Day 3: Laurel Fork Campground to Lewisburg WV

Early morning finally rolled around and it got light enough to see through the dim chill of morning.  I crawled out of my tarp set up and started getting ready to go.  I decided to dump the Starbucks Via into my water bottle and try some cold coffee.  I nibbled on a granola bar as I packed up and was packed and ready in about 20-30 minutes.  Good to know,  30 minutes a day over 4 days is two hours more ride time.

I went to the outhouses to change into my wet riding clothes.  It was a cold and damp night with high humidity and my clothes didn't dry like the previous night,  but it turns out it didn't really matter.  As soon as I hit the climb right outside of the campground,  the rain started.  And it didn't let up for another 8 hrs or so....

I made it up and over the bridge to Glady and had to remind myself to stop beating myself up over the logistical mistake from the day before.  Things happen and I made solid decisions that kept me safe.  Sure enough the picnic shelter next to the church was there and would have been a great place to sleep.  Next time.

Onto the West Fork Trail, I started the slog south.  The next 80 miles would be rail to trail conversion and I was hoping to get it all complete by the end of the day.  It was raining, but I seemed to be making good time.  I was holding a steady 15-16 mph, through some sloggy damp, chipped gravel double track.   Apparently this section of the trail is less traveled so it did sap some energy.

At one point, I came across the only people I would speak to in the next 25 miles.  A tent set up in the middle of the trail.  Two bikes outside the tent and a wine bottle laying beside the tent.  It looked like fun times.  I greeted the tent and rang my bell.  A nerdy sounding voice inside the tent greeted me.  The excited voice told me that they were just out for a little trip to view the wildflowers, which were abundant,  and they had stopped there because the hummingbirds were numerous.  I told the voice what I was doing and bid farewell. 

 This portion of the trail is very remote,  no traffic, no people, just me and God... and that big crashing sound in the woods.  Not sure what that was, but also not sticking around to find out.  The scenery was great and I was cruising.  Feeling good, but then about 15 miles into it, I was feeling a little drained.  Tired of riding through wet, freshly mowed grass, I noticed a road on the other side of the river.  I decided to find a place to cross the river, and get on the road, hoping to make better time.  After another mile, I found a bridge access , and got on the road.  I immediately regretted that decision because the road was not flat, but rolling hills with punchy climbs.  About 2 miles later, I got back on the rail trail.

 I made it to Durbin,  and then got on Back Mountain Road.  It was still raining off and on, but for some reason this was my favorite section of the whole route.  A high mountain rolling hills paved road, winding through the WVA back country.  Houses all around, but no one in sight.  I was running low on water, so started to look for somewhere to fill up.  I passed a large garage where an older man and a younger man were outside in the rain working on a dump truck.  I stopped and asked if they had a spigot I could use to fill up on water.  They said sure then asked if I was going to drink it. I said yes and they told me not to.  They then told me to go into the back of the garage and get a couple of water bottles out of the fridge,  they told me it was right next to the beer and I could have one if I wanted.  I passed on the beer but snagged a couple of bottles.  One I emptied into my sports bottle and dropped in a tab of nuun.

We chatted about life for a moment and they asked what I would do if it kept raining.  This whole time, with rain pouring down, they were outside getting soaked, working on the truck.  I said"  I'll keep on keepin' on.... kind of like you guys".  They chuckled and we shared a mutual respect.   I rode on. 

After 15 miles of pavement, I came to the little town of Cass, complete with train station, general store and grill.   I settled in and ordered a BLT with mayo on the side.  It came with a side of chips and I also ordered a hot chocolate.  I ate the whole thing.  I wanted to order another sammy, but knew that it would get soaked.  Before leaving, I stopped by the pay phone to call Rhonda and make plans for pick up at the end of the ride.  I wasn't sure where or when I would be tomorrow, but wen needed to make plans.

I took my time eating and getting ready to roll out, hoping the rain would let up, but it didn't.  So I did what I had to do and kept heading south. 

It continued to rain on me for the next 24 miles to Marlinton.  I was soaked, and started to get chilled.  Knowing that was not a good combo,  I pulled off route into town and into the Dirty Bean.  I expected some sort of warm welcome, but did not get that.  The employees were gruff and when I asked to borrow a phone, there was some resistance.  In the shop/ cafe at the same time were two families with a total of four kids.  They were out for a weekend of camping, and were soaked as well.
I borrowed the phone and called Rhonda again to leave a message.  I hung out and chatted, still hoping the rain would let up.  It turns out, one of the lady's relatives live in the Asheville area.

After a long discussion with myself in my head, I decided to pull the plug.  I could not go on in this weather, and everyone in town was telling me that the rain would continue through Sunday.  But the problem was that if I stopped here for the night, Rhonda would have to drive 1.5 hours north to pick me up, then the trip home would be close to 5 hrs.  I  was bummed, but did not want to end up in a hypothermia heap somewhere down the trail.  I found the Old Clark Inn and  spent some time there still trying to decide if I should stay the night or head on down the trail.  They had internet access so I got on to check the weather for myself.  I also called Rhonda and finally got in touch with her.  I found that the rain was moving northeast and should be clearing up soon.   I made the decision to continue pedaling.  The awesome staff was instrumental in helping me through this low time of the day and I am forever grateful for their understanding.  If I ever head that way again, I will plan on making use of the inn!!  Thanks Andrea! ( and they used to live in Asheville)

 Once again, I headed south.  Before I left town, I went to the local gas station for a Gatorade and 2 slices of pizza.   My total rang up to $6.66.   I'm generally not superstitious but today I took heed.  When I went outside and took a closer look at the pizza, it looked like it had been there for a while.  You know how melted cheese looks after it sits all day?   Yup,  I took one bite and decided to toss it.  Oh well.  I ate an oatmeal cream pie instead. 

At this point, bored with the monotony and hoping for an extra kick of motivation, I did something that I have only done once before in my life.  I pulled out my iPod and put earphones in my ears.   The trick is that the screen shows only the white screen of death, but if I only tap the screen once, the music plays.  Somehow it got set on shuffle, which worked out well.  I started pedaling again and enjoyed the distraction.

10 Miles later I came to Jack Horner's Corner,  a cafe, souvenir shop.  I stopped for a Coke, hot dog with slaw and mustard, a Rice Krispy Treat and a pack of crackers.  I didn't stay long and ate the dog while I was riding.  I had 50 miles to go and it was getting late.  I was making good time but was dreaming of a hotel room where I could take a hot shower, eat some good food and mostly dry out.  If I could make it to Lewisburg, I hoped to get that. 

As I pedaled, and the rain let up, people started coming out of the wood work.  Horse drawn chariots, walkers, bike riders, some out for  a little ride, others camping overnight,  horse back riders, people fishing,  more walkers,  some canoe campers floating down the river.  It was cool to see so many people out enjoying the trail.  I pedaled on,  focusing on what Eddie of 55Nine Performance had taught me when I got the WN Precision bike fit.  I had taken the Siren- John Henry down to get fit just a couple of weeks ago, and now, body fatigued but still maintaining the same pace as 6 hours ago,  I could tell a huge difference, and it is worth it. 

Around 3pm the skies almost cleared, and I was able to snap a few pictures of the scenery.

Looking forward

Looking back

Coke, my fav travel treat.  I save it for the last 10 miles.

The only complaint about this trail is the mile markers.  They are big and white concrete posts and I couldn't help but see the miles tick by.  I tried to ignore them but could not.  Oh well.   I finally popped out in the parking lot at the end of the trail and whooped.  Got my picture taken and headed off route to Lewisburg.  It turned out to be about 6 miles to the hotel, 3 of which was up hill.  In hindsight,  especially after seeing the campground the next day, a mere 6 miles up the road on route,  I would have camped.  But,  the hotel was nice and the BBQ bacon cheese burger was pretty darned good.  And so was the biscuit and sausage gravy buffet in the morning! 

