Misfortunes -- opportunities in disguise
29 April - Alta Vista-middle of nowhere (Bedford County): 50s-low 60s, sunny; 8:30-12:00, 25.9 miles
Another awesome road this morning - at times running beside the creek beneath a canopy of trees, then climbing for a magnificent ride along the ridgelines, with farms carved from the forested hills. Being Saturday morning, the road was virtually traffic-free.
Unfortunately, we didn't plan on a leisurely ride to Roanoke - we wanted to speed there quicker than bikes could take us so we could get the visit to the emergency room over. When I awoke this morning, my mouth told me there was something wrong. A quick glance in the mirror revealed something resembling a bloodblister on my gums stretching to my front teeth.
I elected for caution, wanting someone to tell me to tough it out (or to make out my will). Alta Vista had no emergency room, and the EMS people couldn't tell me anything but offer to take me by ambulance for $300. Instead we tried hitch-biking - riding along and sticking our thumbs out when we heard a vehicle approach from behind. Of course people thought we were commenting on the wonderful day, some even returning our 'thumbs up'.
At noon we stopped for a break, reasoning we could hitchhike while eating our snacks. Before I could finish my PowerBar, Charles (Ron) McElheney stopped to ask about our trip. Moments later he had our bikes in the back of his truck, and after a stop at his home, we were gone to Roanoke. We quickly found that Ron shared our interests: he and his wife Laura had toured on a tandem in years past; they owned flat-water kayaks like Sue and I; they enjoyed the simplicity of camping. For 45 minutes we traded war stories in the ER waiting room, while I waited for my exam. When the nurse took me upstairs at 2:20, I figured our time here was nearly done.
By 3:30 no one had said 'Boo' to me in my ER room. When I tired of standing in the doorway glaring at the nurse ignoring me, I decided to be productive. There was a computer on the shelf, turned on but unused, so I got onto the internet and spent 2o minutes checking our planned bike route for tomorrow.
The doctor finally came in at nearly 4:00, chatting amiably and apologizing for the wait. He grabbed a new hand-held microscope and looked into my mouth, commenting, "Man, that looks cool!" Admitting that it was full of blood, he said it wasn't infected -- just monitor it and let it heal.
Ron now took us back to his home, where we showered and changed. He then took us to Smith Mt. Lake, where we joined he, Laura, and several of their friends for a cookout. More wonderful, friendly people. (Really. Who woulda guessed?) Before dinner, we helped step off the boundaries of a new home the owners planned to build on the lot, admiring the views of the lake and mountains. During dinner, the conversation segued into a hysterical riff filled with metaphors and double entendres that had me laughing until I cried. I'll never think of water pumps and head pressure in the same way again!
Another awesome road this morning - at times running beside the creek beneath a canopy of trees, then climbing for a magnificent ride along the ridgelines, with farms carved from the forested hills. Being Saturday morning, the road was virtually traffic-free.
Unfortunately, we didn't plan on a leisurely ride to Roanoke - we wanted to speed there quicker than bikes could take us so we could get the visit to the emergency room over. When I awoke this morning, my mouth told me there was something wrong. A quick glance in the mirror revealed something resembling a bloodblister on my gums stretching to my front teeth.
I elected for caution, wanting someone to tell me to tough it out (or to make out my will). Alta Vista had no emergency room, and the EMS people couldn't tell me anything but offer to take me by ambulance for $300. Instead we tried hitch-biking - riding along and sticking our thumbs out when we heard a vehicle approach from behind. Of course people thought we were commenting on the wonderful day, some even returning our 'thumbs up'.
At noon we stopped for a break, reasoning we could hitchhike while eating our snacks. Before I could finish my PowerBar, Charles (Ron) McElheney stopped to ask about our trip. Moments later he had our bikes in the back of his truck, and after a stop at his home, we were gone to Roanoke. We quickly found that Ron shared our interests: he and his wife Laura had toured on a tandem in years past; they owned flat-water kayaks like Sue and I; they enjoyed the simplicity of camping. For 45 minutes we traded war stories in the ER waiting room, while I waited for my exam. When the nurse took me upstairs at 2:20, I figured our time here was nearly done.
By 3:30 no one had said 'Boo' to me in my ER room. When I tired of standing in the doorway glaring at the nurse ignoring me, I decided to be productive. There was a computer on the shelf, turned on but unused, so I got onto the internet and spent 2o minutes checking our planned bike route for tomorrow.
The doctor finally came in at nearly 4:00, chatting amiably and apologizing for the wait. He grabbed a new hand-held microscope and looked into my mouth, commenting, "Man, that looks cool!" Admitting that it was full of blood, he said it wasn't infected -- just monitor it and let it heal.
Ron now took us back to his home, where we showered and changed. He then took us to Smith Mt. Lake, where we joined he, Laura, and several of their friends for a cookout. More wonderful, friendly people. (Really. Who woulda guessed?) Before dinner, we helped step off the boundaries of a new home the owners planned to build on the lot, admiring the views of the lake and mountains. During dinner, the conversation segued into a hysterical riff filled with metaphors and double entendres that had me laughing until I cried. I'll never think of water pumps and head pressure in the same way again!
1 Comments:
At 4:24 PM, L.& C mcelhaney said…
We were happy to have spent time with you and hope you return to the VA moutains soon. ride safe laura
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