Asheville, NC, The Enka Triathlon, and Cades Cove, TN
Driving from Atlanta to Asheville NC can take one of two routes-I prefer the slightly slower but more scenic drive up through Gainesville and Route 441. This route leads into mountainous territory much faster and, for me, calms my mind more quickly.
My son, Sam, and I left on an Wednesday morning with a car full of camping equipment and two bicycles carried in the trailer hitch mounted Saris bike rack. We left just before lunch so that we could stop at one of my favorite Bar-B-Que restaurants--Mickey Piggs in Alto, Georgia.
The restaurant is great place to pull off the road for a meal and to rest. It is about one-and-half hours drive from Atlanta. The restaurant was started in 1994 by Barbara and Jerry Smith to serve locals and the traveling public; the great BBQ and desserts are still being served by their sons. If the BBQ is worth stopping for, the desserts by themselves are worth the drive up. Sam had a sundae that looked like a small mound of ice cream. Needless to say, he could not eat it all and I just had to finish it for him. We drove another two-and-a-half hours north to Asheville.
Asheville is the home of my family. Many of my ancestors arrived here in the 1700s when this part of the country was the wild frontier. I love coming back to western North Carolina not only see family, but to enjoy the many outdoor activities this part of the country offers. This visit was for seeing family, the Enka Triathlon, and camping.
The Enka Triathlon at Biltmore Lake was my third triathlon of the summer. Another moderately rated sprint distance that offered a 750 meter swim in the very calm Biltmore Lake, a hilly 17 mile bike ride, and a 3.1 mile run around the lake. On Thursday, at the recommendation of my new coach-Tony Meyers of ATS in Atlanta-I rode my bike on most of the course to get a feel for it. I am glad I did. If you have ever been to the mountains, you know many of the country roads have switchbacks (180 degree climbing/descending turns). This race course had many of them and included many steep ones. If a rider carried too much speed into one of these descending turns, he or she would easily depart the road. Several riders did.
The Saturday morning race went well--I finished fourth in my age group. I had a great swim and came out of the water second in my group. The bike and run went well also. I have hired Tony to help improve my biking and running. Tony coaches many professional and amateur athletes and believes in long distance, high intensity training. As the summer goes along, I hope to write about my improvements brought about by my training under him.
My dad, Sam, and I left for a camping trip in Cades Cove Tennessee on Sunday. Driving on US 40 to exit into Sevierville TN (home of Dolly Parton) offers a fantastic view of the hugh amounts of hardwood forest of the Smoky Mountain National Park and former Cherokee Indian hunting grounds. It is a slow drive once you exit the freeway due to the curvy two way roads--but again, it offers a further chance to calm your mind from the bustle of a busy life.
From Sevierville, Cades Cove is reached by following 321 along the meandering stream flowing down from the mountains. Turn off the air conditioner in your car and enjoy the cool mountain air and the smell of unpolluted air. You are stepping back in time to another place that is far different from today's existence. At the end of the road, you arrive into a lush, beautiful valley surrounded by 5500 foot mountains. It is both breathtaking and spiritual to see one of God's most beautiful creations.
Settlers came here in 1820 after the land was acquired from the Cherokee by treaty. The first reference to Cades Cove appears when John Smith and William Crowson petitioned Tennessee for entry rights to which they held North Carolina land grants. The first grant was registered in 1820 to William Tipton for 640 acres as an assignee of Aaron Crowson (William's son).
By 1850, the population of the 6,800 acre Cove was 685. It was a time when community meant helping one another without interfering in another's business; when people lived each day as it came; they solved most problems with their own minds and hands; they lived off nature and in harmony with it; there were few extremes in poverty or wealth or social class; and law enforcement was personal and applied with common sense.
We settled into our camp site, pitched our tent and set up our "kitchen" for dinner. Surrounded by trees, the buzz of the 17-year cicada, the birds singing, but mostly quiet, dad cooked our steaks and fixed our salads. We cleaned up and lit a camp fire as the dark slowly overtook the day--we ended it early after roasting marsh mellows over the fire; this is living! Of all the manmade cathedrals in the world that I have seen in my travels that have been built by the mightiest of powers, there is NOTHING like the simplicity and raw beauty of nature.
