Thule Urban Assault

Today I rode in the Thule Urban Assault mountain bike race.  The event is part of Dominion RiverRock, a weekend festival of outdoor activities.   It is my home course, run on trails in the James River Park System that I regularly ride, so it seemed liked a good occasion for me to enter my first race.  Apparently the event is quite a draw for professional riders on the East Coast.  The pros would be doing two loops of the course, I would be doing just one, ten miles in length.  I think to most non-mountain bikers that doesn't sound very far, but on technical single track - trust me - it's a good distance.

Then send the pros off first, then there is actually an hour wait before the people doing a single loop set off.  This gives enough time for most guys to get around.  Unfortunately it meant sitting around on a hot afternoon waiting to get going.  I guess I could have showed up later but there was supposed to be a 'competitors meeting' at 12.30pm, which I thought might give some useful insight into racing etiquette but actually involved the announcer admonishing us to 'keep the rubber side down'.  So then I had to wait around until my wave start time at 2.11pm.

My wave, the beginner group ages 19-29, only had about 10-15 people in it so I was hoping that the trail wouldn't be too congested.  However, not only were there some people coming around for their second loop and catching up with us, we also had to contend with the fast guys in the 30-39 group that started a few minutes behind us.  My theory is that if you're in the 19-29 range theres a good chance you're in reasonable shape and just want to give it a go.  If you're in the 30-39 range and you've entered this kind of event it means you're a serious mountain biker.  Really, they need to adopt a wave start more like running races based on predicted time, not age.

Some of the more seasoned riders were very nice about trying to pass.  Others were down-right rude.  The biggest issue was that the beginner group had a lot of complete amateurs, so they would stall out on even the less technical hills but not really get out of the way.  If you did pass them they'd then come flying up behind you only to skid off the track at a tight turn.  I had one guy crash into the back of me when I was at the back of a traffic jam.  Basically it was carnage.  It was also exhausting, as it is much harder work to get off and push, then remount the bike and get going again.  I wanted to continue at my own pace but it was difficult to tell when the person behind you was legitimately faster than you rather than just tail gating.  The strange thing was, not matter how often I pulled over to let people by, there was another group on my tail in no time.  I guess I was going pretty slow!

Despite all the traffic, the race was a lot of fun.  There were several groups of spectators at a few of the obstacles, cheering people on and growing nuts when somebody successfully negotiated a technical section.  The course is great and it was awesome to be a part of a race that showcases my favorite trails.  Overall I think I am pleased with my performance.  I rode in one hour, 18 minutes, coming 6th in my age group from a total of 14 finishers, and 51st out of 96 who rode the 10 mile course.  I think I could do better but not sure if I enjoyed it enough to take another crack at it.  Maybe next year I'll marshall this race and run the 10K scramble instead!

The Ten Thousand Islands

So like I said, I stopped at the Gulf Coast Visitor Center and was talked into talking a boat tour.  Two different tours are offered.  One goes through the mangroves in a small boat but can be buggy and didn't fit with my schedule.  The other was on a larger covered pontoon boat which suited me because I was still trying to stay out of the sun.  The timing would leave me just enough of the afternoon to get back to the bike shop.  The tour was excellent and the guides gave a lot of information about the ecology, geography and history of the area, some of which I will try to recollect here.

The Ten Thousand Islands are an area where the Everglades meets the Gulf and there is this almost esturine geography as the land breaks up into many small islands of mangrove trees.  They really tried to count the islands on several occasions using aerial or satellite photography, but depending on the height of the tide the number can increase as small channels fill with water and one island becomes many!  But the ten thousand moniker is definitely in the right ball park and may even be an underestimation.

The mangrove tree is the only tree that can tolerate the saline waters of coastal areas, so it has the place to itself.  There are actually three kinds of mangrove, black, white and red, and all three are present on the florida mangroves.  They are an evergreen tree, so they do not lose their leaves in winter but rather they continually  drop leaves into the water.  The leaves contain tannins, so the waters around the mangrove islands are like a tea.  Although the water looks murky because of the decomposing mangrove leaves, it is very healthy and supports the second largest area of oyster beds in the U.S. (behind the Chesapeake Bay - woohoo!).  However, no-one eats the oysters from Florida because the waters stay too warm and bacteria abound.  There is no solid ground on the islands, but in some places there looks like there is a beach.  It is formed by oyster shells.  Since they are not harvested, they build up in large numbers and during a storm are pushed up against the islands.

