Feelin' Zen

The last time I was on the internet, I had noticed on my Facebook page, that a friend of mine was planning to go camp at Kickstand Lodge in Stecoah, NC (about 2 hours away). I hadn’t seen them for a long time and we have been trying to get together for a while.

The fact that I noticed it is odd. Being that I no longer have the ‘net at home I only see the top few posts. I don’t have the time to scroll through to try and get caught up. It just so happened that he had recently posted and was one of those that were visible.

I got home and asked Melissa what she had going for this Friday night and for Saturday. I figured if she was available, I would go down there, spend the night Friday, ride with them some on Saturday, and then head home that evening. It turns out that she was free and I got the green light.

I have been rather irritable lately -- to the point of nit-picking and starting arguments – over nothing! I needed some saddle time! It’s been well over a month since my last real ride. I don’t count taking the bike on my recent hiking excursion.

It had come a downpour earlier in the day. We had hail here at the house. I was out in the garage playing and the pounding of the rain on the roof drowned out all other sounds.

By the time I left 4 hours later, it had moved on enough that I wouldn’t encounter it on the bike. However, the roads were still wet and clouds were sifting in between the mountains. Maybe the Cherokee were sending up smoke signals for me (just for you Mom).     ;  )

I had been by Kickstand Lodge before, but couldn’t remember exactly where it was. As I was going up the road, I nearly passed by it. As I slowed down to make the turn into the driveway, I accidentally bumped the horn button. It was only 9 PM, but way to make an entrance, Ed!

There was much activity in the center pavilion as they were still cooking up food for their guests. Mo, the lady that runs the place, came over and asked if I had eaten yet. I told her that I had and just needed a campsite and wanted to settle up with her. She told me that to catch up with her tomorrow, or I could just put the money in the jar if I left before they opened up the office.

By this time, Kim had noticed I was there and she showed me where they had pitched their tent and told me they didn’t bring the Harley, but they had the “new bike”. New bike? Apparently, Scott had just picked up an 80’s vintage Aspencade.  Anyway, I got setup and we drank a few beers and hung out until near midnight.

The campground has a bubbling brook that encircles the property. They have the camping sites setup right next to this creek. Between the crickets singin’ and the water flowin’, it was rather easy to drift off to sleep. I woke up well-rested.

Scott and Kim were not stirring yet. Oddly, my tent had no morning dew on it, so I decided to pack up my gear. I figured that way I would be ready to go whenever they were. Scott’s morning ritual seems to be to suck down two pots of coffee and then take a shower.

We had kickstands up at about 10:30. Kim needed another memory card for her DSLR and I needed to top off with fuel. We headed over to Robbinsville to get that done and then were off for Fontana Dam.

Scott is fascinated with Fontana. It is the largest dam in the TVA system. I let Scott lead because I wasn’t sure which dam was Fontana.

Scott on his new-to-him Goldwing led a sniffin’-the-flowers pace as he got acquainted with the bike. Kim likes to play with her Canon. She was constantly taking pictures while on the bike.

The dam was a short run of about 30 miles up NC-28. 28 is a beautiful little twisty that meanders through the wooded, mountainous terrain.

By the time we got there, Kim told me that she already had taken about 150 pictures of me riding behind them – many of which were “pretty shots of asphalt”. She would point the camera, click, look at the screen, adjust, rinse, and repeat. Heh! she made need to purchase another card before the day is done.

I can see why Scott is taken with Fontana. It *is* impressive. We spent about 45 minutes milling around and taking pictures.

A couple jetskiers out enjoying the day

Looking down the dam to the powerhouse (that's a 480' drop)

The spillway

I had suggested a loop of some good twisties that would take up most of the day. They seemed to like the route, so that was the plan once we left the dam. The road leaving the dam started climbing and is full of 15-20 mph switchbacks and I quickly dove around Scott to take a little more aggressive pace. I DO love that stretch of road!

Once you cross the mountain, the road winds and wends along the banks of a river. A beautiful and fun run it is.

28 takes you to US129 and Scott had no interest in fighting that Goldwing on the Dragon while dealing with all the squids and law that were likely to be there. When we got to the store, it sure was crowded, so quite likely a good decision.

We turned south and pointed the bikes towards the Cherahola Skyway. I realized it was nearly 1 by now, so asked if they wanted to get lunch before we hit the Skyway (since it would be about 2 before we saw another place to eat).

They did and Scott insisted on buying my lunch. What a guy! We found a nice little sit-down diner and enjoyed each other’s company and some good food.

Then it was off to the Skyway. GOD! I LOVE THAT ROAD!!  LOVE, LOVE, LOVE IT! It is by FAR my favorite that I have ever ridden!

