Sunday, May 14, 2017

Pine Log (imagine that)

I may have to start naming these after the specific place at Pine Log that I went, just to break up the monotony.

I was back there yesterday after re-gluing my shoe. It is now, officially, more goo than shoe. I hoped it would hold up, but the only way to tell was to ride and walk on it, and I planned on doing plenty of both.

On the way in, I ran into some folks from the Civil Air Patrol. I'd seen them last time too, just getting out of their vehicles, but this time they were on foot, already a ways back into the system.

I checked out some trails that I'd seen before, but hadn't followed. I had imagined where they might go though, and it turned out they went exactly there, basically connecting up with some stuff I'd ridden years and years ago.

The woods was really scenic back in there.


And in one spot there were lots of boulders.


And up on top, there were some gnarly rock formations.


And someone put a trash can way up there, in the middle of nowhere. Not even in a campsite, just randomly among the rocks.

Trash Can

The strangest thing was that it actually had trash in it - several powerade bottles. They looked like they'd been in there a long time.

I found this piece of trash too, but not in the can.


A squirrel or chipmunk had stuffed it full of acorns. I guess it was a good spot for that.

Somewhere back in there I saw, a ways off to my left, down a trail that I knew, a red and white tarp fluttering in the breeze. At first it looked like someone had set up an elaborate campsite and strung it up over their tents in case of rain. Later It occurred to me that it might be more Civil Air Patrol folks. Like maybe the first group had to rendezvous with the second group, and that's where they were set up.

Whoever it was, they were highly visible.

The previous weekend, I lost my glasses out on the Main Road when I crashed. Figuring they might still be lying in the brush, I rode back up to see.

On the way, I encountered this nice-sized timber rattler, sunning himself on the road.

Timber Rattler

The last rattler I encountered coiled up and rattled at me furiously when I got within 15 feet of it. This one was completely ambivalent. It didn't move any part of its body, any perceptible amount.

Ha ha!


My glasses were still there!

Consistently demonstrating: If you buy cheap glasses so that you don't mind if you lose them, then you'll never lose them.

Oh. Also, I saw 7 turkeys. Seven. Monday is either the last day of the season, or at least the last day to hunt them in that WMA. I'd seen a few up in the Cohuttas earlier this year, but none in Pine Log until yesterday. I was starting to wonder if there were any out there at all.

My shoe held up well. I guess it helps not to crash on it.

My body didn't hold up so well though. Earlier, I'd tried to sneak around the left end of a branch jutting out at me at thigh height, didn't make it, and ended up jabbing it really hard into my thigh. It wouldn't just cut me and slip past either, it just bent and bent, and when I moved enough to release it, it sprung back, directly into my groin. Come on! I'd basically used my leg to spring load it for a high-powered crotch attack. I couldn't have more precisely executed such a maneuver if I'd tried. Blood was already running down my thigh from some fairly jagged gashes and I feared my gentleman's materials might have sustained similar wounds. They hurt almost as badly, and I was a little scared to look. Thank god for bike shorts though, and the tiny little extra bit of protection they provide. It was just enough. I was completely uninjured. Downtown, at least. My leg was bleeding and bleeding, and looked bad at first, but it turned out it that those wounds were all superficial. All right!

Seems I can't get a ride in these days without some kind of calamity. I guess I'll have to make a specific effort to avoid it next time. I really need to break this streak.

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