4/12/2018: Sorry I've been out of the loop recently. I had a nasty spill in NC and will make the next post about the wreck/recovery. This post that follows will be the scooter trip up to the wreck.
Heading out of Alabama into Georgia was a trip down memory lane. The route chosen roughly followed my 2015 cycling trip along Hwy 276 and the Chief Ladiga Trail. Intending to camp in the Talladega National Forest off a quiet fire road, I found myself there at the early hour of 3PM. Warm breezes were blowing and the sun shining so it was easy to keep pressing on. A campsite along the Silver Comet Trail known as Comet Camp was my new spot for the night. The rolling foothills of the Appalachian Mountains offered high speed 48 mph cruising downhill and slowing to the teens climbing the steep valleys. Soon reaching the Comet Camp, I found a beautiful site a short walk, or scoote ride, down the paved bike trail. Updating the journal by the pond formed by the railroad across a swampland, I reflected on the scenic drive and colors of the fading day. In the distance the sound of Hwy 278 and the heavy trucks rumbled on to somewhere else. A few touring cyclists showed up and I realized that this cycling camp should be theirs tonight, not mine. I'll keep on scooting with nowhere in mind to camp now. Off I rode into the dusky sunset, comforted by the brief warmth and knowing darkness would soon bring the cold. Continuing on into the darkness on 55mph back roads, I rode another 40 miles until reaching a state gameland which allowed camping. The stars sparkled in the sky but the fog in the field was quickly collecting on my jacket, helmet and gear. About a quarter mile away in a clearing, rednecks gunned their V-8 trucks through mud puddles, the thump of heavy bass carries through the barren oak woods while the acrid scent of of burning plastic drifts up.
In the morning after coffee and a short walk around the field, I set off east ahead of an approaching storm front. With three days of solid rain and wind forecast, I better find a solid shelter to sit it out. The Dawson State Forest is an Atlanta City forest managed for recreation along the Etowah River. The 70 degree day and light winds carried the scent of dry pine needles through the awakening vernal forest. By 1pm, the storm front was visible in the sky as a dark line as trees in that direction waved in the gusting winds. On my left while heading down a steep hill to the river was the overhanging dark entrance to a cave. A short walking trail led down to the creek and I parked the bike and went exploring just as the rain began to fall. Seeking shelter in the cave, I set up my tent and smiled at the serendipity of it all. After a brief inspection for other inhabitants, I felt relaxed and comforted knowing I'd have a dry place to read and spectate for a few days
Inviting, no?
Yabba-Dabba-Doo! Cave-Sweet-Home
On the third day, the rain lessened and by noon it had grown 20 degrees cooler into the lower 40's. It was as if winter decided to make a return. A check of the weather map showed the low pressure system and cool northern bands of blue sinking to the deep south. Winds were gusty but the sky turned blue while I stopped through the day to warm my fingers with cups of coffee. The one saving grace was the tailwinds helped me along and returned 120mpg from the little engine that could.
By nightfall, I found myself nearing Taccoa, GA. A sign for Camp Toccoa - Currahee Mountain made me google the name and found that it was the WW-II training site for many paratroopers. The HBO show Band of Brothers was set here and I have fond memories of watching that show with Dad as a youngster. Turning off the forest road, I barely make it up the loose climb up steep leaves. The oak forest crunches beneath my feet, the top layer dry yet underneath still soggy from days of rain. The scurry of squirrels unearthing acorns and swift breezes of changing season makes it feel like fall.
By nightfall, I found myself nearing Taccoa, GA. A sign for Camp Toccoa - Currahee Mountain made me google the name and found that it was the WW-II training site for many paratroopers. The HBO show Band of Brothers was set here and I have fond memories of watching that show with Dad as a youngster. Turning off the forest road, I barely make it up the loose climb up steep leaves. The oak forest crunches beneath my feet, the top layer dry yet underneath still soggy from days of rain. The scurry of squirrels unearthing acorns and swift breezes of changing season makes it feel like fall.
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The following day after a pleasant but chilly ride through Upstate SC, I reach the Lake Joccassee gorges and wildlife management area. The place is dead on the weekday, my tracks the only vehicle down this dead-end road in a long time. Up on a cleared knoll with a view of the Hanging Rock, I set up my tent and read for the remainder of the afternoon out of the high winds. Gusts nearly blew me off the hill overnight with nearby towns registering 50+mph winds. The nice thing about camping in an open field is the lack of widow-makers.
My beautiful Aunt Eileen lives near Spartanburg, SC so I stopped in to visit for a few days. The weather was breezy and cold so I was quite happy to relax and enjoy her company beside the fireplace. Her fresh salads and healthy lifestyle was easy to match and when the days cleared, made a trip to the nearby Campbell Covered Bridge (c.1909). Before leaving, she loaded me up on homemade organic oatmeal raisin cookies. I promised to share some with my little brother.
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The peach orchards were in full bloom through Gafney (home of the peach water tower) and Chesnee.
 | While taking a break in the town park of Chesnee, an older woman approached and handed me a bag. Somewhat shocked, I took it and she set down a drink and church flyer beside me. "You look like you're traveling. The good Lord told me you could use a bite to eat so here you are. Have a blessed day." With that she accepted my thanks, turned around, got in her champagne-colored Buick and drove away. I waved and she smiled and waved back, both of us curiously impacted by the whole event. Welcome back to the south :D |
St. Patrick's Day in Charlotte, NC
It was a non-eventful ride from Spartanburg to Charlotte on a combination of country roads and 4-lane highways. The warmer spring weather and sunny sky made it a breeze, sublime to be scooting through these familiar landscapes, smells and sights again. St. Patrick's day celebrations over the weekend were fun as we rode the light rail to some local breweries where all the similarly dressed Millenials got drunk on overpriced booze. Ah the joys of being young.
On my way out of town the following day, I met up with the Making Slow Look Fast Scooter club at the Landmark Diner for brunch. There were many different makes and models of scooters there from my touring rig down to Jay Moorman's two stroke Spree tuned for speed. He let me ride that lightweight high-revving two stroke and it was pure bliss once it got on the pipe. A special thanks to Rick Cutchin for inspiring the event and getting everyone together.
On my way out of town the following day, I met up with the Making Slow Look Fast Scooter club at the Landmark Diner for brunch. There were many different makes and models of scooters there from my touring rig down to Jay Moorman's two stroke Spree tuned for speed. He let me ride that lightweight high-revving two stroke and it was pure bliss once it got on the pipe. A special thanks to Rick Cutchin for inspiring the event and getting everyone together.
 Joshua Pace's Custom Kickstand |  |
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