Again, I took the helm and enjoyed a spirited pace. I was feelin’ it! I was hitting the marks and was just smooth as glass. I love it when you are one with the bike.

By the time we hit the highest point of the road (near Hooper Bald), the clouds were not only present, but ominous. I thought for sure we would be rained on. However, it never happened, and once we descended a couple thousand feet, there no longer were any clouds that showed any signs of rain.

When we pulled into Tellico, we decided to stop at Hunt’s Lodge to see if Jack and Lori were around. It turns out they were at a concert, but Jessica (Jack’s daughter) and Jason (her husband) were there.

Heh! poor Jason was in bad shape from the night before. He looked rough! I have been there, he had my sympathy. We hung out for about 45 minutes and then decided to abort the rest of the route as it was already 4:30-ish.

This meant going back across the Skyway again. What torture! We stopped at an overlook and Kim and I spent more time with our cameras.

The happy couple

Back on the road and more zoom! zoom! Did I mention I love this road?

I caught up to a couple of Harleys and instead of just blowing by them as I normally would have done, I stopped at an overlook and waited for a short bit for Scott and Kim to arrive. By the time they showed up we were near the bottom of the hill before catching up to those poorly powered, unbaffled noisemakers again.

I had decided that at the first good passing zone that we both could get by, it was “go” time. I found it and nailed the throttle. I am guessing Scott did the same as he was right on my tail.

However, there was a curve coming up. I was at 90 mph and I *may* have been able to cut the bike into the turn coming up, but decided to knock off some speed. I got down to a comfortable 60 mph before entry.

Scott later informed me that he had bottomed out in that corner. He told me that prior to entry all he could smell was brake dust as he was rather hard on the brakes. He didn’t know what hit, but a quick inspection showed that his exhaust hit (before ANYthing else did – not good!).

Scott had never come into Kickstand from the north, so we decided to retrace our steps, so to speak. We headed back down 28 to the campground (where I left my gear so I wouldn’t have the extra weight on the bike while “playing”) – besides I still needed to settle up with Mo.

This is something I have never done before. I *never*, *ever* run the same route both ways. However, the route was good enough to justify rerunning it. 

Besides, there were menacing black clouds to the east and if we took a more direct path we would be heading right into that. Maybe if we went northeast, then cut back southeast, (the reverse of our earlier route) we could get out in front of it and avoid that mess.

We got to the campground around 7 PM. I packed my gear on the bike, settled with Mrs. Mo (who again asked if I had eaten), said my good-byes, and was on the road by 7:30. Those dark clouds we had avoided earlier were now menacingly approaching. I was staring at the sky trying to figure what would be the best way to go to avoid that mess.

I finally decided to say the hell with it. If I get caught up in it, I get wet, and pointed my wheel right to them clouds. Besides, there have been NO clouds all day long, so once I get past this cell, it should be fine.

I headed back up 28 (for the third time today) and in attack mode again. Ten minutes after departure, I was back in blue skies carving the road and never saw a drop of rain.

Twenty minutes after that, I was at the Tail of the Dragon. Since, I was in good rhythm, had seen little traffic all day long, and the fact it was a bit “late”, I decided to check the clock – 7:58. I figured I would time myself (in case I had a free run) just to see how long it took me to run that 11 miles. I have never done this before.

Just as I pulled onto 129, a corvette jumped out of the parking lot in front of me. [sigh] I am now going to have to find some point to get by this idiot.

Notsomuch! He took off, chirped tires in the first three gears, whipped it around the first corner, then the second, and was …. GONE!!

I never saw him again until I got to the overlook. So much for my ego, it was almost embarrassing – especially since I was “on”. That boy sure could work that ‘vette!

I had no traffic to contend with until I got to the north end (close to the overlook) when I came upon a pickup truck. I followed a few turns, but it was obvious he was trying to get me to go by. When I found a sight line, I obliged and whipped around him. Despite a ½ mile? delay, I hit the overlook at 8:02. EVERYTIME I glanced at the speedometer, I was doing 35-42 mph. 

The rest of the run was just “chomping miles” to get to the house. I logged nearly 500 miles and came home *smilin’*! I sooo needed that. 

... and Then There Were Three ... or Two and a Half??

So a long, long time ago my sister asked me to turn her four salad bowls. I would say “once upon a time…” but that would imply a happy ending. The main reason I haven’t gotten to it is because I haven’t had the material.

I harvested some cut limbs the city cut back prior to winter over a year ago but it hasn’t been “ready”. I have turned a few pieces, but they always crack. I turned a lamp base a few weeks ago and so far it hasn’t cracked, so I figured I would try to turn the bowls she requested.

