[at-l] Five

[athiker at smithville.net (Felix)]

Day five started out early. We were up and ready to go while darkness was still 
hanging on, fighting that pre-dawn gray. We said goodbye to our nice site (c-
20, I think) and mounted our steeds.

Right as we got to the Parkway an orange sliver of the sun made its way above 
the mountained horizon. The beautiful oranges and reds and pinks that filled 
the sky above the purple mountains are but a glare in the photos taken of them. 
The way it should be, I suppose. Enjoy that moment then and as a memory 
forever. 

We headed south on the Parkway. The morning was beautiful. My favorite times 
were that first hour of everyday, excepting Roanoke Day. That mountain air, 
crisp and fresh and golden yellow, oh, that mountain air. 

We had a nice little downhill ride for about 9 miles to Mabry Mill. We were 
there not long after they opened and it was a good thing. By the time we were 
done with breakfast there was a line out the door to get our table.

Our server's name was Phylis and she was a pistol. Her way of telling us that 
our order was about ready was by saying "I'm gettin' ready to small that table 
for ya." I liked Phylis. She was lively and fun. I'd say I didn't like her as 
much as I did the beyond middle-aged black woman at Otter Creek. But, I liked 
her plenty.  

Pilot got herself a big ol' plate of buckwheat pancakes, dismissing Phylis's 
warning of their size and weight. Based on how much buckwheat pancake was left, 
I'd say Pilot liked 'em just fine. 

We walked around the mill for a minute or two. It was quickly becoming crowded 
and I was wanting to get going. We went inside the mill and on the desk was a 
copy of Harvey Manning's book "Backpacking One Step at a Time". This was the 
book that got me started backpacking. Or, at least it's where I learned the 
most about it. 

So, we struck up a conversation with the mill operator and found him to be a 
very, very nice guy. His name was not Phylis. 

We headed on our way, stopping here and there. It seems that we were making 
good time and having a good time doing so. We stopped for a break at Groundhog 
Mountain where I struck up a conversation with an old man outside the restroom. 

He was a nice old guy, reminding me a good deal of my grandfather before his 
mind was as far gone as it is now. He said lots of things that made me smile 
remembering the past.

His name was Kenneth Tuttle and he lives in Walkerton, NC. Right off Route 8. 
His wife was with him and had to drive because his vision wasn't what it used 
to be. His hearing neither. 

He got to talking about camping and the like. Mentioned Maggie Valley for some 
reason. I told him that I have friends in Maggie Valley and that we were hoping 
to see them at the end of our bike ride. 

He asked me who my friends are, thinking he might know them. I assured him that 
he didn't. He persisted. The fact is, the only name I could think of 
was 'Sheltowee'. I couldn't say "My friend's name is Sheltowee" to this 
guy. 'Rogers...' it's something 'Rogers'.  "Dan...Dan Rogers is his name"

"I never heared tale of 'im", he said. I thought not. 

He went on to somehow work in the fact that he liked Cody, Wyoming because 
there 'ain't no colored people there.' As they were getting ready to leave, the 
woman gave us hugs and Kenneth shook, and held, my hand. I'm pretty sure he's 
someone's papaw. 

After a little lunch we headed on to Fancy Gap. It was a good day in 
the 'uphill to downhill' ratio department and we made good time and felt good 
doing it. That didn't mean we were any less hungry when we got to the 
restaurant in Fancy Gap. 

The place had an odd feel to it from outside. I wasn't sure how well they were 
gonna like our spandex and flash. Let's go in and find out. 

The table cloths had sunflower prints. How bad can a place be with sunflower 
print table cloths? 

For some weird reason, I ordered a hotdog. yes, a hotdog. I think I got fries, 
too. But, I ordered a hotdog, for some reason. 

While we waited for the hotdogs we ordered, a man walking past said "I saw you 
goin' off and leavin' her." Apparently he and his wife had past us early. Also 
apparently it was on a downhill as that is the only place I was going faster 
than Pilot. I made some remark that she had caught me again, or some such, and 
we all laughed and laughed. 

Another man walking by said that he'd seen us and almost stopped because he 
thought there'd been an accident. I think that was during one of the occasions 
that we were seeing how much of the roadside grass we could shade from that 
warm October sun. I thanked him for his concern and assured him that we were 
just napping.

At some point during the hotdog-eating, a couple of families came in together. 
They had three little girls with them. The girls were probably between the ages 
of 6 and 9 and guessing by the looks they gave our clothes, had never seen 
cyclists up close. They sat at a table not far from us and the three girls were 
very well-behaved and quiet. After we finished our hotdogs...of all things to 
have ordered...we were getting ready to leave. I took three dollar bills over 
and gave one to each of the girls and told them that since they had been so 
good while we were there, we wanted to buy their dessert. you'd have thought we 
bought them a new car. 

Back on the Parkway with 18 miles to our destination: Cumberland Knob Visitor 
Center. That is where we left our car a few days earlier when Southpaw shuttled 
us. The sky was overcast most of the way. but, no rain fell other than 
sprinkles as we were getting in the car. 217 miles done now. 

We changed out clothes and I took a stand-up bath in the men's room. We were 
heading to Marion, NC for to visit Ed Speers and Pog for the evening. We had a 
wonderful time there. We did laundry, showered, ate grilled chicken!!, Ed and I 
fixed my leaky thermarest (which I haven't mentioned as being a problem before 
now simply because I am old and forgot to), had a really good berry concoction 
for dessert (what is that called, Pog?) and just had a nice time all the way 
around. 

That's all for Day 5...there are some pix of this day at...hmmmm....
gallery.backcountry.net/BRP 

-- 
Felix J. McGillicuddy
ME-->GA '98
"Your Move"
http://Felixhikes.tripod.com