Yesterday I rode another 275 mile. My primary objective was to go to Asheville to visit the Biltmore Estate. I had been reading about it for years. It's an 8,000 acre private estate build by George Vanderbilt in 1889. The 250 room manor is nestled into the Blue Ridge Mountains. The estate includes huge parks and gardens. The half mile drive into the ticket/info building is a half mile long and knocks your socks off.
I arrived at the Biltmore around 3:30 knowing that I had to leave by 5:00 to join the team at 7:00 for dinner. When they told me the only tickets they had left were $60 day passes, I turned around and left. A tough lesson. I had driven 180 miles and stayed for only ten minutes. I should have called ahead.
It wasn't a total loss. There was some nice back road riding along the way. Many of the roads that Eric and I have ridden around the country are indistinguishable from one another. They are sprinkled with occasional gas stations, small car lots, independent insurance agents, farm equipment dealers churches, etc. Yesterday's roads were no different, except for the intermittent stretches of rolling farm land.
Sometimes I play a mental game on these roads. I pretend that I don't know where I am and then assess the local landscape and conditions to determine the locale. Other than the sporadic town signs, there are usually few clues. The terrain, the temperature and the vegetation color help to narrow it down. Sometimes I go can go 30 minutes before spotting an identifying marker, as it was yesterday when I pulled in to watch the youth football practice at a school for the deaf and blind. A couple of the coaches were wearing Campobello, SC team shirts, confirming Campobello as the location.
Tomorrow's riding will be anything but routine. I will be heading to the Tail of the Dragon, an 11 mile stretch near the North Carolina - Tennessee border. It's listed by some websites as "America's #1 Motorcycle Rd." The sharper Dragon curves have nicknames for them. A couple of my favorites are Beginner's End, and Brake or Bust Bend. I'll try to take some photos and video.
This afternoon's riding is likely to be unnerving. Severe thunderstorms are forecasted for late-afternoon, just when I will be leaving Furman for my 160 mile trek through Smoky Mountain National Park to Robbinsville. I was already concerned about having to ride the last hour in the park at night. I now think it will be longer than that and on wet roads to boot.
I dealt with a short brush of heavy rain yesterday. I was riding on rte. 176 north of Spartanburg when a flash storm hit. The first place I could stop was four miles down the road at a strip mall in Inman, SC. I went into the Subway and asked the high school kid behind the counter whether the rain was supposed to continue for long. "I don't know" he said. "I just looked out the window and dang, it was raining." Dang. I think Gomer Pyle was the last person I heard utter that word.
I nursed a six-inch veggie sub on 9-grain wheat and a Gatorade until the rain subsided 20 minutes later. My suit and the roads dried out in a matter of minutes.
Last night, after a team dinner (take out Chicken Marcella and breadsticks from Olive Garden), we settled in for a film session. The coaches highlighted many "learning opportunities" from Friday's game, especially for the goalies and defensive backs. These coaches really know what they are talking about. They provided detailed evaluations of the technical and tactical aspects of Friday's individual and collective defensive performances. I'm thinking today's effort will be much improved.
I ended the night at the bar of the Japanese Steak House across the street where I had a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and watched Little League baseball on ESPN.
Time to pack. Happy Sunday everyone.
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