The main thing I was wanting is to have bowls that were close in shape and size and from the same piece of wood – that way they would all look the same. She has two kids and I figured some uniformity would help mitigate arguing. Maybe not, but I’m at least making an effort.  ; )

So I started in on a piece that I cut large enough to accommodate four bowls. I never have a plan in mind when I start turning. I usually let the wood dictate how it will end up. I try to accent features of the wood and you never know where they are until you start turning it.

By the time I had the first pair turned, they were an odd shape for salad bowls. They looked more like saki cups or ice cream bowls, but that’s just how it worked out.

Despite the odd shape, I had the first two, so I had my approximate expected diameter to match the others to. I arranged them so that the bowl mouth was lined up with the next bowl mouth. That way, you could actually set them opening to opening and see how they were originally oriented if you aligned the grain pattern(s) – besides it helps in achieving equal diameter between the two that are joined that way.

The second two wound up being just a little bit smaller (maybe ¼”), but I wasn’t going to change the first two and then chase the other pair once I had turned the first couple too small, etc., etc. So, I accepted them being a little off.

I left it alone for a few days to see if any cracking occurred. I have learned not to invest too much time into a piece only to watch it crack.

.

I have lost a few pieces that I was so happy with, but then it started cracking and that was a bit of a downer. So, my method now is turn it, let it “rest”, and see if it has a chance to make it before proceeding any further.

A few days later and it is still intact. I took it to the bandsaw and cut it into four separate pieces so I could hollow them out.

On the very first one, I screwed up. I was hollowing it out and my tool just knicked the edge of the bowl. At that speed  … CRACK! THUD!

The first sound was the piece cracking. The second was the sound the broken piece made as it hit the wall behind the lathe. (sigh!)

Well, I grabbed the piece and it was still all one piece – it didn’t shatter upon smacking the wall – and figured I had nothing to lose now and glued it back on. Gorilla Wood Glue is the shit!

I figured for sure it would blow out again as soon as I put the chisel to it. Nope! once cured it held! The crack is noticeable but it won’t leak. Anyway, I finished hollowing it out and sanded it, the best I could.

The second piece went much smoother and I had no issues with it. There are wormholes in the wood and there is a “gap” in the outside edge where one was. If I tried to take it any thinner, it would likely crack as the wall was pretty thin, so that piece already has “character” to it.   ; )

The third bowl also blew out as I had cut the wall too thin. This one was irreparable, though. (double sigh!)

On the fourth I was doing fine, until I found a knot in the wood and while hollowing it got weakened and now the bowl has a hole in it. That won’t do! I trimmed it out but now it’s much too short to be used like the other two, so I guess I need to find another piece of wood and start all over again.

So I started with four very similar pieces. Then I lost one of each "paired" up diameter. So now it's two that look somewhat similar but different in size and one that doesn't resemble either. "One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just don't belong ......"   HAHA

So here is what is "left" ....

Who knows? It may be a long, long time until she gets her four bowls. Meh! she’s waited this long I guess, what’s a little longer? 

I left this (Saturday) morning with the intent of getting a ride in. I had stared at the map and really had no intended plan. I figured I would find out as I went along.

Before I even got to the gas station (less than two miles from the house), I had decided that I wasn’t “feeling it”. It’s not that I was “off in the curves” or missing my marks or anything, but just that, for whatever reason, I just wasn’t into it. I figured it best to forego riding for the day.

However, I didn’t want to go back to the house just yet. I decided that maybe a hike and some camera time would be just the ticket.

Megan, my mom, and I were supposed to go hike last weekend, but we had Mom’s dog and pets are not allowed on hiking trails. So, since we didn’t go last week, I decided I would today.

Ramsay Cascades is one I have wanted to hike it for years but just never have gotten to it. It is in (well, outside of) Gatlinburg, which is only a half hour away, so that seemed perfect. The pictures I have seen of the cascade are rather impressive.

I pointed the bike south and head down to Gatlinburg and try to find Roaring Fork Motor Trail. I had been on this before, but it’s been years. It took me a little bit, but I found it.

Roaring Fork Motor Trail is a one-way loop. There are a few places to hike along its path. I had it stuck in my head that Ramsay Cascades was one of these. As I was going along there was a roadside cascade and I figured this would be time to bump some rust off my photography “skills”.

I took some pics and then took some more, and more. Many were overexposed, but that is the beauty of digital cameras. I took over 125 pictures for the day – about 40 of them had to be deleted, but that was because I kept playing with the exposures to try and get a good picture with the effect I was wanting. You *expect* to lose some when doing that.

 Here are some of the “keepers” of the roadside cascade ….

