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Dubsvalk
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« on: June 15, 2012, 06:13:35 AM » |
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I penned this the day before our Hillbilly gathering in Marion. I hope you like it.
Tomorrow morning I will hoist my leg over the two wheeled beast and point her head North to Marion, Va. Saturday morning a 100 or so of us will ride into the West Virginia hills. To the land of fresh air, smokey blue mountains, fog gently rising from the valley floors, fading into the warm morning sun. Maitwan and the Molly Mcguires, Williamson and the Hatfields and McCoys, Coal Field and Rocket Man, home of Chuck Yeager, Jerry West and Bernie Watkins! A hundred bikes will crawl their way into the West, Virginia coal fields, visiting, Bishop, Big Creek, War, Coal Field, Welch, Maitland, Keystone, Northfork, Bramwell, Bluewell, Bluefield and other obscure dots on the map that used to be thriving communities. A place where bald eagles still soar high and proud, deer and cattle graze together in high mountain pastures and sip from the same cool, fresh streams with beginnings high in the lofty peaks of the Blueridge. I'm going home for a brief respite where fond memories abide. Where the heart beats faster and the brow lines fade as the tension from a hectic world is devoured by this special place of places. The roar of our bike's exhaust will herald the return of a son, trumpet his arrival, announce his presence and, sadly, his departure. Ah, Beautiful West Virginia, you haunt my memories and I will always love you! Dubs
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