BIKING WITH A FAT BALD WHITE GUY

 NEW RIVER TRAIL- Draper to Foster Falls

On the first weekend of fall, we set out to ride the northern portion of the New River Trail.  I have previously blogged my experiences on a middle portion of the trail.  This part did not disappoint! 

For the 5th year in a row, the Fat Bald White Guy and his Faithful Hiking Companion have participated in the Great Cycle Challenge to raise awareness of  Childhood Cancer. We ride in memory of our great nephew, Beau Stanley who died before age three from neuroblastoma.  September is the month that our team, Beau's Buddies dust off our bikes and ride! 

 Beau's Buddies

This year our goal was to ride 750 miles and raise $7500...we are going to ride 1000 miles and raise over $10,000!  Last year we rode the New River Trail from Ivanhoe to Foster Falls.  This year the route was from Draper to Foster Falls, a distance of around 18 miles!

The New River State Park is a linear park, 57 miles long. The trail runs from Pulaski to Galax Virgina and follows a route in the abandoned railroad bed on the banks of the New River.  Because it is a railroad grade there are no steep hills to climb.  It meanders in the Virginia backwoods through some small hamlets.   

Foster Falls is the about midway and is the location of the Park offices.  A home for a campground next to the river.  A fantastic fishing hole and there bikes can be rented and horse rides secured.  

It is also the place you can pick up a shuttle to either Galax or Pulaski.  It is one of the most scenic locations in the park. 

Having ridden Ivanhoe to Foster Falls last year we chose to ride the northern section from Draper to Foster Falls. For $35 a piece we got a ride to Draper and took off "down" the trail looking for the Hiawassee Bridge.  

The trail is wide and very well maintained mostly a crushed black cinder rock that packs well and makes the ride smooth.  From Draper to Allisonia the trail is either downhill or level and if you are not careful you will not slow down to catch the scenery...but we did!

The New River has been dammed a time or two and near Draper is a example of that.  Claytor Lake provides for some great motor boat access to the New River.  Completed in 1939 the river was dammed to provide hyroelectric power to the region and a 225,000 acre lake was formed. The New River Trail north of Draper access rides on the lake shore for the first couple of miles.

From this bridge we got the best view of Claytor Lake.  Most bridges have a small lookout perch about midway across.  From that perch you can get out of the way of fellow bikers and take your time photographing the scenery.  

Not far from Claytor Lake bridge is the architecturally scenic Hiawassee Bridge.  On most rails to trails byways, the railroads have removed the old steel trestles but on this section the steel structure that was used by railroad cars remains and it is something to behold.  

You must stop and photograph this structure. It is a massive steel girded structure that spans 951 feet over the New River.  I once biked across the Golden Gate and when I rode across this bridge my Golden Gate ride is what popped into my mind.  Take time to enjoy! We did.

We didn't realize at the time but the Hiawassee Bridge is at the bottom of the hill we were enjoying riding down from Draper.  Because you are on a railroad grade, the elevation changes are subtle but the topography changes as you cross the big steel bridge. The New River flows north and we were heading south. After the bridge the rest of the ride to Foster Falls we found the river flowing on our right...which means we are traveling upstream...and water flows downhill....get it?  You don't notice the change until you ride out from the hamlet of Allisonia.

Allisonia like many of the hamlets along the New River Trail was built and occupied by miners.  This area of the state of Virginia has historically been an area where iron ore has been mined. Foster Falls was a mining hub of the region and a form of pig iron was processed there. 

Census figures say 115 folks live in Allisonia.  We only saw 3 folks and two dogs.  But the old depot is now a hostel and there are many signs of cabins to rent for bikers and fishermen I suppose.

Leaving Allisonia, the trail changes.  The river is now on your right and the trail begins to climb in elevation but it is a railroad grade so the climb is both subtle and tolerable.

The trail also begins to weave into the side of the mountain and the topography surrounding the trail is both wooded and rocky.  There are occasional glimpses of the river but to get good views you have to do some scampering to get to the riverside.

The trail is very serene and other than your labored breathing and the rythmic clatter of your pedals you are pretty much alone in the woods.  Occasionally another rider will pass you but for the most part we had the trail to ourselves for most of the ride.

About the time we thought we had crested a rise and the trail was leveling out, another rise was revealed.   My Faithful Biking Companion asked me if I knew that water ran downhill.  What we realised is that the railbed pretty much followed the same trajectory as the river bed.  I found myself thinking how hard constructing the rail line would have been each time I passed through the narrow rock walls that were scarred by marks of the blasting by railway workers. "Hey if they could build this dang thing, I should be able to ride it on a bicycle!"

Just as we left Pulaski County, there was a very inviting trail bench.  Never forsake a trail bench even when you are riding a bike.  