 

I reached the end of Roaring Fork and never saw a trailhead for Ramsay Cascades, so I stopped at a store and asked where it was. I got the information I needed and pointed the bike to it. Luckily, it was only six miles up the road.

By the time I got to the trailhead, it was about 1 PM – plenty of daylight remaining to get this hike in. It was 4 miles to the cascades (and, of course, 4 miles back). It’s been months since I have been hiking, and, even though, I have lost weight, I am far from “in shape”. This will be interesting.

The trail was rather navigable and fairly easy with no drastic changes in elevation. So, a nice easy walk it was. I have heard this is a difficult trail. So far there was no indication why.

I am strolling along pretty well and come across this pretty little girl.

She was quite interested in the vegetation there, and I let her have her fill without interrupting her. I watched her for about 10 minutes, I think, before she wandered off into the woods.

Then about a mile and a half into the trek, the rock and gravel trail gave way to roots and mud, and there became more of a noticeable incline. I knew it couldn’t stay “easy” forever. ; ) Still, it wasn’t too bad.

I spotted this hollow tree that looks Holloween-ish and had to take a pic …

see? it;s hOllOw!

Then, all of a sudden the trail started going down. The river is getting louder now and soon I came to this bridge.

It was interesting crossing it. The wisdom of crossing a span is not to look down. Well I wanted to make sure I placed my feet on the bridge so I was looking down. As I got out to the middle, I got a vertigo-type sensation, because the water below is moving and the bridge, of course, is not.

Now back to gaining altitude again. Rock steps, Root structures, and mud. The terrain is quite a bit more difficult to navigate now, as well as the elevation gain. Then it dropped again and *another* crossing of the river. WTH?!?

Who designed this trail? You started out with some elevation, drop down to cross the river, rise again, drop back down to RECROSS the same damned river only to have to CLIMB back up to again. Yeesh!

Along the trail, I came across this old guy

That tree has been there for *many* years. There were two more within 30’ of it that were nearly as big.

My legs are feeling like I am lifting lead by now. It’s hot, and I am drenched in sweat. My legs are tired. I am spent!

I half entertained turning around and going back. I certainly was questioning the decision to do an eight mile hike. However, at this point I was too far into it to just turn around, so I kept pushing lead. It seemed that every time you get to a “clearing” all you see is more steps to climb. Does this ever end?
Diversions were welcomed
and I sat down a few times as well. Sometimes, I would just stand still and listen to the sound of the woods. You could hear the rush of the river and over there the sound of a bird singing.

There were no signs of human life. It’s not often you get to experience that these days.

During one of those breaks, a family was coming down the trail. The father asked how I was, and without reservation I told him I was tired. As they wandered off, he told me that the top was just another 40 minutes away.

FORTY?!? UGH! I am not so sure I needed to hear that!

Shortly after that I came across another hollowed out tree. This one was a carcass though and another welcomed diversion with the camera ensued.

 More climbing and grumbling followed. Then finally, I spied the Cascades through the trees. I was soo happy to see that.

I was wore out! This meant I could finally sit down for a bit.
What a beautiful place. The hike was definitely worth it as the cascades were indeed impressive. I took some pictures and hung for a bit,

 

but then it was time to get going again. It had taken about three hours to hike four miles. The way back will be much easier, as it is mostly downhill, but it’s already 4 PM. I took a couple more pics on the way back,

but I kept moving most of the time.

My feet became progressively heavier with each step. It was almost a chore to walk.

I arrived back at the bike a little after 6. The hike back took an hour less as I wasn’t stopping as frequently.

It was a lengthy and strenuous hike, but it was well worth it!

What's in a number?

What’s in a number indeed! It’s odd. (Excuse me while I gloat a bit)
Many moons ago, when I was in high school, my waist size was a 28” with a 30” inseam. Heh! At 6’0” I was a toothpick – a good wind would blow me away! In school I weighed in at 140-150 lbs. (WET!) – and that’s probably a bit generous.

As is with many over the course of years, the waist size had gotten away from me …. BADLY! I was up to a 38” waistband, and …. LOOKED the part!

Fifteen months ago, I decided it was time for a lifestyle change. I dropped the sugary drinks (pop, my beloved southern-style sweet tea – you know a little tea with my sugar, late night snacking, and overall bad choices; not that I eat all that healthy now (you will never see Ed do tofu, etc.), just that I don’t eat unhealthily)

No doctor predicated nor predicted that I needed to do this. I just knew I was unhappy with that Goodyear around my waist and it was time to fix it.

