in Upperville - and a lovely 25mph speed limit through the entire 2 miles of town. I stopped at the church graveyard to lay flowers on my friend's grave, then walked my bike out of the parking lot just as those attending the Sunday morning service were turning in and parking their cars. A half mile later I turned onto Trappe Road, passing endless farm fields that a century and a half ago were filled with soldiers from all corners of the US. Only the stone walls, the gravel roads, and historical signs bear witness to those that fought and died on these fields to keep the US from fracturing. I biked along under an overcast gray sky, solitary and thoughtful, until I once again hit the paved road. Then it was home to look up those battles, and the history of those unique little concrete bridges.

I don't think one should ever forget the places our bikes take us to, nor the history that came long before we left our own tracks in passing.


https://markerhunter.wordpress.com/2...of-upperville/
https://loudounnow.com/2017/07/14/tr...unpaved-roads/