Some rides just turn out more special than others. I don't know how they happen to fall into place. It's probably a simple combination of a bright day, good roads, and a bike that perfectly fits the mood. I don't think it's ever a good idea to ask too many questions about what makes it a special event, but I do think it should be enjoyed throughly.

Yesterday I had one of those days. And at the exact moment I realized it I started giggling like a four year old! I had just turned from NC-274 onto NC-27 and caught my first good glimpse of the Blue Ridge mountains, about 40 miles to the west. There wasn't any traffic on the road and the sky had just cleared itself of the morning overcast into a brilliant blue; punctuated by the autumn sun, racing with me toward the west. Between the spasms of laughter I found myself commenting out loud just what a beautiful sight it was. "YEEHAA! Damn, this is a BEAUTIFUL day!"

I wasn't worried over the fact that nobody could hear me, or that the shouts and laughter echoing within my helmet cavity might be a confirmation of oncoming dimentia. I didn't care one bit. And that fed the fires of my temporary insanity. I kept laughing, often standing up on the pegs and just letting the breeze take my joy into the trees and across the creeks that seemed to be everywhere. What could be any better than this?

The fact that I was miles from nowhere and nearly out of fuel didn't concern me. It was a day that serendipity ruled and I knew a gas station would pop up soon enough. I came to a stop sign and had to make a decision between fuel and an interesting road that pointed toward South Mountains State Park. Heck, I want to visit the park, but the fuel IS NECESSARY. I made the left and with a few miles found the only gas station in Casar, North Carolina, a tiny hamlet on NC-10.

There wasn't anything that could spoil this day, and I was resigned to the fact that I would pay through the nose for fuel and probably not even get a smile from the attendant. Boy, the mood of the special day just kept getting better. As I rolled up to the pump of the old station I noticed three older men just sitting on a wooden bench, and they were watching intently as I got off and put the old SilverWing onto the center stand. The oldest of the group smiled and said, "Almost the end of the riding season for you guys, ain't it?" I explained that, at least for a Yankee like me, the season never ended in North Carolina.

At that point I noticed the gas price was actually lower than I had been paying in the metro Charlotte area. BONUS! As I turned to pay for the fuel I noticed a few newspaper clippings taped to the windows of the building. Honest, one of the clippings was proudly describing the Casar High School basketball team of 1949! Another clipping showed another three old men on a smiliar wooden bench. The photo had been taken just up the street nearly 40 years previous. Seems nothing much changes in Casar.

Before departing I asked the younger of the three which way he would go if he were riding today. On down NC-10 and over to NC-226, or up to the state park? He promptly replied, "To the park, great roads up that way!" The other guys chimed in and said the park had a neat waterfall to visit. Serendipity prevailed again and I turned back toward the park, about 14 miles away.

I wasn't disappointed at all. The park is off a road called Wards Gap and the first thing you see is a road sign that proclaims it's going to be twisty for the next 2.5 miles. The laughter started again and I couldn't stop till I reached the parking lot at the end of the road. The nearly deserted lot was my first clue that even this little rest and walk to the falls would be special. As I took off my helmet the sound of rushing water filled my ears, and would stay with me for the next two hours as I trekked up to High Shoals Falls.

An article on the park will appear soon in the 'Destinations' section, so I'll not hit you with my oohs and ahhs here. But I will say that although the walk is tough, it really is worthwhile. The elevation rises about 500 feet or more in less than a mile and at the end you are treated to a spectacular 80 foot cascade of water. And it's all provided free of charge; courtesy of Mother Nature and the State of North Carolina.

The path was nearly deserted and the folks that I did meet along the way were very friendly and seemed eager to share a moment of their day and a smile or two. On the way back out to the bike I talked with a fisherman from Colorado. He had snagged three Brook trout and two Rainbows while I was walking. One of the trout was 16 inches! Hey, I may have to come back here with a rod and try my luck. But the road beckoned and it was getting late in the afteroon, there was little time to spend swapping lies with a fisherman.

I turned to follow Wards Gap to it's end, and that dropped me onto old NC-18. A quick look at my map confirmed it would take me into Morganton, where I could get some much needed food. The hike to the falls had taken more energy than I had anticipated and I had to remind myself that diabetics, even ones new to the game like myself, couldn't expect to keep a great day going if some basic needs were not met.

But, then the laughter returned! Holy cow, old NC-18 IS A GREAT ROAD! Lightly traveled and well maintained, it seemed to dare me to push the little Honda and see just how far my confidence would take me. Within moments I was diving into sharp turns at 70 mph and being spit out the far side - three gears lower and 40 mph slower! My knees were tight against the tank and my butt sliding fast across the saddle as I leaned deeply to the left and immediately to the right. I found the rhythm of the asphalt trail and with each successful run through the gears I put the past few months of stress further and further behind me.

I quickly gained the city limits of Morganton and found a chicken joint at an interchange on I-40. Before going in I phoned my wife. "Hey, Dear, I just want you to know - If I die before I get home, I died happy!" I literally gulped down a sandwich because I didn't want to waste any daylight. Within minutes I was back on old NC-18, heading southbound and leaning with abandon into the curves.

All things must come to an end, and so it was with my great ride. Just 20 miles down the road old NC-18 merges back to the new road and it's sedate compared to the old route. I noticed a motorcycle shop just a couple of miles below the merge and decide to drop in and say hello. Ralph Green and his newphew Steve are Michigan boys and have a nice shop at the north end of Cleveland County. As I walked in I shouted, "Damn! Old 18 is a GREAT ROAD!" Ralph looks at me like I'm tokin' something and says, "You haven't been on 181 have you?"

With that, we exchanged a few minutes of advice about the foothills of the Blue Ridge. He suggested that I go back up the new road until it turns to NC-181. "That will take you right into the Blue Ridge, but you've got to like curves," said Ralph. Well, daylight is almost gone so I can't run it today. Fall isn't over and I want to video tape this one so the next warm day on the calendar will find me back in the foothills, heading northwest into the Blue Ridge. Keep an eye out for me. I'll be the guy standing on his pegs, screaming out, "YEEE HAAAAAAAAA! DAMN! THIS IS A GREAT ROAD!"

Remember, "Ride today - Tommorow you may not be able!"

-LW