Fast forward to present. I am now (after today’s weigh-in) exactly 40 lbs. lighter than I was 15 months ago when I started to monitor the weight. I haven’t really “fought” to lose it – read as I don’t workout, etc. I have maintained some discilpline (yes, Virginia, I *am* capable of such things) in how I eat and typically I gain and lose, gain and lose. The fluctuations are typically less than two pounds one day to the next, so it’s slow going.
Today, for shits and giggles, I spied some old jeans I had stashed in the closet and decided to try them on. I haven't been able to wear them for about 4 years.

The last time I put on my “work jeans”, I walked out of them. Literally, they fell to my knees. When I’m working, I *hate* a belt. It’s constricting and does tend to weigh on my mind that it’s there (even if it’s not all that tight).

Something had to be done. Again, I tried on those jeans. They were size 32” X 30”.

I’ll be damned! They fit! I was ready to take a deep breath before buttoning. There was no need!

Holy Crap! Can you say tickled? Yep! I am happy.

A loss of two more inches in the waist and another 8 lbs. on the scale and I will be where I want to; but, then, what’s in a number? ; )

With Can't Be Without

Passing shadows
Wafting through the air
Going about their business
As if they didn't have a care.

Life is busy
We all have our pace
It's hard not to get caught up
In this and still save face.

Yet we all go on
As if the other world didn't exist
Oddly without shadow
Substance wouldn't subsist.

The Not-Brian Rendezvous

My friend Brian and I have been trying to get together and ride some for a couple months now. Heh! We figured that now he had moved to GA, instead of where he was in LA, this would not be so difficult to coordinate. Alas, it has happened but once since he moved last year. Outisde of a short ride to town (to a bar --  so hardly a "ride") that we took while I visited him last fall and him visiting Hot Springs (about an hour from me) in December it's not much different than when he was living in bayou country.

He contacted me earlier last week suggesting that either this Tuesday or Wednesday would be good for him if I could make that happen. With the impending rain on the horizon, Tuesday seemed the better call. Tuesday was only 80% chance of rain where he was and 30% for me. Wednesday, that chance would increase for both of us!

So Tuesday it is! We setup a time and place and were both anticipating seeing one another again. The time would be 11:30 AM and the place would be roughly the halfway point between us -- we picked Clayton, GA.

An 11:30 arrival would mean that I would need to leave by 9:30 if I took the boring way. However, if I left an hour earlier, I could run down NC-28 to GA-28 (read as fun and fun --- when dry) and avoid some slab/highway riding to hit some twisties. 8:30 isn't that early! done and DONE!

I got out the door and the bike on the road on time and head for the slab. The first two hours would be 2-4 lane highway riding. YAWN!

The low-lying clouds were sifting in between mountain ridges and valleys. It was pretty cool looking! I wanted to take a picture, but was more interested in ensuring I wouldn't be late, so kept moving -- not that *I* would ever be late or anything! nope! not me!

About 20 miles before I was to get off of I-40, I spied two cops sitting up ahead on the side of the road. Looked at the speedo 85 -- SHIT! The speed limit is 60. Well this one's going to sting!

However, I had *gradually* slowed to 65 by the time I went by them. I am not sure *what* they were looking for, but apparently either 25 over wasn't enough, they were too busy jabbering, didn't have their radar on, or .... something.

They never moved and I thankfully smiled to my guardian angel. I would wind up having to do this again a couple more times throughout the course of the day.

Oddly, within 5 miles, I saw two other vehicles actually pulled over by cops. I wondered what they had actually done. LOL

Alright, this blog is being interrupted for a moment to rant -- and to out myself for being a dumbass. I am taking the time to do this to serve as a reminder to my fellow riders out there that take the time to read my drivel.

[rant]

A moment's lapse of concentration can be costly!!

So I'm scootin' right along and there is little traffic at all. What traffic there is, is now behind me and the occasional glance in the mirrors shows no one is gaining. I am in the slow lane as, again, there is no traffic. A pickup truck approaches the upcoming intersection wanting to make a right turn (going the direction I was), so I pulled over into the left lane. I checked the mirrors .... all clear. I start to make the lane change.

Okay rider friends ... what didn't I do? Yep, I didn't glance over my shoulder to be sure.

I damn near ran into a car that was overtaking me. I*immediately* hear someone wailing on their horn. HOLY CRAP THAT WAS STUPID!! WHAT WAS I THINKING?!? just a moment's lapse!!! Obviously everything sorted out and I gave another Hail Mary/Mark to my guardian angel.

Never take anything for granted!

[/rant]

(sorry for that interruption, but if it helps anyone to think twice, I retract this apology -- this is getting monty-python-ish -- we apologize for the interruption. the one responsible for this has been sacked -- HAHAHA! I love those English lads (and Terry too))


Once I finally got off the slab/highway, I am on NC-28/US 64. I have the road to myself and am ready to get some lean time. One of the first turns I came to, I had good throttle/gearing management and was in full lean mode and, as I powered out, the rear let loose on me. No big deal, this has happened so many times over the years my heart rarely misses a beat anymore.

