Snow to Sand. One melts in your oatmeal, the other... doesn't.

Like a clumsy kid in a play falling off the back of the stage. We've butt plopped off the mountains and are squishing our toes in the flat, sandy South East. Traded in the snowflakes for mosquitoes and shivers for sunburn. As sure as my cheese is now oily I'm happy as an oven mitt to be out here rolling in the warmth.
   A Fantastic clash of dude, bike and swamp just went down in the Okefenokee. Davie Hogan (my bike) and I cleaved through victorious and are now just a day er so from good ol' Gainsville FL.

From snow straight into sand these oinkers earn their keep

no traffic to speak of at this roadside campspot

where Pac-people retire from the maze

The begging of Okefenokee swamp  

The swamp living up to expectations

Not exactly 5th and Broadway, NYC. 

  

Whack... You are now in the south.

 Out of North Carolina I nipped the corner of South Carolina and rolled into Georgia. Abruptly and suddenly we crossed the line and are now in "The South". Accents, big trucks and swamps sprung up with a BANG.  

Still North of Asheville

Epic tunes for mountain climbs

The holy coffee grail of southern dirt roads

The Asheville Lasso

So we've been in Ashville, NC. Some boob kinda locked himself out of his blog for a while but that's ok, we're back.  Davie and I have literary been assaulted with great folks and comfort in this little haven. Yes, physically held down and pummeled with awesome.  Like some unloaded trail ripping, a ride with hundreds of others at the "bike of the Irish" on St. Patty's and a warm house to chill with some gracious friends and a fetch-aholic dog.  I was actually on my way out of town once, way back a few days ago but ended up with 3 jobs. So much for sneaking out of town. I worked for two days with Peter doing masonry work and then a fill in day at Pro Bikes. The option to do some land surveying with good ol' Brad was available but I had to stomp this out before things got out of control. South America is not riding towards me.
   We'll continue the ride report from the outside, I gotta get off this rock. Gotta hack out of this joint.

A huge and fat thanx, farewell and see ya to Matt, Carriedell and Hedi dog. You guys are the greatest.
  I also received a package of amazing homemade cookies sent from the remarkable Sarah Womer. I wish I could have stopped eating them so that I would still have some so I could eat them all again.   

A Rough Cut of Part 1- A clamor from the Virginia backwoods

I left the farm country and a group of head shakers in Ottobine. SR742 became 933. The going got good at 225 Union Springs and the snow met me at 85/ 85A. This was a trickle of a dirt road that met a strip of pavement at an out look for the Shenandoah Mountain. Back to dirt it met the 95 at the Little River.  That Junction was the start of a fantastic, long squiggle of Shenanadoah Trail. This borders the Ramsey Draft wilderness and divides Highland and Augusta Countys. Bikes are not legal in the wilderness area so I was advised to "ride on right side of the trail".   

   I met a friendly dude named Ben running up the Road Hollow trail.  Hwy 250 and some coffee at the Market in West Agusta. Down Paved 629 towards Deerfield. I overshot the turn I wanted (173 Benson Rd.) and ended up taking 399 toward Wallace Peak. This route should be avoided unless you happen to carry a chainsaw and stilts. But it eventually got me back up to the ridge and down trail 447 past the Sister Knobs. A Ralph on SR627 Scotchtown Draft a Louie on paved SR625, eventually leading off on SR624-> SR609.  Swing left at the Bath Alum windsock on a nip of hwy39 and turn onto SR629. This is where I was spared the "stumble-a-bike" of Little Mare trail and breezed the rideable route into Douthat State park. As the name Suggests you should really "Do that". Beards gap got me to Stoney run  up to Middle Mountain Trail. I hit Clfton Forge for supplies, a Pizza feast and a stay at The Red Lantern Inn.  Back up the SR606 and south onto the Fore MTn Trail. A stupid fun Decent plopped me onto a frontage road of the I-64. At Low Moore I turned onto SR616 then 621. This was a scribbly rorschach of roads and I ended up missing a turn somewhere and got stuck on the West side of the Patterson range. Craig creek outlines the bottom of this ripple and several dirt roads frustratingly end at the river. Not wanting to retrace my tracks back up in a cold drizzle I stayed on SR615 into Newcastle. Off the 311 I turned back up 618 and took a right on 224 Wildlife Rd. Flopping back out on the 311- I dog-legged onto SR621 and pushed up for a stay at  The Pickles branch shelter on the AT. This was the end of map 2 of 4. So we will call that part 1.

Gnawing

 maintaining a high level of nutrition is essential

2 out of 3 ain't bad

It ain't the Hilton but what the hell.  Felt more like the Waldorf when the rain bucketed and the wind howled.

After

Before

P.S.I. (press slightly inward)

Its all about the right pressure....

 Too much and you are trying to ride in a jumpy castle full of obese ten year old's.

 Too little and your sloppy and wandering like being drunk on lighter fluid.

 Just the right amount and you are eating rocks like Cookie Monster and smiling like a satanist at a church burning

Warning!

If you feel the need to vomit when considering the out of doors or are a road cyclist who loathes the idea of off pavement riding? You may not want to look at this.

 

 huhhhh

ghaaarrr

 blllaaaawwww 

   Yea its pretty gross