The ten thousand islands is home to several species of fishing bird.  The osprey is there in large numbers, as well as the snowy egret and several types of heron including the tri-color heron, which I don't think I'd seen before.  The most impressive bird to see is the swallowtailed kite.  Like all kites it is amazingly agile in the air, and it spirals through the tree tops eating bugs off the branches as it goes!  I was really hoping to see a manatee, but had to make do with dolphins.  The dolphin we did see were practicing the art of love. Yes, that's right, copulating dolphins.  Dolphins also engage in coitus for pleasure, like humans and there three seemed to just be enjoying a bit of afternoon love-making.  Three, you ask?  Well, you see their mechanics is the same as ours (they are mammals, not fish) but they don't have arms, or beds, so the male has to get his buddy to lend a flipper and hold the female in position.  The overall result is a writhing mass of sleek grey flesh splashing around in the water with the occasional flash of a large pink member.  We were apparently very lucky to witness this event, but it was a little uncomfortable.  The dolphins were not easily distracted from their task, and we ran out of time before they ran out of steam.

On the way back in one of the guides rambled through some of the history of the area.  Tales of the spanish trying to move in and being beaten back by skilled indian warriors.  Stories of lawless settlement where the villagers meted out justice with a variety of makeshift weaponry according to their own feeling of what the facts might be.  I guess the Everglades has been a good place to dump a body for a long time!

So, if you every get down the the Everglades, definitely take the short detour down 29 and check out the Gulf Coast Visitor Center.  The staff will happily talk you out of your money but it will be totally worth it!

The 'Glades

I had to get the bike back to the shop by 4.30pm and I had no idea what might be in store for the day ahead.  So my plan was to ride most of the distance back to Naples and see how the time was going, then decide what Everglade related activities to engage in.  The ride out of the Keys was fun.  In many ways the area between Key Largo and Miami is the most beautiful.  The waters are an unreal shade of green-blue and fill numerous channels between the wooded islands and peninsulas.  On the way back I managed to find the road that skirts the urban areas back to Tamiami Trail.  I was really glad I did as I got to see another facet of Florida's countryside.  The road was lined with nurseries and orchards growing lemons, oranges, limes and a variety of other fruit that may have been mangos and similar that I'd never seen on the tree before.

I turned onto Tamiami Trail and made short work of the first 50 miles or so.  The road essentially forms a dam across the Everglades than prevents the natural flow of water.  Lake Okeechobee empties into the Everglades and instead of forming a single river channel the water meanders across the entire landscape as a swamp but is inexorably progressing towards the gulf.   Route 41 halts that progress.  To remedy the situation, they are converting an entire section of the road from a dirt mound to a causeway bridge so the water can flow underneath unimpeded.  This is a mammoth task which was bought home as I watch a truck arrive at the work site with a single massive concrete cross beam.  It had driven the 50 plus miles from Miami, but that was just a single component and hundreds like it would be needed to support the roadway.  The point is, the first third of the trail consists of a construction site on one side and a manmade canal on the other, which is basically the ditch left behind when they piled up the earth to put the road on. The you get the the Indian villages which use garish billboards to advertise airboat tours and alligator wrestling.  Finally you get to the Everglades National Park and Big Cypress National Preserve.  Right before Big Cypress is the Shark Valley Visitor Center.  I pulled over to see what was up but there was and admission fee and I didn't feel like messing with it.  I pull a quick U-turn and stop to check my phone when I realize there is an alligator sitting next to me in a drainage ditch.  Well, that was easy!  Check off 'alligator' on the wildlife spotting list.

I went a little further to the Oasis Visitor Center which serves Big Cypress.  It was kinda small but had a lot of good information about the wildlife and the off road trails you could drive through the 'Glades.  I considered checking one out, but wasn't sure how the rental shop would feel about me going offroad on their shiny Softail.  Plus the trails are rumored to be crawling with alligators than have become accustomed to humans baiting them, and didn't want them to think I was offering my feet as a snack.  Apparently it is quite dangerous to get out of your car.  On I went to Kirby Storter Roadside Park.  I had stopped there on the way down to put my earplugs in and had made a mental note to visit more thoroughly on the way back.  There is a very nice boardwalk out to an alligator hole.  By this point I had seen so many gators that it didn't hold quite the same attraction but I still wanted to check it out.  It's a great way to see the Everglades habitat up close.  The boardwalk goes through a stand of cypress trees, which all have air-plants and orchids growing off of them.  I had heard someone explaining that although people think of the everglades as a big swamp, there is a base of limestone right beneath the surface, and where the boardwalk crossed over grassland you could see patches of the white stone peeking through.

