January 30, 2008

Today’s miles: 31.9 on bike
Stokesdale, NC to Hanging Rock State Park

For simplicity, I’ve taken to specifying “Asheville” as my destination and if pressed further explain how I’m getting there by bike and on foot. And if someone is really interested in the logistics, I start to explain the syntax and name of the whole adventure (the Mountain-to-Sea Trail). Most people don't get past the second stage of interest.

Today started out really windy. After praying with Misty’s father in Parkers – another heart warming benediction that left me buzzing with goodwill - I biked down to the MST and rolled onward towards the mountains! I caught my first view today of the gorgeous blue bumps – the Saura Mountains. The biking was hillier than it has been, today. I spent some extra time biking to the HillBilly Hideaway on Pine Hill Rd (closed, too bad, but open on Friday, Sat, Sun and with live bluegrass music on Sat). I stopped for a long break in Walnut Cove, where I spent an hour and a half at the library, then ventured to the Antique Store, dicked around a little bit and talked to an older couple about my trip.

It was a hilly route. I stopped in a valley in bedazzlement at the sign “Gem Shop.” The worker, a lean bearded man with kind-of crazy eyes, fielded my questions.

"Why do you work here?" For the kids. Drugs, alcohol recovery.

"Where do the crystals come from?" All over the world. A guy from TN goes around the world to buy them every couple of years.

"Do you get school groups that come down?"
Yes, and 4-H

"Where does the honey come from?"
Made out back, spring honey is sweeter than sourwood honey. There are still plenty of bees (no mysterious die off here anyhow).

Then Steven gave me a hematite ring. We talked about good and bad people, crystals, and he wished “perty” me a good trip and stood on the porch and waved as I biked up the hill. I stopped again in Danbury to listen to local bluegrass at the Arts Center for Stokes County.

Biking into Hanging Rock Park, had to skip the hiking part again and I just gazed wistfully at the mountains and continued on my way. I stopped at the closed Moore's Springs campground, thinking that I might stay there, but decided otherwise when I saw an abandoned sleeping bag on the ground. I’m in a previously burnt site (so says the Keep Out tape) tented in the rapidly growing pine trees. I tried to talk to someone in the house across the street, but no one answered the door when I knocked. I feel pretty good about this site. I can hear owls hooting, dogs barking, and cars passing.

I am thriving on this trip. I am talking to so many people, moving and seeing places, out-biking ferocious dogs.