The next morning, we awoke to a natural alarm clock--the singing of birds welcoming the sun. Climbing out of our tent, we were surrounded by deer feeding off the grass around us. The deer have become accustomed to the campers and are not afraid of them--there were five or six doe with one buck close by in the woods. We fixed coffee, eggs and bacon and enjoyed the grazing animals. Afterwards, Sam and I rode our bikes around the eleven mile loop on the outskirts of the park. We stopped about three miles into it to watch a black bear feed on grubs in a decaying log. He paid little attention to us as he went about his breakfast. We continued on and spotted wild turkey, blue birds, many more deer, and groundhogs.
I dropped Sam off at the camp to go with my dad on his photo shoot--he loves nature and making pictures of it all. He was in his element here--he always says he was born 100 years too late. He would have loved the Cove of the mid nineteenth century. I continued to ride the loop two more times for a total of 33 miles--my training for the day. For the rest of the day, we relaxed amid the trees and pileated woodpeckers--a new insight into life takes over under these surroundings. I found myself letting go of things that matter little and focusing on bigger qualities of beauty and truth. For me, the grandeur of nature offers true insight into our being--its law is pure, consequences follow all actions, nobility is absolute, and corrections always take place when mistakes are made.
We packed up the next day after hiking and driving around some of the cove and streams. We slowly entered civilization again and within a two hours were being greeted by several uptight drivers in a hurry to no where. But one of the best advancements of the modern world is Starbucks Coffee--we stopped for a cup of their boldest brew. Further up the road, we stopped to visit the Tennessee Museum of Aviation. If you are an aviation buff or enjoy military history, I highly recommend the museum. A highlight of the visit was meeting Ben Ragsdale and his daughter--he was a P-47 pilot during World War II and had flown many missions over Germany from bases in England and France. Sam was mesmerized and my dad full of pride with the man's service to our country. It was a fitting end to a perfect week in the mountains.
My son, Sam, and I left on an Wednesday morning with a car full of camping equipment and two bicycles carried in the trailer hitch mounted Saris bike rack. We left just before lunch so that we could stop at one of my favorite Bar-B-Que restaurants--Mickey Piggs in Alto, Georgia.
The restaurant is great place to pull off the road for a meal and to rest. It is about one-and-half hours drive from Atlanta. The restaurant was started in 1994 by Barbara and Jerry Smith to serve locals and the traveling public; the great BBQ and desserts are still being served by their sons. If the BBQ is worth stopping for, the desserts by themselves are worth the drive up. Sam had a sundae that looked like a small mound of ice cream. Needless to say, he could not eat it all and I just had to finish it for him. We drove another two-and-a-half hours north to Asheville.
Asheville is the home of my family. Many of my ancestors arrived here in the 1700s when this part of the country was the wild frontier. I love coming back to western North Carolina not only see family, but to enjoy the many outdoor activities this part of the country offers. This visit was for seeing family, the Enka Triathlon, and camping.
The Enka Triathlon at Biltmore Lake was my third triathlon of the summer. Another moderately rated sprint distance that offered a 750 meter swim in the very calm Biltmore Lake, a hilly 17 mile bike ride, and a 3.1 mile run around the lake. On Thursday, at the recommendation of my new coach-Tony Meyers of ATS in Atlanta-I rode my bike on most of the course to get a feel for it. I am glad I did. If you have ever been to the mountains, you know many of the country roads have switchbacks (180 degree climbing/descending turns). This race course had many of them and included many steep ones. If a rider carried too much speed into one of these descending turns, he or she would easily depart the road. Several riders did.
The Saturday morning race went well--I finished fourth in my age group. I had a great swim and came out of the water second in my group. The bike and run went well also. I have hired Tony to help improve my biking and running. Tony coaches many professional and amateur athletes and believes in long distance, high intensity training. As the summer goes along, I hope to write about my improvements brought about by my training under him.