After enjoying a rest in a thatched shelter, I still had plenty of time to kill, and was beginning to get hungry for lunch, so I decided to hit the road and head towards Everglades City.  The city, if you can call it that, is just a few miles south of U.S. 41.  I was expecting something more substantial and had ridden through almost before I realised I had arrived.  I continued on to the end of the road, to the small village of Chokoloskee.  There wasn't a whole lot there either.   The only attraction was some historic local store.  I stuck my head in and could tell it wasn't worth the admission price, so retraced my tracks to EC.  Right on the southern edge of the city is the Gulf Coast Visitor Center, part of Everglades National Park.  I stuck me head it and the lady at the counter got straight to work on me, convincing me to go on a boat tour.  It turned out I had just enough time to fit in a tour of the Ten Thousand Islands.  The islands are comprised completely of mangrove trees.  The boat tour was so excellent I think I might have to dedicate an entire post to it.  See you next time!

Really the Florida Keys

OK, so we just about got the the Keys last time, but what did I do there?  I really only had two activities in mind.  One was a kayak trip and the other was sitting on the beach.  For reasons I will explain in due time, I achieved one of these!  I had a hotel room booking in Marathon, which is about halfway between Key Largo (the first Key) and Key West (at the end of the line).  Right before you arrive in Marathon there is a state park called Curry Hammock.  I had read that you can rent a kayak there, and preferred to do that than try to find a commercial outfitter.

One of the joys of motorcycle travel is getting to change clothes in parking lots.  I had cleverly worn a pair of swim shorts under my jeans, so didn't have to go butt naked to get ready for water sports but the park ranger probably thought I was cuckoo as I stripped out of my riding gear and emerged in shorts and flip-flops ready to hit the beach.  The particularly attractive thing about renting a kayak at this state park was that you could paddle though a mangrove tunnel.  The ranger gave me a laminated map and showed me the best way to go around the island with the current tidal conditions.  Unfortunately I had arrived at the beginning of low tide so it was hard going in shallow water.  I kept scooping up seaweed and flinging it into my hair!  However I was making much better headway that a pair of couples that were in tandem kayaks and drew too much water to negotiate the shallows.  After a period of basically punting myself along I finally reached some deeper water at the back of the island.

You can see in the second photo the entrance to the tunnel.  Other than a small sign you would have no idea there was a path through the trees.  The ranger had set me right, there was a good current flowing through the tunnel and I was able to ride along making small course corrections but not really having to paddle.  A good thing, because there was no room to be swinging the paddle around.  The picture is a more open section were I was able to snap a picture without crashing into the jungle.  The craziest part was that there were thousands of crabs on the mangrove roots.  I mean, they were everywhere!  I feared that if my kayak brushed against a root then an army of crabs would board my vessel and devour me.  This really was one of the coolest experience of my life.  It was like a carnival ride but completely a product of nature.

Once I reached the tunnel exit I was almost back to my starting point.  I had about half of my allotted time left, so paddled out to a sand bar about a quarter mile off shore.   Beaching my kayak on the white sands was like arriving at my own private island.  After relaxing for a few minutes it was time to return.  I did make a short detour down a channel that the ranger had mentioned in relation to iguanas.  Sure enough, on the top of a well weathered telegraph pole was sitting a content iguana.  Apparently they are escaped pets that have started a colony in that particular area.

Once I had returned my kayaking equipment it was about check in time at the hotel so I figured I would go there and take stock of my situation.  I was only a few miles down the road so after swapping my flip-flops for trainers I rode in shorts and a vest feeling very biker.  On arrival at the hotel it became apparent that I may had gotten every so slightly sunburned.  I certainly had a bad case of panda eyes, and my arms were a little tender, but worst off were the backs of my hands from being on the bike with no gloves on.  Anyway, sitting on the beach was definitely out of the question.  I had hoped that some fun activities would be within walking distance but this was not really the case.  Luckily there was a tiki bar right across the street, so I stopped in for my tropical beer of choice, Red Stripe.  After some lounging around it had begun to cool off so I took the bike out to ride some more of the overseas highway.  I wondered if I would be able to make it down to Key West, but didn't really want to ride after dark since without a visor I was relying on sunglasses to keep the bugs out of my eyes.  I got as far as Big Pine Key, maybe a little further, but the sun was sinking fast and it was clear Key West was going to have to wait to another day.  I got back to my seat at the bar in time to watch the sun set and enjoy a dinner of grilled yellowtail and a fruity rum drink.

