Summary of 10.15-11.05 and Reflections on

Summary

I carpooled with Logan up to LEAF. It was cloudy Friday and Saturday. Contra dancing was wonderful, though I caught the passion of it more on Friday and felt only occasionally on Saturday. I did not enjoy having to volunteer on Sunday (not proud to say, but this schedule was agreed to prior to the festival). It was not in the Spirit of the Sabbath, and I made a resolve to never go to an event that would compromise that. I missed church due to an error on my clock.

(Monday 10.19) I walked to Black Mountain monday morning to get a bolt for my bicycle. I camped on Beaucatcher Mountain that night. (Tuesday 10.20) I biked into downtown Asheville in the morning, and camped alongside the Blue Ridge Parkway that night (mm 382). (Wednesday 10.21)I mostly walked to Mt. Mitchell the next day, on account of the continuous uphill slope, except the last 5 miles which were mostly downhill and when I got a 5-mile boost from a couple in a truck (in order to set up camp along the park's trail before dark). (Thursday 10.22) In the morning, I hiked Mount Mitchell, had my picture taken by a nice couple from Florida, then biked mostly downhill all the way back to Asheville, had the time of my life dancing contra at Warren Wilson, prancing and clapping through the sore shoulders and aching legs. I stayed at the Skroski's house, because I could go no longer and needed a day's rest (had I paced myself a little more, this wouldn't have been necessary). Saturday, I prepared to be on my way, and explored the backwoods trails between their house and the BRP. The colors were beautiful and upclose in the valley. Riceville was in perfect color this time of year. By this point, the most majestic views had been seen and the majority of the tears of awe, joy, or melancholy had been shed. I biked south on the BRP towards where it goes into the Nantahalla National Forest (where one can camp anywhere on it, so long as it is 100 paces from a road and 50 feet from a trail or water source, which translates into a lot less pressure to make a certain location by nightfall). It was a very nice night.

(Sunday 10.25) My bicycle got a flat, and I foolishly did not check to see if everything was in good order with my bike before I ended my travels for the day. I only got to church (5 miles away from my campsite) by the grace of a newlywed LDS couple in Arden. I spent the day with a man named David Dunbar, who fixes bikes for a hobby. He helped me out and sent me on my way. (Monday 10.26) After being dropped off at mm399, a bit beyond where I set up camp Saturday night, I continued and set up camp early, desiring rest. The next day was drizzly, and I set up camp 1000ft or so up the MTS trail very early near mm414 to get out of the rain. I left my bike at the trailhead, not taking time to secure it. The only thing that mattered was getting out of the rain. This is how the bike was stolen. I left it unattended overnight. (Wednesday 10.28) The clouds were below me, and a few peaks jutted out from the clouds. It was a pleasant sight as I walked to the nearest lookout point to proposition a ride to where Brother Dunbar could pick me up. Over the next two days, he took one of his many bikes in the garage and fixed it up, then drove me out to mm414 Thursday night. I gave him twenty dollars for all of his help (ten for the bike, which is the price he usually sells them for at the flea market, and ten for all of the miles he drove in my assistance). I wish I could have given him more.

(Friday 10.30) Bike rides like a champ. It was overcast again the next morning. Rather, the cloud was on the mountainside. I biked to Graveyard Fields (mm 418), enjoyed the dismal beauty of the fields, and had lunch atop Devil's Courthouse (mm 422). I biked down 215, heading out to 281, where I'd see Hwy 11, Lake Jocassee, and all the wonderful memories they brought of my first lone wanderings. However, after the bike's back wheel became wobbly, and I could not fix it, I decided to just head into the Piedmont and see if I could get help fixing it in Clemson. It was a perpetually showering and overcast Friday and Saturday, and at that point, I was much ready to end my journeys. The cloud sucked the beauty out of the land, and while going down 281 and SC 107 to 130, there was nothing to behold but grey. In order to be in Clemson by Sunday and to get to church (which I promised to myself I'd do. I was very regretful at placing myself in a situation where I was unable to keep the Sabbath, such as being at LEAF), I had to ask the help of a friend in Clemson to come some 20 miles to pick me up. I then stayed with someone at Clemson House.

(Sunday 11.1) Church had such a sweet spirit, and I enjoyed the time I spent with the YSAs I had just met. The CES Fireside was very heartwarming and laughter-filled. Monday I searched for a more-reliable back tire (Daryll loaned me a tire that belonged to his room-mate) in Anderson. Tuesday, I tested the back tire, riding up to Hwy 11, Table Rock, and Lake Jocassee, but did not foresee the tire wall giving out. Unfortunately, I required more help in transportation to get back to Clemson. (Wednesday 11.4) The next day, I packed the last of my things in my backpack and took a bus to Anderson, then rode some 40 miles to get to Ninety-Six. I then biked nearly 80 miles to Orangeburg, and instead of laying my tarp out in a cornfield, I accepted a ride back home from my sister. I had come this far, I'm sure I would have easily finished it with a laid-back start in the morning and 10-mile-at-a-time pacing.

Reflection

I rolled into Charleston dirt-broke (.37 in my bank account and pennies in my pocket), just the way I wanted it. This, the fact I mostly completed my trip home on bike, and the first four days (Monday-Thursday. Oh, beautiful beautiful Thursday. Singing from the high, blustery ridges of mountains, and Contra dancing at Warren Wislon, bringing me out near-collapsing from exhaustion, re-energizing my soul, and catching the passion) were about the only things that fully pleased me. I felt the first four days were the only genuine ones. After staying at someone's house for a well deserved rest, it wasn't the same. I was not fully equipped with the knowledge to deal with the problems that arrived in my way (I knew how to replace a tire, and change a tire wall, and I brought replacement tubes and the tools to do all of that, as well as a ratchet and all the sizes needed for any nut on my bike. I did not realize a back tire rim axle would break from just sharp turns). I did not enjoy requiring so much assistance when my bike was only useful for riding downhill. Bike troubles most certainly spoiled the last half of this adventure. My original plan was to enjoy Oconee county (most northwestern county in SC), then head back up and bike in northern Georgia, but after seeing that my new bike might keep breaking, I realized that my wanderings were over, and that it would be smartest to head down and make a beeline for home. I figured I should make the best of this situation, and because I loosely planned to visit friends in upstate SC on my way back, I should stop in Clemson for a few days and just not focus on what went wrong, but make whatever positive experience I could. My alone period ended as I came down from the mountains. That was Friday, October 30th. I wish I could have afforded a better bike, or that I knew how to approach every situation on my own, but I could only have done so much. Though it frustrates me in part to know I had to receive so much help, I thank each and every one of you that helped me get from point A to B to C and so forth, especially David Dunbar, who made absolutely sure I got home by bike. There was always the option to call my parents to come get me, and option they told me not to hesitate to use. I would not do that. Although I had to be rescued 20 miles out twice, I did the best I could with the problems that arose. There were a few instances where I fell victim to my own carelessness, such as the flat tire in Arden, or the faulty tire wall 20 miles north of Clemson, and, of course, the stolen bike. I again give thanks to everyone who assisted me, though I personally thank them as well.


This will probably happen again, and next time I'll know how to address every problem that might occur. I will also have my own camera.