In 1976, Peggy Vahle rode her bicycle across the country, accompanied by her poodle, Poo, sitting in a handlebar bag. Before beginning her trip, a salesman in a Richmond bicycle shop told her: “You’ll never make it across the Appalachians on this bike, and you’ll send the dog home too.” Two months later, the salesman received a postcard from Reedsport, Oregon: “WE MADE IT,” with two names: Peggy and Poo.

Vahle’s trip across the United States was part of the Bikecentennial, an organized ride that promised to bring cyclists into contact with rural America as part of the celebration of two hundred years since the Declaration of Independence. The Bikecentennial Route spanned the country from Astoria, Oregon, to Yorktown, Virginia. Cyclists rode more than five hundred miles in Virginia, from the Historic Triangle (Jamestown, Williamsburg, and Yorktown) through central Virginia, over the Blue Ridge, through Catawba Valley and the New River Valley, over the Mount Rogers region, and into Kentucky at Breaks Interstate Park.

In early June 1976, Vahle left Jamestown with her group of cyclists, including eight men and three other women. The Bikecentennial was organized “as a healthful, non-polluting approach to meaningful adventure during the Bicentennial and in the future years,” according to the Rappahannock Record. More than four thousand riders registered for either the entire transcontinental ride or regional sections. The first riders left Virginia and Oregon on May 15, 1976, so Vahle and her group were among the earliest to leave.

Herald Progress, June 16, 1976

The ride by Vahle and Poo was described in two articles published in 1976. The first article, published by the Chicago Tribune on June 12, 1976, drew upon interviews with Vahle and other cyclists in Kentucky, about one-third of their way across the country. The second article, published exclusively by the Rappahannock Record on September 16, 1976, recounted the story of Vahle’s ride from the beginning to end.

Peggy and Poo were a distinctive pair. According to the Rappahannock Record, realization that a dog was riding with the group provoked “expressions of dismay and doubt: several persons felt that having a pet along would slow the pace and otherwise complicate matters for the entire group.” Once the group realized Vahle’s determination, they voted her the “rider carrying the most useless weight” in reference to her four pound poodle.

The syndicated article about the riders in Kentucky drew attention to Vahle and Poo, “wearing a sailor suit and sitting in a basket on her handlebars.” The article offered this extended commentary from Vahle about her dog and the cycling experience: “I don’t think Poo knows she’s a dog. She’s always been pampered, and she won’t eat if I leave her with someone, so I had to bring her. Her vet even recommended it.”

Poo also didn’t seem bothered by “the nemeses of those who cycle the countryside, barking farm dogs,” at least according to Peggy: “When dogs run up to the bike, Poo only looks at them over the top of her basket. She never barks back. I swear, she just thumbs her nose, as if to say, ‘Ha, you have to run and make a fool of yourself I ride’.”

In the article published in the Rappahannock Record, Vahle offered a summary of her answers to the most frequent questions while she and Poo rode across the country: “When it rains, I raise the canopy over her basket. When I fall, the dog jumps clear and is on terra firma long before the bike and I hit the ground.” When the weather got cold, Vahle bought a sheepskin and wrapped up Poo. Both Peggy and Poo went into restaurants, and only once were they asked to leave by management.

Rappahanock Record, September 16, 1976

The early stages of Vahle’s ride helped launch one of the more durable legacies of the Bikecentennial in the story of June Curry, the “Cookie Lady,” of Afton Mountain. In the summer of 1976, June and her father lived in small houses towards the end of the long climb up Afton Mountain, which is the first major ascent for cyclists since leaving Jamestown. June did not know anything about the Bikecentennial Route until she saw Vahle and Poo riding, with obvious difficulty, up the road. Seeing that June was watering her flowers, Vahle asked for a drink from the hose. June brought a glass of ice water for Vahle and a bowl of water to Poo.

For the rest of the summer, June Curry regularly offered water, and then cookies, to cyclists. Soon she was known as the “Cookie Lady,” and in the years that followed the Bicentennial, she became a legend among cyclists planning to ride across the country and to those in the area who regularly rode up Afton Mountain. June offered cookies, water, and even a place to stay overnight, and in return asked only for a postcard or photograph to remember the cyclists. June Curry passed away at age 91 in 2012, leaving a home full of cycling gifts, photographs, and postcards documenting appreciation for her generosity.

Reflecting on her summer from the comfort of her home, Vahle stated emphatically: “It was a wonderful trip and a terrific experience. I’d do it again!”

-E. Thomas Ewing, Virginia Tech

Caption: Buggies and Bikes Are Free From Motor Vehicle Traffic in Colonial Williamsburg

The Roanoke Times, May 30, 1976.

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