The Florida Keys

The second part of my adventure involves me, a Harley-Davidson Softail Deluxe and the open road.  It has been an ambition of mine to ride a motorcycle along Route 1 in the Keys.  I've never been particularly attracted to the Harley-Davidson brand, but I felt it would be wrong to judge without a proper trial.  A little investigation on the internet led me to Everglades Motorcycle Service in Naples.  I went for the cheapest option of the two bikes they rent, a 2005 Softail Deluxe.  The motor is a 103 cu in V-twin, meaning each cylinder was larger on it's own that any bike I have ever ridden before.

Since the fishing trip wrapped up a little early, I was able to pick up the bike the evening before I had planned to leave.  Not only did that give me a nice early departure in the morning with the paperwork out of the way, it also allowed me some city riding to acquaint myself with this beast.  I was pleasantly surprise with my ability to handle such a large bike, especially since it has been a year or two since I last rode.  The guy at the shop helpfully recommended that I ride down the access road for the industrial estate we were on, and I made a neat U-turn at the end, instantly boosting my confidence.

The vibration from the engine was hardly noticeable, thanks to a counterbalanced twin cam design.  The seat was enormously comfortable.  To be honest I was more embarrassed than exhilerated by the exhaust noise, it just doesn't make sense to me.  Having said that, when you ease off the throttle you get an awesome throaty spluttering sound.  Its very hard to describe, but I confess that I rather enjoyed negotiating the suburbs of South Miami on a joyless road with stoplights every block.  Normally it would be a torment, but with that soundtrack the discomfort of the heat and traffic was almost forgotten.

As I said, I got an early start.  I wasn't sure how long it would really take, nor how many things I would want to do in the Keys, so I motored through the Everglades on the Tamiami Trail.  I made a mental note of places I might like to visit on the way back.  I had not ridden with anything other than a full face helmet before so wasn't sure what a long period at speed would be like.  I was surprised to find that earplugs helped a lot, as I always thought that it was the noise of the wind over the helmet that was loud.  But with my ears open to the air it was actually quite painful after a few miles at 70mph.  I pulled over and stuck the plugs in and was quite comfortable after that.

When I hit the urban sprawl I got a little lost trying to find a way down to the Keys without having to take  the toll road.  Florida has completely done away with cash toll booths on some turnpikes, so you have to stop and buy a pre-paid card or something.  I wasn't really sure how it would work on a rental bike, so just decided to avoid the toll.  Lucky I had my iPhone strapped to my belt, so could stop and check the map.  Not like my previous riding experience which usually involved stopping at a gas station and trying to subtly look at an road atlas without having to buy it!

Before too long I had located Route 1 and was quickly at the start of the Keys.  The nice thing about being on a loud bike is you feel like you have a license to scream your head off because the chances are no one can hear you!  Woohoooooo! I'm in the freakin' Florida Keys!

Florida

I have just returned from a trip to Florida.  Even though it was a relatively short trip I packed a lot in, so I think I will split the vacation into a few episodes.  In this first installment, I will focus on a fishing trip on the Enterprise.  The Enterprise is a 34-foot sport fishing boat captained by Capt. Rich, ably assisted by 1st mate Russell.  We set off out of Marco Island, just South of Naples.  After a short idle to get out of the marina area we were on the open sea and Capt Rich opened up the throttle.   It was amazing how much water is being moved by the bow even when planed out (that is, the boat is moving fast enough to rise partially out of the water, reducing drag).  After a few minutes we had reached the first fishing spot and Russell had the rods ready.

At first we did not even use bait, just a lure.  We were fishing for Spanish Mackerel.  They are a streamlined fish that likes to chase their prey, so one good technique to use is the fast retrieve.  The concept is to cast the line and wait a few seconds for the lure to sink a little so that it is at the depth that the fish are swimming.  To get the attention of your quarry you have to give it some 'action'.  This entails jerking the rod back and forth a couple of times, but you must also keep the line taught by winding the reel a little.  I is a bit like trying to pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time.  Sometime I felt I my action was good, other times I was woefully uncoordinated.  Next comes the fast retrieve.  The rod is turned so you have a comfortable angle to reel and you reel like hell.  If you feel a strike, you must pull on the rod to make sure the hook firmly embeds itself.  The Mackerel put up a small fight, enough to make it fun but it is not really a challenge to land the fish.  More difficult is leaving the correct six feet of line so that you don't swing the thrashing fish into the face of the mate as he comes to extract the hook!

The fish came easily for a while.  I was chastised for catching fish that we too small, but wasn't given any useful advice on how to hook larger specimens.  Apparently a good fisherman will be able to tell if it's a small fish and allow it to unhook itself by slackening the line, but I was so excited every time I got a bite I didn't care.  Russell seemed perfectly happy to unhook them and toss them back, so long as I left the requisite 6 feet of line!