However, following the rear's lead, the front washed a bit as well. I am now basically sliding sideways. I am just waiting for the bike to slide across the road (it was a right turn). Because of the two-wheel slide, *I* am obviously NOT in control. For whatever reason -- intuition, luck, divine intervention, all of the above? -- I did not slide across the road. Instead, I gained traction and was able to leave the corner in my own lane. Thanks again guardian angel!

(In retrospect, I think I *may* have crossed the "oil lane" as I apexed. I am not sure, but that is the only rationalization, I  can come to. Prior to today, I have not found the traction limits (even in the wet) on the Z6s -- LOVE that tire, it sticks like glue! While it *could* be that the tire couldn't handle the conditions, I am inclined to believe my stupidity is more to blame than my tires, but I don't really know)

The rest of the way to Clayton had me on pins and needles as all the roads were wet and my confidence is, well, lacking; some less damp than others, but traction consumed my thought process and I "babied" it the rest of the way along the fun roads I had planned on attacking. Hell! I may as well have slept in and just slabbed the *whole* way there.

I could have certainly slept in another half hour at least as I arrived at 11:00, instead of the planned 11:30. Dang! maybe I've gotten past the whole being late thing? NAH! .

Anyhow, I wait, and wait, ... and wait. I check the clock, it's now noon. No Brian, nor his buddy. Odd! Brian is not Ed. He typically is prompt. When he isn't on time, something has happened.

Okay, he is with a friend, I decide to wait, in case his buddy is more Ed-like than Brian-like. It's now 12:30, this is even past Ed-late! I've been gracious and tolerant. Now I have to be mindful of daylight riding hours.

I decide to give them until 1, because I just KNOW if I leave any earlier that I will have missed them by 5 minutes or something. Come 1 o'clock and they still haven't arrived.

The halibut! I decide to head out.

We were discussing grabbing lunch in Helen. I decide that since GA-197 leads me that way and it's been waaayyy too long since I strafed along it, I would go see if maybe they went there and misunderstood that we were supposed to meet in Clayton? Unlikely, but not out of the way and lots of fun, so what the heck?

At least the roads were dry now that the sun had come out and was a little higher off the horizon -- and 197 is nicely laid out crossing a mountain (tight stuff) and then running lakeside (sweeping turns). WOO HOO! the best of both!

I cruised through Helen and never did see them. Bummed that Brian and I have to wait until "next time", but a solo ride is still time OUT of the house and IN the saddle!

I headed north out of Helen and the original route was to take Richard B. Russell, but as I got to the turnoff and saw NO ONE in front of me, I decided to make a run over the mountain instead. GA-15/75 is an absolute hoot just north of Helen.,

Again, I'm cruising along, and speaking of cruisers, after a few turns, I approached a police cruiser. NO WAY am I following it up the hill!

I back off, but the officer is in no hurry. Knowing I have no one behind me, I feign being lost and point to my tank bag (like I'm looking at my map) as I pull into an empty parking lot. The ruse was to put distance between the cruiser and I.

After a couple minutes, I proceed towards the mountain. Apparently, I allowed enough time or else he/she turned off.

Either way it's ALL MINE! MINE! ... and that's how I treated.

Damn! I LOVE that stretch of road. WOOOSH WOOOSH WOOOSH and I am at the top all too quickly, but my lips are stretched from ear-to-ear as I grin. What fun!

At this point, I figured I would take GA-180 across Wolf Pen Gap (yeah with all the rain we have had, gravels should make this an all-too-interesting ride) to GA-60. From there I could pick up TN-68 to the Cherahola Skyway, the Dragon, and then home.

Oddly, as many times as I have taken 180 and as riddled with gravels as I typically find it *when* I do, it was devoid of them this time. I think there were only two corners I noticed gravels and was able to avoid them. Not a problem. .. . just (for me) an oddity! Oh and once again -- NO TRAFFIC!

Along the way, I saw a little roadside cascade. It looks to be man-made as the water falls over the rock, and since now time was of little consequence, I snapped a picture.

Other than the couple earlier faux pas' and missing Brian, this has been a great ride. There's been no traffic to contend with and I am nailing turns without hedging/lack of confidence issues. I am really feeling it -- I won't go as far as to say "one with the bike and the road" -- but damn close! I'll take it!