I got to the hotel and got the last available single room,  perfect timing, woot!  Someone is looking out for me.  I peeled off the wet layers, took a shower, ate some food and it was lights out by 10pm.  Interestingly, my body was really hot, and still energized.  I didn't sleep great but was glad to be dry and have dry clothes to get into the next morning. 

When alone in a hotel room I can spread out and no one can say anything!  

I was glad to have pushed through and gotten within striking distance of the finish.  After 3 100+ mile days in a row, the last day should be around 92.  That's a lot of miles for a lot to go wrong, but I was optimistic.  The bike was great, and my gear was holding up just fine.  And my body,  I would have to make that judgement call in the morning.

Day 2: Morris Hill Campground to Laurel Fork Campground

 Day 2 finally dawned...sort of,  it started to get light and I rolled out of bed to eat my giant cherry danish and drink some coffee.   Between sips, chewing etc, I spent time tearing down my campsite and packing up.  Then all that was left was to finish my coffee.  If I stick around for coffee and breakfast, it takes me 45 minutes to an hour to pack up.  I had an idea to try something different the following morning.

I dropped down the mountain from the campsite, a deer here and there but no bears.  Bacova Junction came and went, and next up was Mountain Grove where there was supposed to be a store.  I was hoping for  a biscuit.

 As I was cruising along the rolling hills through some beautiful valley farm land,  Coles Mountain on the left and Little Mountain on my right,  I saw the couple below standing in the field beside the road.  She was working on painting the pine tree, so I took a picture of her painting the picture.  A few words of chit chat and I was gone  again. 

 Hanging a left on Richardson Gorge Rd, and onto some gravel beside the river, I was able to make pretty good time for the next couple of miles.  Early morning sun coming through the trees, the sound of the river, birds chirping, things were good. 

 Coming out on the other side of the gorge, I was greeted with some amazing views of Lake Moomaw.  With so much rain this year, everything was deep green and lush.  The temps were still cool and I was thankful for that.  I made sure that I was sipping water and eating something every half hour.  Winding around the lake, I made a quick stop at Bolar Flat Marina.  They have a freezer full of frozen foods, and some drinks in the cooler.  They lady told me to get the sausage and egg white biscuit if I wanted something low fat.  I told her that I needed all the fat I could get and she recommended the Jimmy Dean sausage, egg and cheese croissant.  I microwaved it, paid for it and an OJ and hit the road while I ate. 

 10 miles later, I made it to Mountain Grove.  A few houses and a darkened little gas station grill.  I walked into the all but deserted store and ordered a bacon and cheese biscuit and a bottle of Coke.  I carried a 16oz water bottle with me the entire time, that I filled with assorted drinks: Coke, Nuun, OJ, Gatorade etc.  Just for some more than water drink.  I stuck the biscuit and drink in my jersey pocket and headed up the road.

 At this point the route divides with the option of the Ridge Alternate.  Giving a person the option of a 19 mile gravel road up along the ridge.  I considered taking that route, but knowing that I had only 4 days to complete the 400 miles, I opted to play it safe and stick to the pavement in the valley.

 Continuing up the valley between the ridges, the valley rising and the ridges coming closer together, I definitely got the feeling that I was gaining altitude.  The air temps were still cool and the light mountain breeze felt great.  Wild flowers were in abundance. 

 I was in need of water, and stopped to glance at the map.  I could see  a church just up the road off route and was about to go see if they had an outdoor spigot so that I could fill up, when Valerie pulled up in her van and asked if I needed anything.  I told her that I knew where I was going, but wondered if the church had a water spigot.  She said she thought they did, but also said I should ride 3 miles up to her house, and she would get me some water.   

 When I pulled up, she was waiting outside with a jug full of water.  The water was from a spring behind her house.  She also gave me a big white peach which didn't last long.  Then she told me that her husband was 1 mile up the road at their Sugar Camp,   boxing up maple sugar candy.  She told me that if I had time I should stop there and he would give me some.  I was pretty excited.   I pulled out on the road, and enjoyed the peach while pedaling and watching for the Sugar Camp.   Somehow I missed the sign and never saw any candy.  After getting home I did some searching and found it: http://www.welcometobackcreek.com/cabin/  I'm so bummed that I missed out. Next time I might just stay at the cabin as they have a hot tub...