All of a sudden, the fish stopped biting.  We would see a few following our lures but they had gotten wise seeing their friends plucked out of the water.  No matter, Captain Rich gunned the engine and in no time had us over another school of willing participants.  When another lull occurred, we tried baiting out lines with shrimp, but this seemed to result only in us catching Jack Crevalles, a pretty fish with yellow highlights but not worth keeping.

It has to be said there is a lot more skill to fishing that first meets the eye.  Obviously there is the talent in finding the fish.  They often school around some underwater object, a reef or wreck for instance, and Captain Rich had a few waypoints in his GPS so was able to put us right on the fish.  But the art of casting a line and getting a bite was clearly more complex than I had initially thought.  We were in a dry spell and frustration is setting in.  Why aren't the fish biting anymore.  Captain Rich comes down from the tower and grabs a line.  Casts.  Hooks a fish and hands the line to me to land it.  Says, 'lemme see that again', cast, strike, another Mackerel.  He shows me the trick: he casts in a certain direction, but the wind is catching the line a preventing the lure from sinking.  So he holds the tip of the rod down by the water so that the line is submerged and cannot be ballooned by the wind.  Well, I copy him exactly but have no more luck.

By this point the rough seas are starting to take their toll.  The tide is running one way and the wind blowing the other so it is difficult to keep the boat from lurching around unpredictably.   Also, my knees are beginning to complain about being braced against the rail, so we decide to call it a day.

Still, I can hardly complain, we have a fine haul of Mackerel.  Once back at the Marina, Captain Rich expertly fillets the fish, feeding the scraps to the attendant pelicans and egrets who know it's feeding time.   It is sublime raw, and delicious when fried up in a light breading.

Twitter

I haven't been doing too well keeping up with my blog but perhaps I'll have more success with micro-blogging. Follow me @johnwevens to keep tabs on what I'm eating for breakfast.

A winter hike

Technically, March 20th is still winter, so this counted as a winter hike in the mountains. It wasn't the warmest day we have had this March, but when the sun came out it was very pleasant and even during overcast spells we were easily warm enough provided we kept moving. Boudin did great. The terrain didn't seem to bother him and with everybody's encouragement he managed to keep up the pace - not that he got fatigued but if it were up to him he'd stop to smell every tree in the forest. We did the circuit from Browns Gap parking area on Skyline Drive down a fire road to the trail that takes you past Doyles River Fall and Jones Run Falls back up the the AT. After one cheeky shortcut near Dundo camping area we reckon the mileage to be about six dead.

Home from the Road Trip

Sorry to any readers who were worried that we didn't make it home. The last two days were spent slogging away at the miles and I didn't have a lot of energy for blogging. Plus, not much happened! When we got awoke in New Orleans we intended to walk to Cafe du Monde for some kind of famous hole-less donut, but it was tipping down with rain. By the time we got the car, it had stopped raining, but we still drove around the block to find people queuing down the street at the cafe. OK, scratch that idea. We grabbed a McDonald's breakfast instead. By lunch we were in the region of Montgomery, so we reached for the GPS to find us a spot to get some Gulf seafood before we got too far from the coast. Three separate places turned out to be sketchy, closed or non-existent, so we had Wendy's. Things really weren't going our way.
Our last night was New Year's Eve and we were in Athens, GA. It was a fun town, and we enjoyed dinner and a drink in a cool downtown bar, but we were running on empty and retired to the hotel to ring in 2011. The next day proceeded much as the previous had. Drizzle most of the day. Attempted lunch at a Cracker Barrel, but to long of a wait, so Firehouse Subs. We just wanted to get home, and in time we were! The familiar Richmond skyline appeared as we turned a bend in the highway and our road-trip of 3110 miles, was nearing it's end. In all, we had traversed 10 States (VA, TN, AR, TX, LA, MS, AL, GA, SC, NC) and for me six of them were virgin territory. Tennessee was beautiful; Louisiana soulful and fun. But the best part of the trip was time spent with family, especially the newest addition. That, and getting home!

Trip from Texas Day ?

