With an upcoming short lull in bike racing action I had decided a few weeks back to make good use of my time and book a flight to see friends in North Carolina. Faithful readers may remember that in 2019 (and, earlier, in 2012) I had flown east to see Miles and Judy in the Franklin area. We'd been in lose yet continuous contact since the onset of the pandemic, and with all three of us vaccinated and double-boosted nothing stood in the way for a trip to the Smoky Mountains.
A quick read of my 2019 blog entry reminded me that that trip had been the inaugural journey for my Ritchey Outback, and once again I took the carbon gravel bike to NC. Just for grins I should sometime tally up the number of flights that the Ritchey's case has already endured; some wear and tear is noticeable, but so far we're doing OK. I arrived on a Saturday afternoon, and once I had collected my luggage I was greeted by Judy and Miles outside of the Asheville airport. From there it's just about a 75-minute drive back to their house on Mill Creek Road. On the way I saw something that we haven't seen in Lubbock in months: rain. Yes, rain.
Miles had planned an ambitious ride for Sunday and with clearing skies we took off, he on his Trek eBike (which I hadn't seen yet) and I on the Ritchey; other ride invitees had flaked out. Macon County hasn't changed one bit since my last visit: It's either up or down with almost no flat ground. For some reason Miles felt compelled to show me almost every available climb in the immediate golf course neighborhood, not only taxing my stamina but also dealing a severe blow to his endurance. So, once we were finally on the road proper and about 9 miles into the ride, Miles unceremoniously announced that he was about to crater. Well, friends don't leave octogenarian friends out on the road just so
they can complete
their ride, and so we both turned around and safely (and slowly) rode back to
la casa where Judy already was working on bringing Happy Hour to life. Okay, 21 miles is always better than no miles, and there was always the next day.
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| Miles practicing safe riding with an upcoming blind turn ... |
The plan for Monday was to load the bikes and meet up with a set of friends to ride the Burningtown loop, one of Miles' and Judy's favorite rides. Judy and their neighbors Jane and Dave were on conventional bikes while Miles and Alex, a relative newcomer to the neighborhood, were on their eBikes. The weather was so-so, but at least it didn't rain. Despite trying really hard I kept riding away from the group, except from Alex who uses a throttle-actuated no-name import that would be at home under a Chinese food delivery person in Lower Manhattan. At one of the forks in the road we both stopped to wait for the other four to catch up as neither one of us knew whether to go right or left. Alas, none of the others showed up. Alex decided to turn around and look for them while I opted to ride on in the general direction of Franklin, Mill Creek, and eventually the house—navigating with Locus meant I wouldn't get lost.
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| Judy, Jane, and Dave all wishing they had eBikes |
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| Edgar Allan Poe's House of Usher, shortly before its fall |
Unfortunately, when I had earlier taken a nature break my bike had slipped and fallen onto the drivetrain side, snapping my rear derailleur's B adjustment screw, something that took me a while to diagnose. The result was that I had only four fully functioning gears, making climbing the steep sections of the narrow country roads rather difficult. So, when Miles and Judy unexpectedly passed me in their truck on the way home (Miles' eBike battery had mysteriously stopped working and he had had to abandon his ride after just a few miles) I flagged them down. After only 14 miles it was once again time for Happy Hour on the covered porch.
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| Tabletop s'mores ... |
Thinking of this trip, Happy Hour was a fairly integral part of our routine. A couple of six-packs of local IPAs and numerous bottles of wine slowly evaporated over the course of the week, accompanied by various cheeses and other goodies, such as sinful tabletop s'mores. Sitting on the porch and overlooking the golf course, enjoying the warmth of the gas fireplace and the occasional sunshine, talking about trips and adventures past and future, getting filled in on personal matters—all that was really more important than how many miles we logged.
On Tuesday we drove back to Asheville to drop off Miles' Trek at the dealership, and I was able to find a screw for my derailleur to fix the shifting. It was a rainy day, and we stopped by a brewpub in Cherokee for lunch. Miles checked out another bike shop to get educated on dropper posts and how such a part might make his mounting and dismounting the bike a bit easier, and then we were back in Franklin for another round of socializing, drinks in hand. We were joined by Jane and Dave, who the next day invited us over for
hors d'oeuvres at their home.
On Wednesday, my bike repaired but Miles' steed still in Asheville with the dealer, I went out for what would become my longest ride of the trip. It was a beautiful 31-mile loop on narrow mountain roads with little traffic but much scenery. The sun peeked through, and only one dog threatened to run into my front wheel. I got a good look at all those single- and double-wide mobile homes that are centerpiece of many an estate in North Carolina. Confederate flags and the occasional Trumpian message reminded me to not trespass or look and behave in a way that might betray my liberal bent. Great ride!
Late that afternoon, the two couples and I piled into Dave and Jane's SUV and we drove to Sylva, next to Dillsboro, to celebrate Dave's birthday in an excellent seafood restaurant. The oysters on the half-shell were amazingly fresh and tasty, the local beer was clean and cold, and our conversation was animated and happy. Thank you for including me!
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| Some of Jane's handmade quilts |
Thursday started out with more rain, so I decided to clean my bike and pack it up for my departure for Asheville the next day. It is truly remarkable how the weather can sense when a bike is irrevocably packed so that another ride is not a viable option. No biggie: I helped Miles with a small neighborhood irrigation project that he has taken on, and he took me on a golf cart tour of the greater Mill Creek community, telling me the individual stories of what seemed like half its denizens.
Friday came and shortly after noon we loaded my stuff into Judy's car and were off to Asheville, not only to pick up Miles' bike but also to drop me off in nearby Fletcher where the younger set of my North Carolina family lives. Justin and Morgan—together with their adorable closing-in-on-two-years son, Landon—live just five minutes from the AVL airport, and we had hatched the plan for me to stay with them for a night before my flight home. Justin, who was to fly out 24 hours after my departure to referee a World Championship race in Argentina, welcomed me to their comfortable home and it was time to say my farewells to Judy and Miles and see them off.
While we waited for Morgan to make it home from work (Justin works remotely from home for Colorado-based USA Cycling) I first got to meet numerous of Landon's favorite toys before we headed over to nearby Blue Ghost Brewing for a happy hour quaff. Justin and I had a lot of catching up to do since we hadn't seen each other since last year's Mountain Bike Nationals in Winter Park, CO.
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| No, this is NOT Morgan! |
Morgan eventually showed up and we decided to drive the few miles to downtown Asheville for dinner. It was such an enjoyable evening with this young family whom I am privileged to call my friends. After our pizza at PIE.ZAA we stopped by two more brewpubs, Burial and Green Man. Young Landon is definitely getting a good education!
Before my departure Saturday afternoon all four of us spent a bit of time in the local park where Landon showed off his playground skills while his parents made sure he stayed within safe limits. It was a fitting end to my trip to North Carolina that allowed me to spend quality time with dear friends who, regardless of age, have a very special meaning for me. Thank you for being such wonderful hosts!
The plan for Monday was to load the bikes and meet up with a set of friends to ride the Burningtown loop, one of Miles' and Judy's favorite rides. Judy and their neighbors Jane and Dave were on conventional bikes while Miles and Alex, a relative newcomer to the neighborhood, were on their eBikes. The weather was so-so, but at least it didn't rain. Despite trying really hard I kept riding away from the group, except from Alex who uses a throttle-actuated no-name import that would be at home under a Chinese food delivery person in Lower Manhattan. At one of the forks in the road we both stopped to wait for the other four to catch up as neither one of us knew whether to go right or left. Alas, none of the others showed up. Alex decided to turn around and look for them while I opted to ride on in the general direction of Franklin, Mill Creek, and eventually the house—navigating with Locus meant I wouldn't get lost.
