Tour de Dixie (Part Two)

Tour de Dixie (Part Two)

With Elizabethton, TN, in the mirrors, we traveled down US 321 through Boone, NC, then continued on to Hickory. A nice, scenic, occasionally curvatious route, that suited this rider to a tee! I was exalting in the after-glow of having been with my very good friends riding around in the mountains for a few days, and I was celebrating life itself.

I sometimes wonder if I might actually be in a coma or something and merely dreaming all of this. In all my previous life, I’d never thought I’d be where I am, doing what I’m doing… and feeling so incredibly good about it. All that it has taken to get me to this point has been well worth the effort, pain and disappointment… Many times I’d wondered if life really could be this good… and now I know!

I even managed to navigate through Boone without missing a turn, thanks to the heads-up from Joe. Yep, it’d been several years since I’d actually ridden through this surprisingly bustling large town (small city?), and I’d forgotten about the route dipsy-doodles that will snare the unwary traveler. Thanks again, Joe!

In Hickory we jumped up on the super slab (I-40) and proceeded east towards Raleigh. My goal was to get just beyond Raleigh that day if possible, so the last part of the ride down to Morehead City the following day would be a really easy, back roads ride and a relatively short day. Traffic was heavy, but it was moving, so no real issues on that score… However…

There was a sign for a detour just south of Durham, so I followed it… I did miss out on road construction, but that route took me 30 or so miles out of my way (I may have missed a turn or two here). Anyway, we did make it south and a bit east of Raleigh, so mission accomplished… I got a room after dining under the Golden Arches once again, then it was time to return some phone calls.

My cousin in Morehead City (Nohead City as far as I’m concerned), had called several days before, inviting me over for his traditional New Year’s meal… He is a fantastic cook, and his offerings are always country cooking done just the way my mother (his aunt) and our grandmother had done it! I ain’t hard to catch, if you know what to bait the trap with… This just happens to be one of the two best things to use!!!

I’d told him at the time of my riding plans, so he’d volunteered to delay that special culinary event until my arrival… I called and confirmed my location and planned arrival the following day… All good… He then gave me a tantalizing preview of coming attractions: Roast beef and gravy, rice, field peas, and turnip greens, plus cornbread… and the fridge was full of beer. WOW!

We ain’t talking about canned veggies or instant cornbread mix here, either. No sir, he buys greens and boils them down himself, and you can bet the farm there will be a ham-hoc thrown in for good measure (all of his veggies are similarly seasoned). The cornbread is made from an old family recipe plus a couple of his own mystery ingredients and baked in an iron skillet… You could put a piece of that on my forehead, and I’d beat my brains out with my tongue!!!

Actually, merely eating that stuff ain’t all there is to the overall enjoyment. It starts with a fresh brew, as I stand to the side and watch him scurrying and flitting about in the kitchen setting everything out just right, pausing himself for a sip or two at regular intervals. My job, of course, is to stay out of his way and not hinder progress… and to replace empty cans or bottles as needed… I do that rather well, if I do say so myself.

I’m amazed at how really good cooks work! I couldn’t do it myself, but those who are truly talented have a knack for sequencing and timing of all the various steps with a rather impressive economy of effort. They somehow manage to have everything ready at the same time, too, hot and ready to serve… incredible!

Throughout the process, the combinations of subtle smells come together to produce an olfactory extravaganza that can only be described as near orgasmic! I spend much of my time during all of this shaking my head in wonder, wiping the drool off my chin, sipping my brew, and trying to be clever with the conversation that comes so easily for him, but that I find rather difficult because of all the wondrous distractions. I call this phase of the gastronomic event ‘dietary foreplay’ …

My cousin, Nick, and I go way back… I was a small preschooler when he was born, so I’ve known him all of his life. He and I played together as children, chased the gals together as young adults, and we were on the same line crew at the phone company before he went into the Army.

He ended up making the Army a career, so we only ran into each other sporadically until he retired, then we became real pals again… His wife had died and I’d become single again, so over the last couple of decades or so we’ve more or less evolved back to where we’d left off… In reality he’s more like a brother, I suppose, but biologically we’re cousins… His dad and my mother were brother and sister.

For the last couple of weeks, I’d been intently watching the weather forecasts… especially that for central Florida. I’d been wanting to visit my daughter and her family near Orlando, plus the Florida Valkers were planning a ride to an old familiar haunt in Alachua (near Gainesville) on the second Saturday following New Year’s Day, and I really wanted to make that ride.

I used to make many of their rides when I’d lived down there, plus I’m rather fond of Stogie burgers myself! Not to be… much rain was being predicted, so I made my apologies and modified my plans… to the extent I ever do actually plan anything… (Hint: I never buy green bananas!)

Nick had a downright plausible and palatable solution… Just hang out at his place… Heck, the big Bama game would be coming on the next Monday evening, and there was no need for me to risk missing it… That made perfect sense to me, so that became my selection…

On the Tuesday morning following the big game, the sun shone brightly and things looked most promising indeed! Except for the frosty temps, it was all I could have asked for… Cold was something I’d become all too familiar with on this outing… re-familiarized to be more precise, but obviously something to be expected when trekking this time of year. It was mighty tempting and it would have been really easy to have delayed departure for another day or two; but, according to the forecast, no let-up was in the offing for another couple of weeks…

Oh well, no pain, no gain, I reminded myself, so I donned my cold suit, set my Gerbigs controller on ‘tropical’, bit the bullet, and bravely rode off to confront the elements… Within the first couple of miles, I already knew I’d made the right call… Have I ever mentioned that I just love this life?

DDT