I'm not sure if this is day one of the trip home or day eight overall. Either way it's been a good one. It was an immense pleasure to visit with Martha, Graham, Toby and Mom. We has a truly fantastic time. It is inspiring to hold Toby in my arms and also to see what a splendid job his parents are doing of nurturing the little guy! All the same, we are excited to be back on the road back to our home, our friends, family and especially our Boudin!
Talking of Boudin, we are in the land of Creole, Cajun and Bayous. We have decided that since we are in the general area, it is worth stopping in on the Big Easy. Totally worth it! We drove in via LA state route 1, which gave us a good feel for the coastal area, a mix of heavy industry and rural swamp land. Once we arrive in New Orleans, it was a whole new world. Following out GPS we suddenly found ourselves on a side street crowded with pedestrians and a brass band quartet. We would soon discover this was our first experience of Bourbon Street. All the hype you've ever heard about Bourbon St? It's true! In fact, the whole area is just awesome. A few block from party town and you are standing on the bank of the Mississippi River watching the fog roll into the city.
Crawfish cakes. Catfish Po'Boy. Jambalaya. Tres Bein.

T3 D3

Tonight we enjoy the five star accommodations at Hotel White! Home cooked meals, entertainment provided by Toby Sebastian and a luxurious air mattress! We have finally arrived.
The into Hot Springs last night was a little scary along twisty, hilly roads through the forest in the rainy dark. Driving out this morning the same twisty, hilly roads were a pleasant change in scenery to the monotonous interstate. Soon we were back doing major damage on the few miles remaining between us and our destination.
We stopped for lunch at a Jack in the Box, chosen mostly by virtue of it being the only thing open on Christmas morning. I had a Sourdough Steak Melt that made me wish we had Jack back East. Shortly after lunch break we were into the Dallas area and the monotony of the last 1400 miles was soon forgotten as we navigated giant tangled spaghetti junctions with crazy drivers careening across six lane highways. The Magellan came into its own and we were glad to have an updated map in the memory to guide us through labyrinth. Once past Dallas, driving conditions dramatically improved and in no time we were pulling up outside a cute house and being warmly greeted by family.
Merry Christmas everyone!!

T3 Day 2

Today felt like more of a serious driving day as we set out to conquer Tennessee and make a big dent in Arkansas. We dropped out of the mountains and things got flatter as we headed into the Memphis area. We stopped in Music City with high hopes of doing some really sightseeing but the place was pretty much shut down. What did we expect on Christmas Eve? We had hoped to take in the great Mississippi by visiting Mud Island Park which includes a concrete relief of the whole river basin, but it was closed for the season. We rode on a street car along a back street of old industrial buildings some of which had been transformed into office space for software firms, others still lay in disrepair. Alighting in Beale Street, it was possible to imagine hoards of revelers staggering beer in hand down the road in the evening Memphis sun before enjoying some live blues. But the place was deserted, the blues bars closed. We headed round the corner to a Flying Saucer for a local brew from Ghost River. On the way out of town we stopped by Sun Studios but it wasn't much to look at.

After crossing the mighty Mississippi the drive got even flatter. We've made it to Hot Springs. There's not much between us and our destination except about 300 miles of tarmac, so we'll try to make short work of it in the morning. Signing off...

Trip to Texas Day One

I hope you're all following along at home! Day One: Richmond, VA to Harriman, TN (just West of Knoxville) via Abingdon and Gatlinburg. We had a fun first day on the road. After a sad farewell to all the animals we got going. The first leg of the journey took us to the Valero on Semmes Ave for gas, coffee and donuts. Then we were on the highway and immediately stuck in traffic. It was starting to look like a long way to Texas! The delay was short and we were soon ticking away the miles. By the time we were done with the first Sedaris tale we almost at Roanoke and steaming our way out of Virginia. First though, a late lunch in Abingdon, a quaint railway town in the Southwest of our home state.

There were a few flakes of snow in the air as we stepped out of the car and ran into the Ellis Soda Shoppe for a bite to eat. We walked a few blocks down the high street after lunch but it was bitterly cold so we got back in the car and soon crossed in to Tennessee. Although we had been driving through the mountains, you don't really get to see them from the Interstate, so I had been wanting to take a detour to make sure that we experienced the Smokies. Gatlinburg is not far off our route and sits on the edge of the Great Smoky Mountains Park. It has this awesome space needle that I was dying to visit. As we drove in from the highway we got a great view of snowcapped mountains. You could clearly see the snowline, where the steep slopes fade from white to dark. Little did we know that would be the best thing about our detour!