My dad, Sam, and I left for a camping trip in Cades Cove Tennessee on Sunday. Driving on US 40 to exit into Sevierville TN (home of Dolly Parton) offers a fantastic view of the hugh amounts of hardwood forest of the Smoky Mountain National Park and former Cherokee Indian hunting grounds. It is a slow drive once you exit the freeway due to the curvy two way roads--but again, it offers a further chance to calm your mind from the bustle of a busy life.
From Sevierville, Cades Cove is reached by following 321 along the meandering stream flowing down from the mountains. Turn off the air conditioner in your car and enjoy the cool mountain air and the smell of unpolluted air. You are stepping back in time to another place that is far different from today's existence. At the end of the road, you arrive into a lush, beautiful valley surrounded by 5500 foot mountains. It is both breathtaking and spiritual to see one of God's most beautiful creations.
Settlers came here in 1820 after the land was acquired from the Cherokee by treaty. The first reference to Cades Cove appears when John Smith and William Crowson petitioned Tennessee for entry rights to which they held North Carolina land grants. The first grant was registered in 1820 to William Tipton for 640 acres as an assignee of Aaron Crowson (William's son).
By 1850, the population of the 6,800 acre Cove was 685. It was a time when community meant helping one another without interfering in another's business; when people lived each day as it came; they solved most problems with their own minds and hands; they lived off nature and in harmony with it; there were few extremes in poverty or wealth or social class; and law enforcement was personal and applied with common sense.
We settled into our camp site, pitched our tent and set up our "kitchen" for dinner. Surrounded by trees, the buzz of the 17-year cicada, the birds singing, but mostly quiet, dad cooked our steaks and fixed our salads. We cleaned up and lit a camp fire as the dark slowly overtook the day--we ended it early after roasting marsh mellows over the fire; this is living! Of all the manmade cathedrals in the world that I have seen in my travels that have been built by the mightiest of powers, there is NOTHING like the simplicity and raw beauty of nature.
The next morning, we awoke to a natural alarm clock--the singing of birds welcoming the sun. Climbing out of our tent, we were surrounded by deer feeding off the grass around us. The deer have become accustomed to the campers and are not afraid of them--there were five or six doe with one buck close by in the woods. We fixed coffee, eggs and bacon and enjoyed the grazing animals. Afterwards, Sam and I rode our bikes around the eleven mile loop on the outskirts of the park. We stopped about three miles into it to watch a black bear feed on grubs in a decaying log. He paid little attention to us as he went about his breakfast. We continued on and spotted wild turkey, blue birds, many more deer, and groundhogs.
I dropped Sam off at the camp to go with my dad on his photo shoot--he loves nature and making pictures of it all. He was in his element here--he always says he was born 100 years too late. He would have loved the Cove of the mid nineteenth century. I continued to ride the loop two more times for a total of 33 miles--my training for the day. For the rest of the day, we relaxed amid the trees and pileated woodpeckers--a new insight into life takes over under these surroundings. I found myself letting go of things that matter little and focusing on bigger qualities of beauty and truth. For me, the grandeur of nature offers true insight into our being--its law is pure, consequences follow all actions, nobility is absolute, and corrections always take place when mistakes are made.
We packed up the next day after hiking and driving around some of the cove and streams. We slowly entered civilization again and within a two hours were being greeted by several uptight drivers in a hurry to no where. But one of the best advancements of the modern world is Starbucks Coffee--we stopped for a cup of their boldest brew. Further up the road, we stopped to visit the Tennessee Museum of Aviation. If you are an aviation buff or enjoy military history, I highly recommend the museum. A highlight of the visit was meeting Ben Ragsdale and his daughter--he was a P-47 pilot during World War II and had flown many missions over Germany from bases in England and France. Sam was mesmerized and my dad full of pride with the man's service to our country. It was a fitting end to a perfect week in the mountains.
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