This post originally was to run Monday afternoon but because of my inability to keep track of my 1,527 passwords and user names when confronted with a backup computer, it appears now.
I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Black Mountain. I’m supposed to be on a bike about five miles from here, climbing the Blue Ridge Parkway up to Mount Mitchell. I’m not because of the weather.
What would a Hare Krishna do? Not a question I ever envisioned asking myself, but I did this morning during a 30-mile bike ride in rural Orange County.
Earlier on the ride, Alan and I were heading east on Arthur Minnis Road, about to turn left onto Borland Road. We were riding single file, me in front, Alan on my wheel. As the turn approached, Alan looked back, saw a car approaching in the distance, announced there was a car but that we had time to turn. I signaled a left turn, heard a car accelerating, then the horn. Just as quickly as she had sped up to pass us she hit the brakes, rolled down her window and started chewing us out.
Marcy chuckled at her computer screen. The wife was scouting upcoming runs, triathlons, bike rides — anything that might provide a carrot for getting out and training. “The Grueling Triathlon of Doom,” she said, letting me in on the joke.
Grueling Triathlon of Doom? Such truth in advertising, I thought. Triathletes are well-conditioned not to view what they do as “grueling,” nor to entertain notions of “doom.” My mind raced; shortly, my fingers followed, on my own keyboard to see what this Grueling Triathlon of Doom was all about.
Things I might be doing this Easter weekend if my nose wasn’t running like a Delta Tau Chi keg from spring allergies.
1. Paddle at Merchant’s Millpond
Merchant’s Millpond may be man made, but after 190 years the millpond has shed most signs of its civilized past. Today, the 760-acre millpond is much more coastal swamp than center of commerce. The pond’s dark, acidic waters meander through a forest of bald cypress and tupelo gums dripping with Spanish moss. Cooters, snapping turtles. water snakes and a host of vocal frogs add to this aquatic adventure, which is as easy as plunking down $5 for a canoe (for the first hour, $3 each additional hour). Easy paddling, no previous experience in a boat required.
Sunday, I was running the bike and bridle trail at Umstead when I came upon a sizable obstacle: a phalanx of hikers bearing backpacks spanned the width of the trail, spilling over onto the shoulders. The trail is quiet generous, a converted fire road that should be capable of handling boatloads of trail users without conflict. Provided those trail users are cognizant of other trails. Which brings us to today’s topic: