Sprocket and I leaped out of bed and took a nice run back down the road. Forrest picked us up about halfway down the road and we all headed for Culpeper. We took some back roads through the countryside which were quite pretty. We found ourselves back at I-81 which we used to get to Buchanan, an access point to the Blue Ridge Parkway and a very cute little town.
Virginia was deemed our favorite part of the Blue Ridge–there were many more access points and the hills were more rugged. We had breakfast at Peaks of Otter, the restaurant was pretty cute with a nice view of a little pond and Sharp Top. The Parkway lead us to the southern end of Shenandoah. We decided to forgo driving the Skyline Drive as driving almost all of the Blue Ridge had satiated our need to drive the ridge tops.
From there we drive straight to Culpeper where Gwynn welcomed us all. We had thai for lunch and Forrest discovered that he actually DOES like thai food (“Just not thai soup.”) Back at Gwynn’s house we relaxed and watched Sprocket terrorize Brutus. I spent some time applying for jobs and F, Gwynn, and Steve watched “Avitar.”
This morning started with a nice leisurely breakfast with Chris before hitting the road bound for the Blue Ridge Parkway. We had a long coffee break at Doughton Park complete with yummy buttermilk biscuits (the cafe was really old complete with retro lunch counter in front of the grill). Leaving the cafe we were pretty excited to check out the music center but as has been typical of our Parkway experience it was closed. This left both of us feeling quite fed up with the park service (again).
A quick jaunt to the west on I-77 brought us to Pulaski (BFE). The first thing we saw driving into town was the home field of the Pulaski Mariners–the short season A-club for Seattle! This made my first order of business finding out whether they were in town. Sadly, their season won’t start until next week. Another bag of dog food and we were on our way to Virginia 730 and the lovely community of Eggleston. Further north, along highway 42, we crossed the Appalachian Trail where Sprocket and I took a short walk (F rested his calf) then we drove through Mayville. Just past the booming metropolis of Sinking Creek we spotted a turn off for a road into Jefferson National Forest. After the longest three miles ever there was a road to something knob (the sign was broken off) in 4 miles–we followed that over an even longer four rocky miles to our campsite for the night. When it’s really quiet we can hear the banjos.