 Continuing up what is now a gravel road, amazed at the scenery and lack of people.  It felt good to be alone.  I love to be with people,  meet new people, but I like to be alone as well.  I wasn't really struggling with anything, trying to figure anything out,  trying to solve problems etc.  I was simply enjoying being.  That felt good. 

 Towards the end of gravel road 600, I took a left on Hwy 250.  This climb reminded me a lot of Hwy 215 out of Rosman.  Steep and seemingly never ending.  But it did finally end,  I have no idea how much later.  Then I had to make the choice of taking the Bartow cutoff and eliminating 45 miles of the route, or continuing to Glady.  I had been pondering the choice for a while, and since I was feeling good, and making good time, and not knowing if or when I would be back in the area,  I decided to go for it.   So a right turn on Hwy 28 and a left of FR 14 had me climbing up a steep gravel road. 

 24 miles to Glady, WV.  I had heard a rumor ( that turned out to be true) of a shelter at a church there that would be good for camping.  I decided that since it was only about 3pm, I should be able to get there fairly easily.   And then things got weird and a pattern was set for the rest of the trip.  I was doing fine but then got hot on the climb.  I stopped to splash this ice cold spring water on my head and kept riding at a very mellow pace.

 I continued riding, watching the map and counting down the miles.  I rode past several landmarks that I could see on the map.  Up another mile long climb and suddenly came to a cross roads that was not on the map and had no posted road signs.  I circled around, looked at the map,  tried to compare to the map on the kiosk.  I could not figure out where I was on the road.  I knew I was on the right road, but not sure if I had gone too far or not far enough.  I decided to turn left, hoping that this was the left turn to Glady.  I got hungry, at a little,  got to the top of the ridge and dropped down to a gate.  I turned to ride the mile up and back down to the cross roads.  Then I got the nauseous, dehydrated, hungry, bonky feeling.  Not good.  I was out there all alone and needed to get somewhere.  I reminded myself that I could always pull into the woods and camp if I needed to.  I decided to back track,  dropping the 2 miles back into the last valley, just in case I had missed the turn.  I went back to the last road that I remembered crossing.  I was convinced I had missed the turn that would leave me about 6 miles out from Glady.  When I got down,  I saw the sign that told me this was FR 17,  leaving with close to 20 miles still to Glady.  I was pretty mad at myself for making that mistake, but kept eating and drinking.  I popped a nuun tab into my water bottle and sipped on it.  I'm pretty sure that today, NUUN saved my life.  I'm not sure what would have happened otherwise.  

 The only thing to do was to keep riding, and so I did.  At a very slow crawl,  up and down,  doing my best to enjoy the scenery.  It was difficult.   And then I came to a point on route where I could drop down into the valley on the right to a campground, or continue .3 miles up the road, to drop down into Glady.  I again got confused, and thought that dropping down to the right would somehow take me to Glady.  I figured that if I did not find Glady,  I could always stay at the campground.  So I bombed down the 1.5 miles mistakingly convinced that I would see the town any minute.  I didn't,  I saw the campground, which turned out to be really nice.  I decided to stay there for the night and leave the fight for the next day.

An overlook

I took this picture, in case I didn't make it.  Figured it would be good for people to know that I was having a good time trying not to die!

The inside of my hotel room.

I set up camp, and was offered breakfast by one of my neighbors.  It wasn't ready at 6:30am when I headed out though so I missed out.  And was offered hot dogs and fried squash and potatoes by another family, which I readily accepted.

I took a dip in the creek and filled up my water bladder from the cold spring that was rushing out of the side of the mountain.  In bed by 8:30pm,  I spent the night again sleeping little,  thinking about getting up and riding some more, but also focused on relaxing.