Okay cleared a "clear" 180 and onto 60. YAY! LOVE this stretch too! Great fun! Once again, no one to hinder me, and am maintaining a great rhythm to dance to! (cue the zoom! zoom! kid)

Once I was in TN 60 becomes 68. My favorite stretch is a long sequence of sweepers that go up and down a mountain. You can really pull on the throttle because you can "see" ALL through those turns so you can (safely) carry some good speed in them with little worry of a soccer mom/squidboy coming across into your lane, because you will see it in time to react.

Once again, free run. The three vehicles I did encounter on 68 either pull over or slow down and wave me by at a safe spot. Damn! I think I need to hit Vegas or Atlantic City -- NOW! This is uncanny!

The luck and rhythm continued on the Skyway as well. However, coming down the mountain the dry roads I had experienced the last 5 hours have now switched to wet/damp. I was *glad* to be stuck behind a pickup truck towing a trailer.

This is good, because it kept me in check and no more testing of the Z6's traction limits. I mean, really! I had *already* tested my guardian angel 3 times today!

Alas, (s)he soon pulled over. However, falling in with the Vegas/great ride scenario, it was only slightly before the roads dried again, so I was able to once again resume an aggressive pace.

I hit the Dragon, but I saw this scene as I crossed the bridge across from the dam where the scene from "The Fugitive" (the one with Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones) was filmed

SMOOOOOKE ON THE WAAATTEEERR 

The picture does not do it justice, as there was much more "smoke [fog] on the water". It almost looked like something out of a horror flick.

The first half of the dragon was once again (say it with me) EMPTY .... then I came upon a train of three Harleys. All day long, drivers and riders had been pulling over or motioning me by. Heaven forbid Harley-boy has the same respect. I tail these snails for a couple miles and concede to the end of my fun.

Then after a few miles and MANY pull-out opportunities later, two of them pull off but the lead DOG keeps on. Two turns later he motions me past and I once again resume my pace.

There is little to chronicle for the rest of the ride. I pulled in about 30 minutes before dark (about 11 1/2 hours after leaving the house) with 470-some miles on the odometer -- sore and smiling!

My shoulders are sore. My arse isn't accustomed to these long rides anymore and still has marks from the frame. Hmmm ... the Spencer seat is a *great* improvement but may not get me what I want. Either that or I am just not in riding shape -- considering the fact I am not riding as much as I used to, that is a good possibility. Time will tell!

Either way, I gladly accept this kind of soreness. It's almost the satisfaction I used to have from coming home from a hard day's work. Sore, but I *knew* I did something that day. Today I did something too (maybe I didn't make any money, but it was satisfying just the same)

Oh, by the way, after contacting Brian I learned that his buddy had tire issues and they had to stop at a dealer to get a new one. Apparently he had a slow leak in it and just decided to get a new one. By the time that was done it was too late to try and stage up.

Everything Zen?

Come 9:00 AM Saturday morning, I was supposed to meet Dan and the Country Roads Riding Group at Sugarlands Visitor Center just south of Gatlinburg, TN. That's a mere hour from me -- much better than the 8 AM meetup time in Walland, TN -- only to backtrack. .

So I set my alarm and am off-and-running with time to get me to where I needed to be by the set time. Being "Ed" I factored in a fudge-factor of 10 minutes late-time to get there. I managed to arrive at 8:57. SWEET! I am not "on time", but "early" even!

Well not so much! I waited, and waited .... and waited!

At the risk of ruining the suspense factor, I was supposed to be there at 8:45 AM, NOT 9! (didn't realize this until AFTER i got home and re-checked an email -- somehow I got 9 AM in my head, not quarter 'TIL nine! sucks, because I thought I was on time (FOR ONCE). In retrospect I find that rolled past just 7 minutes prior.

Dan always tend to leave a little bit late. The route he was taking is NOT conducive to making time, so with me arriving "early", the odds are in my favor that they haven't gone by yet -- that was my mindset anyway. Additionally, Little River Road is a great run in that it is curvy and scenic, but is ALWAYS crowded with slow moving vehicles. I have NEVER made time on that road ... EVER!

SOOO .... they should be around in a "bit". I wait ... and wait ... AND wait. Once I finally gave up, I decided to lube the chain on Cloud9 since she was about due  a bit of love. Then, I figure I will take the route Dan took and hope maybe? I can catch up.

This is highly unlikely since I have lost a LOT of time by now. I need to make up nearly 45 minutes I waited for them to show -- even though they passed -- yeah, not gonna happen!). However, they do stop and socialize a bit and they are planning eating lunch somewhere, so there's a chance. If I don't catch them, I can run MY pace .... win-win!

I like riding with Dan and his group. I am *NOT* into group riding anymore, but will make an exception here. Dan keeps a very rational (read as slow-for-me) pace, but the characters in the group ALWAYS make the experience worthwhile. I have NEVER had a bad time with ANY of them.

