The desk clerk at the Fort Knox Wickam Guest House showed me a better way back to I-64, using I-65.  Getting out of Fort Knox was a bit quicker than getting in.  Heading east from Louisville quickly led to hills beginning the Appalachian Mountains.  One notable feature of this landscape is the stratified rock in many areas, with absolutely flat layers carved into hills and valleys by either glaciers or water erosion .  It seemed that the state was repairing the whole highway leading to Charleston, WV, all at once because I passed into and out of construction zones every few minutes.  It was Saturday, so there was no actual contruction under way, but the contstruction-zone speed limit signs were still up.  Solution - just go the same as everyone else.  I didn't see a single state police car in either Kentucky or West Virginia. 

    One of the gas stops along here in Kentucky was a half mile off the Interstate along a creek road.  It looked like a typical rural general store/gas station.  There was a sheriff's deputy having coffee, a couple of fishermen getting groceries, and some local teenagers hanging around.  The teenagers asked about my motorcycle, and appeared to know a bit about motorcycles in general, but they didn't know anyone personally who had one like the XR650L.  I took a few extra minutes here to enjoy the friendly atmosphere.  Plus, drank a whole cup of coffee.

    Charleston, WV, is a classical American capital city, with a historical capitol building having a dome apparently covered in gold leaf.  Very striking, indeed.  The "through" route runs rather circuitously around several parts of the city, leading eventually to the second surprise toll road - West Virginia's turnpike.  Charleston has a charm that makes me plan a return visit.

    The turnpike heads into the hills, where I smelled pine trees for the first time on the whole trip.  A very pleasant ride.  Once on I-81 at Buena Vista, VA, I was on familiar territory, having driven that way several times in the last ten years. 
 

It was rather warm and sunny, so by mid-morning I had stowed the heavy jackets and mittens by tying them in a bundle attached to my belt.  The small windshield kept wind from blowing them around too much, but now I really had too much stuff hung on me for comfort.  With this bundle in front and the butt-bag halfway off to the side, plus the chock-a-block full back pack, the lack of saddlebags was a bit of a bother.  But that soon changed.

    Part way up I-81 to Front Royal I finally caught up with the back side of the big storm.  Suddenly (within about five miles) the temperature dropped from about 85 deg F to 55, with fog and drizzle, so I pulled off at an exit and put on the snowmobile suit for the remainder of the trip to Fairfax, VA.  The rest was uneventful.  I arrived at about 7:30 PM, elated that I had succeeded where many had forecast danger and doom, but somewhat disappointed that it was over.  I had really gotten used to motorcycle touring, and I could have kept right on going.