I was down in a valley and it got pretty chilly.  I set up my tarp so that I could close it off and retain some heat.  I also layered up, wearing my rain pants over my knee warmers and camp shorts in an effort to stay warm.  It worked pretty well.

I planned to get up and going in the morning without making hot coffee.  I was curious to see what the day held

Day 1 Blacksburg to Lake Moomaw- 106 miles

 The window opened, and I thought it would be a good idea to attempt the Allegheny Mountains Loop.  I got dropped of in Christiansburg VA, and spent the night at the Microtel Inn,  cheap rates, nice room.  The day before and morning that I was supposed to start, I was feeling a bit nauseous, not sure why.  I was able to choke down half a bowl of granola before rolling out.  I think I was nervously excited.  I don't get the chance to take long rides often and I wanted to make the most of it.

I slept in and rolled out at 9am.  After arriving at VA Tech 6 miles later, I finally found the start at the War Memorial.  Then is was on.  I was out for an adventure.  While sometimes I consider going for a record,  I quickly remind myself that I would likely drive myself beyond my limits if I tried that.  Maybe one day.  I was hoping to complete the 400 mile loop in 4 days.  200 miles of pavement, and about 200 miles of gravel would present quite a challenge.  I felt I was ready.

 The first 20 miles out of town was rolling hills with some punchy climbs.  Normally, I would be able to make quick work of these, but loaded with food and gear, I was spinning and averaging 5mph on the steeper climbs.  The sun was out, the sky blue with puffy white clouds, and I was cruising,  glad to be alive and getting out on an adventure.  It has been a while since I was able to go somewhere new and I was not taking it for granted. 

And then 13.5 miles into the 400 mile ride I hit the first road block.  Literally.   The giant sign in the middle of the road said "Road Closed".  I looked at the map and saw that a detour would mean another 20-30 miles.   Ouch.  I rolled past the sign and around the corner and was greeted by a local sheriff's deputy.  His car's lights flashing, and he was leaning again the car looking pretty tough.  I rolled up and said " That's not a  good sign".  He said " Nope,  road's closed,  they are repairing the train tracks where the rain washed out under them".   I said something like "wow".   Then he mentioned that I might be able to squeeze through and I should go ask the construction crew.  

I pulled up to a big truck filled with 4 big dudes, and made some small talk.  Being tough construction dudes, they all ignored me, so I made some sort of joke,  I can't remember what, and they loosened up.  After a few minutes, the head guy radioed the machine working on the track to hold up and I was able to scamper through.  That was a relief.  

Back on track and rolling through towns like Sunnyside, Eggleston, Pembroke and Interior.   Most of the towns I passed through consisted of nothing but a few houses.  I was loaded down with food, and had enough for the trip,  but it is nice to be able to stop for  a sandwich and a coke occasionally. 

Crossing the New River

A short bit of gravel.

Climbing the grade up to Interior, I was able to make some good time.  The trees overhead were thick and I was cruising up the 2-3% grade.  I was running  low on water so I started looking at my options when I came across this cool little picnic area.  No water but would be a good place to stealth camp if someone got a late start on the rout. 

The route starts in Virginia and crosses back and forth into West Virginia several times.  I was going to take pictures each time I crossed but there weren't always signs, so I gave up on spending that energy.  I got to Waitville and had 11 ish miles to go to Paint Bank. (Waiteville is the point that the loop rejoins the route on the way back, forming the stick part of a lollypop loop)  That 11 miles was fairly flat, through a long valley with rolling ridgelines on either side.  I picked up the pace, looking forward to lunch at the Paint Bank General Store.  I didn't notice that I was getting overheated, and arrived in at the store a bit fuzzy.  I walked in a little woozy and asked for outdoor seating.  I saw people eating piles of french fries and my stomach churned. 

I wanted some of the BBQ fresh off this grill but ordered a salad and BLT instead.  Then I proceded to down 2 glasses of sweet tea and a glass of Nuun.  I could only eat a little bit of salad and 1/3 of the BLT though.  I payed my bill and explained that the food was good but that I was overheated and my body was not open for intake. 