Gatlinburg was described by my travelling companion as 'Virginia Beach in the Mountains'. In other words, it is a resort town full of hotels, and places for the people who stay in the hotels to eat and spend money on inane amusements, such as the space needle, a dilapidated structure that barely scrapes the low clouds (let alone space) and is accessed by a lift who's doors only close if the occupants stand in the right place (backs pressed against the wall). The only other thing we found to do in town was take a free taste of Moonshine, although I could have had the same experience for almost the same price by taking a sip of antifreeze. We exited Gatlinburg by a different route and passed through the town of Pigeon Forge, which was like Myrtle Beach in the mountains. The Christmas lights were insane. In the median of the main drag they had erected the twelve days of Christmas. Every few blocks there was another group from the song. From the direction we were coming from we started at 12 and counted down. The creators had done a good job representing each verse, although four (traditionally Colly Birds) had been difficult so they went with the variant 'calling birds' and presented us with four parrots sitting atop telephones. Needless to say we were on the edge of our carseats as we approach the imfamous partridge, only to find the smallest, least ambitious light-structure in history! Oh well.

To round off the day we had Mexican for dinner and found a Crayola in our salsa. Seriously...

Sean Castleberry @ Marty's Grill

Quick blog shout out to Sean Castleberry, who entertained us at Marty's grill on Saturday night. We dig your groove. Gonjoe, loved the poetry and harp. Thaks guys.

Suntrust Richmond Marathon

The Richmond Marathon course takes the runners past the end of our road. They have covered approximately 14.5 miles as they cross 28th Street. We are encircled by the course making it hard to drive anywhere without having one's route blocked by a stream of athletes! I knew of a couple of people who were taking part, so I decided to go out to watch the runners cruise by. When I got to the course, a few pros were coming through shepherded by police motorcycle escorts. The flow of bodies gradually thickened, although by this point in the race the field was already stretched out. I spent about two hours walking between mile markers 14 and 15, stopping to take a few photos and offer encouragement, with pounding feet relentlessly jogging past me. At first it was inspiring to see so many people of different sizes and ages running together. At the tail end of the field it was a little depressing to see people struggling having only just reached the halfway point. However, by the time I turned for home the trickle had all but stopped completely and ahead of schedule for the cutoff time, so all the runners I saw were still in contention for a finisher's medal.
Having competed in a 10K run, where the entire route is lined with spectators, it was interesting to see the marathon pass through a residential neighborhood and still see long stretches without any supporters. It is surprising how encouraging it can be to have a complete stranger cheer you on! I spent a good amount of time on the hill up to the Lee Bridge offering my support to tired legs as they slogged up the grade. Hopefully it did some good.
As for the photos, I was hoping to get a shot somewhere that would capture the sheer volume of people, but nothing quite came out the way I had envisioned. I stood on a trashcan to try and get some altitude! By the time I walked up the the bridge the main field had already crossed, otherwise I would've climb up on a handily place police car to capture the scene... The fall colors helped give the pictures a little more interest. I never did see anyone I recognized!

Wine tours

Sometimes it pains me to blog about the fun things I do. After finding a hidden gem, it seems a shame to tell everybody. I comfort myself in knowing that the readership of this blog is very small!

I can't go within 50 miles of Charlottesville without doing a winetasting at one of the many Virginian wineries in the area. Luckily, a live 60 miles away, so I'm not there every day! The tours are so cheap, usually $5 to taste the vineyard's line of current varieties. This time I went by my usual method: used Google maps to find the winery closest to our primary destination and take our chances. This time, Chance was on our side and we ended up at the Winery open by Dave Mathews in 2000. The barn which houses the tasting room is spectacular. There was nothing I didn't love about the structure, but my favorite detail was that the floors were made with oak that used to be huge cider tanks at the Bulmer's brewery.

We didn't find any spectacular wines, but we had a lot of fun.

Monticello

I'm sure there's not a single angle of Monticello that hasn't been photographed, so here's my picture-postcard view that I could've probably found in 0.47 seconds on Google. Apparently no-one can remember if I'd been to Thomas Jefferson's hilltop home before, but I can safely say that if I had visited, I was too young at the time to recall many details.

The thing about an iconic location such as Monticello is that you think you already know all. The columns, the contraptions, the collections; the self-taught scientist, architect and politician. All true, but none a reason not to set foot on the property in person and discover the history for oneself.

On the day we visited some of the house normally on the tour was closed for restoration, so we got half price tickets. I'm not much for guided tours so this suited me fine. We had about an hour before our scheduled tour time to wander the grounds. Most surprising was the variety of produce still being grown in the vegetable garden at this time of year. The garden in set on a 100 yard long terrace on the South hillside, with panoramic views of the plain below.

We also took the opportunity to explore the 'Dependancies', the sunken wings off of the main house which housed some of the industries on which the house and estate depended. I envy the beer cellar!

