Title: Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Category: Eager to ride
Blog Entry: Well, this trip journal will be different than I plan on doing most of the time. ‘Cause the trip was a very impulsive thing and we were playing catch-up thorough the whole trip, and I couold not keep up with the daily journal thing. I am still trying to get some kinda’ format for this travelogue. So bear with me on this one. A very special friend of mine, Sheila Kay Adams, emailed me and said that I needed to come up to her place for a bit, and that she was having some friends over too. There would be people, talk, music and something from the woods to drink. Lauren and I packed some clothes and gassed the Sportster. Actually I keep the bike gassed all the time, ‘cause I ride every day. At any rate, we got on the four-lane hell road and promptly took the wrong one. Asheville, you see, has a road engineering program that was conceived in the late ‘60s, and I am convinced the people who did it must have had the BEST mind altering chemicals that the ‘60s had to offer. Let’s just say the interstates that flow thru here are confusing in a way that makes no logical sense. At any rate, we finally got on the correct interstate. That Sportster is so nice, compared to anything else I have ridden. At 65 or 70, there is still so much throttle and power left… And I feel so solid on the highway. Other bikes have left me wondering if a still breeze could push us over. But this bike… well you who know…know. Finally, after too much time on that vein of tarhell, we got to the Marshall/Hot Springs exit and got off that four lane nightmare. I guess that I just don’t like highways. They are too fast and you really cannot see anything but the road in front. There are no fun turns and steady speed is boring---even 90MPH gets boring after a bit. Of course no one I know will go that fast, but you know what I mean. Route 25/70; a long meandering road that winds through Western North Carolina farm and rural lands. It is a 2 lane thing that is also known as the Old Asheville Highway. That moniker came from pre-Civil War days. We were lucky in that there were not too many 4 wheeled cages to slow our pace down. When we got closer to Hot Springs the vistas began to open up and the curves began to lengthen and we could see some of the beauty that is Western North Carolina. Long sweeping curves---open vistas of pastures and mountains and river valleys. I could feel that Lauren was getting to that place where she needed a break. A coffee shop that I wanted to visit was coming up, so I stopped there. The sign on the locked door said, “I needed a mental health day.” Don’t we all know what that is like! So we walked it off a bit and looked down at the Laurel River and the trout in it for a bit. The river is soooo low; this drought needs to break soon. I finally saw Lauren’s eyes brighten up a little so we got back on and started again. “How much longer Daddy?” “About 45 minutes, but we’ll stop in 20 and relax some more. Maybe we can skip some stones in the river and see tadpoles too.” Route 208 is a fine wondering road that follows the river and gets away from it too. We did not get behind any cages, so I could ride my pace. I felt Lauren’s arms go out and fly us along the road. I felt her smile. We eventually came to the intersection of Routes 208 and 213 in Shelton Laurel and got off the bike. We had this place to ourselves and a feeling of tranquility and ease began to take over. We were almost to the Nancepatch and I wanted to talk with Lauren about our impromptu adventure. We talked a little, but the attention span of an 8 year-old kid is pretty short, so we started to walk around a bit and found an eddie big enough to skip some small stones. We saw some tadpoles and other fish swimming around. The birds were sings and zizzer bugs humming. A slight breeze went through my hair, and finally it was time to finish our trip. The last part of our journey crawled up the hills and glided down the other sides. It switched back and opened up. We flew and skidded our way there. Finally, the trees parted and a stretch of road straightened and the valley was there in front of us. We were there. We rode the twisty road to the world as it used to be. The last part was up to a cove on a dirt road: The Nancepatch. The bike roared a little too much and Marcia’s horse spooked a bit. My Sportster does not like dirt roads too much, but we made it to the top of the path and there it was. Banjo playing and talk, new people, strangers: friends. We talked like old friends this first night. The next day was new, my head was fine. Lauren woke me and we had some food, and filled ourselves in the woods around us. A magic place. Later, Lauren and Sheila went off and Marcia and I rode around the area a little. She rides like a pro. Maybe it is because she rides a horse. At any rate, I did not even know she was there. We found a road that went over the mountain. Newly paved and twisty. We found a place to get beer in Flat Rock and off we went again. We stayed an extra night. The hospitality of the mountain people in Western North Carolina is wonderful. We had an incredible little respite from the real world. They took us in and made us so welcome. Lauren’s eyes were so alive and she laughed and ran and played with the animals. At last it was time to mount up and start the journey home. Hugs and kisses. Promises made for roads to be travelled later. We went a different way home and got a little turned around…roads leading to no place and ending there. Finally we found the right way, and wound our way to Marshall and the new pizza place. OMG, the best pizza I have had. Thick slices of pepperoni. MMM!The ride from there was nice and twisty, but the magic from Sunday was gone, and Lauren was tired. We had to stop ‘cause I could feel her nodding. We watched the French Broad go by and its fish with it.
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