Pulling out of Paint Bank was a sort of point of no return for me.  Rhonda was one phone call and one hour away.  If this had been 2 days later, that phone call would have been all too easy.  But since I was only 55 mile into the ride,  I headed out,  and was greeted by the first real climb of the day.

Kicking up to 8% in places, I shifted to the granny gear and climbed roughly 1000 ft in about 3-4 miles.  The scenery was amazing and I was enjoying the ride.  A middle aged guy pulled up next to me in a beat up subaru half way up the climb.  He said in a gruff, taunting  voice"  Hey, do you know where I can get some gas?  Cause I need some real bad!",  then started laughing and drove slowly up the mountain.  I could still hear him laughing as he went around the next bend.  I didn't see him again and was glad. 

Somewhere later that day, I hit my first 100 miles.  Yeah,  300 to go and I was feeling really good.  I'm not quite into stealth camping yet.  I definitely want to give it a go sometime, but with the relative comfort of a campground nearby and not far off route, I decided to go for the Campground at Lake Moomaw. 

I came to another road block with police lights and at this point I took my first wrong turn.  Fortunately, the road paralleled the actual route and looking at the map it appears to be more difficult, so I didn't negate my efforts and I didn't turn around.  The realist in me won that fight! 

And then there came the steep climb up to the campground.   A long 1 mile grind up to the ridge.  I got there, picked a camp site,  set up,  had dinner and watched the sun go down.  And then I realized that I had forgotten my long underwear.   It was turning bit chilly with just enough wafting breeze to make me wish I had them.  I settled for knee warmers. 

As I laid there, for most of the night, not sleeping, I kept asking myself why I wasn't riding?  I only got about 3 hours of intermittent sleep,  I was fed and warm,  I was not blown to bits and could walk around just fine.   Something to think about.....and then the sky started to get light and I rolled out of my sleeping bag,  excited for another day.  

Allegheny Mountains Loop

400 Miles, 4 days....trip report coming soon!

Lost and Confused

I couldn't figure it out.  This life thing.  I simply could not get it right.  I tried,  and tried.  Then I gave up, but I always tried again.  Sometimes right away, sometimes years later.  Relationships,  some broken, some destroyed,  some never happened.  Jobs,  some done well, with no passion, some devotedly passionate about, but not completed so well.   An overtly strong inner desire to flee when things didn't go my way.  A false truth that if someone disagrees, I should shut them out, pack up and move on. 

I was raised to fear failure.   Actually, not failure itself, but to fear the disappointment that would be a direct result from failure.

But to reach a goal successfully, one must know exactly what that goal is.   In a race, there is a set start and finish.  If the finish line was constantly being moved during the race, the athlete would never finish, and therefore fail.

In parenting,  a set goal should be determined so that all players know the rules.  If the authority figures (parents) change the rules slightly to move the finish line,  one can never really finish, which means that the participant can never receive the praise and encouragement  and feel successful completion.  In that way, the parents can maintain a sense of control on everything and everyone around them.  And when confronted with any issue, they can simply change the rules to protect themselves, making sure that they are never wrong, and the other party is seldom right.

This is the environment I grew up in.  I made the majority of my life's decisions based on what I thought would bring approval from the parents.  I was able to "get away" with some things that I wanted to do, but I knew where the line was, and I did not dare cross it for fear of utterly disappointing. 

It is quite normal for a parent to express disappointment in a child's behavior.  But there is a limit to how that disappointment is used and should not be used to manipulate the child to make choices that the child might or might not want to make.

After 37 yrs of living like this, I finally realized that I needed to confront the issues.  So I did,  and things blew up in my face.   I spent another 3 yrs of my life, digging, squirming, thinking, talking, sharing, listening,  trying to figure out what I was doing wrong.  At some point during the journey, I realized that I do not have to please my parents to be successful.  In fact, that is the very goal that was holding me back.  If I could rarely please them, I was chasing ghosts and wasting my time. (if you are a ghost chaser  please don't be offended). 