The house tour itself was brief but ultimately exceeded expectations. We had a Middle-Eastern party with our tour group and one a few members spoke good enough English to murmur translations to their compatriots. I found the process almost as interesting as the tour itself. The guide spoke in elevated prose mired with the witticisms one would expect of a Jefferson devotee, so one can only imagine the messages received after translation! We learned from the tour that Jefferson worked ridiculously hard in all aspects of life, and so perhaps deserves the status a American demi-god, especially as he worked the hardest on discerning the properties of his nascent nation, both in investigating the natural world that existed there and inventing the social world that came to exist.

As usual, a fuller pictorial account is available on my Flickr page. Enjoy

The Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear

This Saturday I attended the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear, an event hosted by Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. The two organizers are hosts of The Daily Show and the Colbert Report (pronounced with silent 'T's ie. "the Colbear Repour"), two satirical current events programs on the Comedy Central cable network. I have always been interested to attend a political rally, and since I don't have particularly strong beliefs then this seemed like an appropriate event for my first rally.
Being comedians, Jon and Steven (who regularly lampoon politicians, journalists and pundits for just about any opinion the espouse) were wary to attach any political message to the rally. Every news outlet made some attempt to explain what the rally was about. Many concluded that participants felt that politics had deteriorated into too much rhetoric and hyperbole, and that a return to sane discourse is required for the country to progress.
To me, all attempts to explain the rally are doomed to fail. Since nobody knew in advance what the primary message was, it attracted anybody who felt a resonance with the characters of Stewart and Colbert, which is to say all those who don't take things too seriously. It was something of an anti-rally, and perhaps the real message to take home is: rallies are pretty pointless. It's clearly not difficult to persuade thousands of people to show up in a central location for a few hours on a sunny October Saturday afternoon. You don't need to have a strong or coherent message. Holding a rally doesn't achieve anything, but that doesn't mean you should do it!
I personally enjoyed the experience. I think the demographic was of people who are not rich or poor. They are educated, but they don't claim to know it all. They are reasonable people who are not easily offended or angered. It was fun to meet a few such people, and therapeutic for us all to have our own rally. Do I think even the slightest tremor will be felt in the political landscape? No, not really. But in an age of extremism, it is comforting to know that were are at least a few thousand other sane people out there.
See it on my Flickr

Boudin's first Camping Trip.

OK, I should have posted about this along time ago, but never got around to it. We had an additional participant in our annual trip to the OBX this year. Having never previously travelled further than a few blocks in the car, we subjected the poor pooch to a four hour car journey down to the beach. On the whole he did very well, although he spent most of the time sitting on the back seat with his head cowed looking a little queasy. He very much enjoyed the traditional lunch rest stop at Sonic, where he made a few friends. For the most part the drive was relievingly uneventful.

Boudin is a natural beach doggy. Once we taught him not to drink the salt water, he had a grand old time. He likes the same things we like. Hanging out enjoying the view, watching the pelicans cruise past, taking the occasional paddle, walking down the beach picking up interesting shells (or in his case Mermaid's purses). He helped us dig a fire pit and stayed up late just talking, star-gazing and listening to the waves.

Boudin is also a good camper. OK, he farts in the tent a lot, but I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of sleep he let us get. At the campsite he was happy to be on the long chain we got him. Being away from home didn't seem to bother him at all.

Having a dog can be scary, but it's so rewarding to do new things with them. I was worried that he would freak out. I was worried that we would feel too tied down with a dog, not being able to go to restaurants for example. In the end it worked out well. We got a great take out lunch from Austin's Fish Market.

Doggy!

It's official (having been unofficial since July 3rd). We paid the lady, got the papers, need to take care of a few bits of paperwork with the city and the microchip people, but to all intents and purposes we are the legal owners of a (mostly) Dachshund, goes by the name of Boudin. A note on the name: he was apparently named after a brand of French sausage, being one of a litter of sausage dogs, but we knew nothing of his pedigree or of French cuisine when we first stumbled across his profile on petfinder. So from the start we pronounced it 'BOW-din', and, well, as a bona fide American these days I see it as a right, if not a duty to mispronounce words of foreign origin.
Having a dog is awesome. I took a lot of convincing to take the plunge, but when we met Boudin for the first time it was clear he was a smart guy who would fit in well in our household of genius animals. For me one of the best things is being on an upwards learning curve. Sure, he's chewed a few things but nothing we will miss terribly. Haven't felt this fit in a year or two. Early to bed, earlier to rise! Hell, I'm even drinking Michelob Ultra these days!
Woof.