Nonetheless, I have maps, plenty of daylight, and gas -- let's go! The route he planned I would not have were I on my own. US 441 from Gatlinburg to Cherokee is a great run --- IF you can enjoy it without traffic. It's AGONIZING if you don't.

I already have a record (a warning for speeding) in that section of the national park, so am NOT in the mood to push. I fall in line with the tourists and am patient (heheh, those that know Ed know that "patience" and "Ed" should never be used in the same sentence without the qualifier "lack of", but I was trying). I followed a line of cars for a long time. Some were courteous enough to pull off and allow traffic to pass, others not.

We reached a  trailhead (for hiking) and there were a sh*tload of cars and all the parking areas were overflowing The lead vehicle wants (from brake lights and lethargic speed) to find a parking spot, resulting in a slow crawl. Well, we got past MANY  parking opportunities, and the driver is STILL moping at 15 mph.

It's a double yellow. My patience is ... EXHAUSTED. A quick twist of the happy handle and the situation is quickly resolved.

I am now enjoying the climb to Newfound Gap at my pace. Just prior to the peak I approached another line of cars. However, they weren't crawling (they were holding a comfortable 50 mph as opposed to the 15 mph when I did the DY earlier). Dare I say, I filed in line patiently (TWICE in the same ride? ... heresy!!) and followed them ALL the way (another 20 miles? down the hill) to Cherokee. Honestly, I did!

When the turnoff to the BRP, came only one of those vehicles turned where I was going. I guess my patience had worn thin again, and I quickly dispatched of the driver of the vehicle.

Heh! Shortly, thereafter I came across a park ranger. CRAP! I am cruising at a good clip! I am NOW diligently watching my rear view mirror. Luckily, he had no interest in me and we both kept happily rolling along in separate directions.

For the rest of the day I was "ON"! It was Zen-ish! Absolute MAGIC!

I hit EVERY curve for the next 150+ miles without reservation nor hesitation. While on the BRP, I found myself holding an average of 60-65 mph EVERYtime I looked ... sometimes even 75 mph (that was later in the ride as confidence built) .... I was ONE with the bike AND the road.

That's a special moment when it happens. I must confess it's the FIRST time I have been this comfortable on a bike since having to park Pearl (some may remember her as the blue 600 bandit I had many "miles of smiles" (quote from Tom Blum) on. I *really* was on.

So after the BRP I stopped in Asheville to pick up some high gravity brews that I cannot find here in NASCAR country ("we have BOTH kinds Bud AND Bud Light .... ugh!). After stocking up some, I know of a fun route from A-ville to home.

One of the roads along the way is NC-63. I have NEVER done 63 going this way -- AND it's been a LONG time since I have been on it at all.

There has been a LOT of rain lately, so am more concerned about rain and how it washed gravel into the roads from driveways than how the road itself has deteriorated over time. NC-DOT, in their infinite wisdom in ONE county along a delightful stretch of NC-63 decided to do the tar snake thing.

[rant -- WTF do these municipalities use tar snakes to limit casualties when they ONLY contribute to them? I am sure I am missing something!]

Later along the same road, but in another county, it was smooth without tar snakes (or traffic ... WOO HOO!). I am playing (almost) fearlessly and with a GREAT deal of confidence. I am still vigilant of gravels, but am nailing the corners ... consistently!

After 63 came an old friend in NC-209 and if I had any rhythm in the corners before, it was only solidified in these. 209 lends itself to smoothness and rhythm and I was all too happy to comply! I was sooo ON!

I stopped at a horseshoe bend I stopped at years ago which has a roadside creek and some cascades. It's serene. Some years back, I stopped here to play with the camera. When I went to Google the location I noticed something.

Curiosity really has bugged me since, as when I first tried to find where it was, I noticed that the creek went back into the mountains (on the terrain feature) and then .... disappeared. From the topo lines ... it looked to be a cave. Hmmm ... this demands further exploration!

Today, I had time as there was PLENTY of daylight left and I told Melissa to expect me about dark-thirty. So I hiked up the trail ... and up ... and up ... Yeesh! the WHOLE way along the trail was an incline! I finally got up to where the trail crossed the creek and gave up. I had already hiked at least a half mile by now.

I got back to the bike and resumed my carving. Oddly, the break didn't cause any lapse in the attack, and this made me smile .... MORE!

The 1250 is a great bike! It's not as fun as the 600 is because the fun is subdued by how smooth it is. You never *feel* fast. I never FEEL how fun it is (with the 600 you KNOW it, because, by God YOU are shaking as much as the bike is). There were a FEW times this day that I *felt* that. I still haven't touched a peg down, but, still,  it's one of those it's-built-for-me bikes.