With some hope of a brighter future, I rebuilt a bridge.  Not the former one way bridge,  but a two way bridge,  where dialog could be had, with no toll booth at one end.  A free passage for anyone who wants to come and go in my life.  And they came,  but guess what?  I still failed.  I still disappointed.  I'm 40 yrs old and still a disappointment. 

And that encounter confirmed that it will always be that way.  At that point, I decided to stop trying.  Stop trying to please, stop making decisions based on hope of approval ( I actually started that process long ago, but this confirmed my decision).  I have to be my own person, follow my (and the wife and kid's) goals.  Parent based on what I know is right, not on what I think they would approve of. 

I still have a lot of dreams and goals and ambitions, and anyone who holds me back will not be a part of the action.  But if anyone wants to cheer me on, hand me a bottle, and ring life's cowbell,  bring it on because I will be doing the same for you!!


Final note:  I don't write this out of anger, bitterness or contempt.  In fact,  I don't remember ever feeling this peaceful in my entire life.  I woke up just this morning, realizing that there is an emptiness where the angst used to be.   I'm planning on filling that emptiness with joy,  it should not take long.   I don't write this to tear down or show disrespect to the parents in any way. 

I do write this to share my story with the hopes that my experience will help you grow strong and believe in yourself.  Stand up for yourself, live for yourself and experience the peace that I am experiencing. 

Let's do this together!!

TEXAS

Texas.   The dog I have had for around 12 yrs.  I surprised Rhonda with him while we were living in Shelby NC.  I drove to the Humane Society of Charlotte, and this little ball of fur stuck out.  10 weeks old and full of energy.  He loved to chase things.

He joined us on Cycle NC,  where one over enthusiastic rider fed him a Clif bar. He only about 1 yr old.

Texas joined us on my Ride Across America in 2001.  He cracked us up with his antics,  flipping his water bowl at our campsites and pushing it around, yapping at it like it was alive.

He made multiple trips to Roanoke to visit the in laws, and several trips to Charlotte to visit people there.

The dog loved to swim and would stick his head underwater to retrieve rocks thrown for him.  He loves the snow,  loves to catch snowballs.

The squirrels, rabbits and birds in our backyard fear him.

He killed our baby chickens once,  he didn't mean to, he was just doing what he does, chasing stuff.
He is a hiker,  walking companion for the wife, backyard buddy for the kid.

He is an old dog with lots of memories shared with our family.

We hope you come home, Texas.

UPDATE:   I just checked Craigslist and a neighbor 1/2 mile down the road found him!   Thank God!

More Wobblenaught

Friday afternoon, I hit the road for Atlanta to visit Eddie again.  After some for adjustments, thanks to Suspension Experts,  I needed to get the race bike dialed in.  I also killed two birds with one stone so to speak, and took my Siren, John Henry,  my dedicated bikepacking bike to get the fit as well. 

It turned out to be a 10 hour trip: just over 7 hours of driving, but totally worth the effort and the money.  Do it, you won't be disappointed.

Saturday, I woke up pretty tired and stiff, and so headed out the door to ride the bakery loop.  I was a little early this time, but considering how many other events were happening, I decided to skip the group start and head out on my own,  going my own steady pace.   The day was awesome, sunshine and big puffy rainfilled clouds.  It didn't rain, just looked like it might. 

 I pedaled through the country side, enjoying the ride, and the time alone.  I don't mind riding alone.  I like to ride with groups and/or individuals, but a lot of the time, this is my time, before heading back home to chase the kid around the yard, and answer to "Daddy" hundreds of times in mere minutes.

 I am fortunate to live in such an awesome place, with awesome friends.  Most of my friends, I would consider family,  each of them helping me deal with my past in their own special way.  So many things that I don't take for granted.

And then a stop as ZUMA in Marshall for a double espresso, 2 peanut butter cookies and a Coke for the way home.  Those cookies are the best energy food.  They hit the spot every time.  Soft and chewy....and buttery,  chased by some great coffee.... boom!  

The ride back into the head wind was better than I expected,  I just put my head down and pedaled away, focusing on pedal stroke and thinking through life stuff.