Martin’s Journal
I’m sitting in a Holiday Inn Express in Cherokee, North Carolina across the street from the Harrah's’s Cherokee Casino. Traffic is finally dying down after the holiday weekend. It is Monday July 5th and The Freewheelin Bob Dylan appropriately plays Girl from The North Country over my shoulder.
"Girl From The North Country"
If you're traveling in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Remember me to one who lives there
For she was once a true love of mine.
If you go when the snowflakes storm
When the rivers freeze and summer ends
Please see for me if she's wearing a coat so warm
To keep her from the howlin' winds.
Please see from me if her hair hanging long
If it rolls and flows all down her breast
Please see from me if her hair hanging long
That's the way I remember her best.
I’m wondering if she remembers me at all
Many times I’ve hoped and prayed
In the darkness of my night,
In the brightness of my day.
Well, if you're traveling in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Please say hello to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine.
If you're travelin' in the north country fair
Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine.
We’ve been a traveling the north country fair. Martin’s Ride To Cure Cancer started less than week ago on Tuesday June 29th. Today is Monday July 5th. Can it really be less than a week we’ve been on the road? So many things needed to change. Our idea to blog daily was lost to the vagaries of Internet and cell phone coverage in the mountains, mountains being an impediment to satellite communication no matter what cell phone company commercials say.
We had to let the dream of pedaling every mile from Durham to LA go with the reality of the need for “blue road” bicycle travel. Blue roads are rural roads that tend to zig zag roughly around interstate i40. We ride where we can and what I can safely do. Each day presents challenges and obstacles some health but mostly logistics. Leaving Durham summer heat kept distances to around 50 miles a day. I learned this lesson the hard way pushing sixty miles the first day with many hot miles coming after lunch riding with temperatures in the nineties. Sometimes it is both the heat and humidty (lol). We will try NOT to ride in this kind of heat again. Here is what I’ve ridden after six days:
June 29th: 60 miles
June 30th: 50 miles
July 1st: 50 miles
July 2nd: 20 miles (riding Blue Ridge Parkway in the Mountains)
July 3rd: 20 Miles (riding Blue Ridge Parkway in the Mountains)
July 4th: 30 miles (riding Blue Ridge Parkway in the Mountains)
Total: 230
Yesterday’s ride from Cherokee (elevation 2,000 ft) to just past Lickstone Ridge Overlook (elevation 5150 and pictured at the top of this page) on the Blue Ridge Parkway was the hardest bicycle ride of my life. There isn't even a close second except for other days on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Ever think you may have bitten off more than you can chew? That is how I felt looking up and seeing nothing but a steep grade yesterday, but my legs felt good after two days in the mountains and it has been blessedly cool. Less heat for elevation and loud Harleys in tunnels was a trade I gladly make on the 4th of July.
Blue Ridge Parkway tunnels are scary and black. Throw in a gaggle of Harleys and these Blue Ridge Parkway black holes can be dangerous. Harley people are nice. Motorcycle riders are careful of a crazy man wearing a blinking red light trying to tap his way through a pitch black cave. Sunday July 4th it seemed there were more Harleys on the Blue Ridge than insects :).
Blue Ridge Parkway Tunnel
Climbing for the better part of thirteen miles puts my mind in an interesting place. Someone asked me what I thought about when riding long distances at our reception in Greensboro on the 29th. I said I focused on riding and staying upright, but that isn’t fully accurate. Riding takes intermittent attention from the “please don’t let me die” part of the brain. There is time for other parts to wander back across the events of the last few days, weeks, months and years.
And that is the repeatable fractal of my mind’s calisthenics. My mind works from recent events toward the fringes of memory dividing time between “PAY ATTENTION NOW” stuff such as gravel on the side of a dark tunnel with Harleys behind and rounding a bend to see steep climbing ahead. I create goals too. Yesterday I wanted to crest the monster THING we were climbing. It went on, and on, and on and on for 3,000 feet of elevation on a seven percent grade. One advantage of resting the RV in Cherokee was Brian and Jeremy could ride too. I started out about an hour before and we met at Lickstone Ridge young legs climbing faster than older ones :). We descended together making sure to keep our speed no higher than 35 mph.
We were overly careful with Sunday’s descent for two reasons. Jeremy and I hit a top speed of 45 mph on a descent the first day. Forty-five miles an hour on a bicycle is fun but too risky. One tiny imperfection, one wrong weight shift and….well you can imagine. After climbing for hours your brain isn’t ready to take the SAT’s, so we played it safe “scrubbing out speed” as Jeremy explained by braking and going slow enough to stay well in control. We felt bad about cars behind until I noted we were going only 10 miles an hour slower than their speed limit. Even so we pulled into several overlooks to take quick breaks before continuing our descent. Four hours of climbing and then a fast, fun twenty minute descent led us to the most harrowing part of our day – riding in traffic back to the hotel.
Cherokee is a kitschy Indian reservation with competing Live Indian Dancing, blankets and moccasin stores lining its streets. The casino must be doing well. Building is aggressive and pervasive making traffic tricky and dangerous. This must be the only place in the world you can fish for trout and walk 100 yards to place a bet at the Harrah's Casino. Every municipal building looked new and impressive. If you come to Cherokee, North Carolina avoid the 4th of July.
Going back over the first six days of Martin’s Ride there are highlights such as a surprise visit at the Daniel Boone RV park outside of Asheville by my friend John Kean and his ten year old son Brian (a.k.a. Smitty). Smitty has to be one of the most aware ten year olds on the planet. At one point he said, “my brother had a fit today and he is eight that is way too old to be having fits.” We had a late dinner with John and Smitty outside Asheville Friday night and they drove over to our RV park outside Dillsboro.
Dillsboro, North Carolina has some of the nicest people we’ve met. Everyone from the owner of the Jarrett House to the manager at the Fort Tatham RV Park treated us like kings, wanted to hear about Martin’s Ride and wished us well. I regretted not brining my fishing gear as the trout were jumping in the Tuckaseegee as we sat on the bank waiting for fireworks to shoot out of the quarry and over the downtown. A special thanks goes out to the
West Carolina Internet Café . Continuing the Dillsboro “nice people” tradition the West Carolina Internet Café let the Martin’s Ride team check email and blog for hours after buying a single coke and a pastry. Internet coverage in the North Carolina mountains is spotty. I think spotty Internet coverage may be what saves these beautiful small towns and majestic mountains. If it were easy to do work form here surely everyone would live in the North Carolina Mountains.
More after lunch.