Across from the bench was a metal sign and next to the sign was a drive that led to a wide meadow next to the river.

While my Faithful Hiking Companion was resting, I pedaled down to the river and took in the sights of the "New River Retreat". 

The large meadow seemed to lead to a few riverside camping spots which on this day were unoccupied. 

 A few picnic tables provided clues to where the best view might be and I took advantage of them. 

I could see why the area was considered a retreat as the river moved along the river banks gently with just enough speed that the sound of the river was an ever present gurgling hum.  Grassy banks and shade trees made this a wonderful place to take a break from the ride.

We figured that we were about 4 miles from Foster Falls and expected at anytime to find the trail flattening out...but we were wrong...it's uphill all the way!  But we soon began to see evidence that we were getting closer to our destination.  More riders appeared and the occasional pod of horse manure was on the trail...then we saw them...horses! 

These magnificent creatures gave us hope that our destination was near at hand.  These were large horses who did not gallop when they ran...they were Tennessee Walkers so I was told.  But as we let them pass we found a new energy and soon the trail did flatten out and we were in the Foster Falls Recreation area.

If you can't bike the New River Trail, you can visit Foster Falls and quickly and easily get a feel for the beauty and majesty of one of the oldest rivers in the world. 

At the south end of the park are the falls. The falls are really just rocky shoals where the water is slowed by a rock formation.  

There is a wonderful structure at Foster Falls that looks like an old hotel.  But in truth is the former headquarters of a mining company that was part office and part bunkhouse. 

In later years it was turned into an orphanage.  Soon...very soon it will be an hostel of sorts for biking tourists....can't wait to visit there again! 

What can be said about the New River Trial...if you can ride a bike....you got to ride it!  It is a hard but fair trek for the average biker. If you take your time and enjoy the scenery, the labor of riding will be paid a hundredfold in incredible scenery that you can only see from the saddle of a bike or a horse. 

 Make it a bucket list.  If the Fat Bald White Guy and his Faithful Biking Companion can make it...well most anyone can! Scenery is a 10...Trail is well maintained and marked...10...Location is easy to find right off I-77 North...10....Effort to View ratio...near perfect!

Hey and remember Beau's Buddies!  We do this every September but you can contribute anytime...follow the link!Beau's Buddies

Forty Years with the Same Mistress

 

Forty years ago this month I fell in love with a jealous mistress.   At least that is how Dr. Robert E. Lee, the former Dean of the Wake Forest School of Law describes the affair.  "The Law is a Jealous Mistress"  he proclaimed.  "She demands constant wooing,  She will not tolerate infidelity.  She is jealous of those persons and things that claim too much of your time and attention.  You will fall in love with the law.."

When I was but a youngster, I would join my Grandfather to visit his brother, Uncle Ernest.  Ernest was a Yadkin County farmer who curiously lived with his wife and sister-in-law, and had a son named Teddy Gray.  Teddy was mentally challenged and was born the same year as my mother. He was unmarried and worked on Uncle Ernest's farm.  Along with his other challenges, he was afflicted with a speech impediment, and often made the sound of a "y" when he meant to use the sound of an "R" or an "L"

 "What you been doing Teddy Gray?", I would ask.  He would reply:  "Not much Buddy, but I have been yiding the yoad a lot." But my ever-present memory of him was in a beekeeper suit, gathering up sourwood honey for the city boy to take home.  Decades later I ran into Teddy Gray at a family reunion. 

By then I was a college graduate, was married with young children, and had begun my practice of law.  Teddy Gray was old, and nearly blind living in a rest home.  There he stood before me with tobacco juice leaking from the corner of his mouth.  "Teddy Gray, do you know who I am?", I yelled into his mostly deaf ears.   "Of course I do.  You are Uncle Arvil's grandson, Buddy" he replied.  " Are you a Yawyer?  You always said you wanted to be a Yawyer!"

"Yes Teddy Gray I am a Yawyer.  Been one now forty years."

How did Teddy Gray remember my life's ambition? I cannot recall ever discussing it with him.  I was but a young lad the last time I saw him.  But I must have articulated my dream to him, and somehow he remembered.  I guess I really have always wanted to be a lawyer. I guess in some ways I have taken for granted how so very fortunate I am.  And truthfully it has been one incredible journey!

It began on a snowy winter's day in Buies Creek, North Carolina in 1979.  An interview for admission to the Campbell College School of Law's fourth graduating class.  I was trying to be a part of a dream of Norman Wiggins to build a law school on the campus of his small Christian College in the suburbs of Lillington, North Carolina.  My interview with Professor Carolyn Ingram was switched due to her inability to navigate the snow-covered rural roads.  Instead, I got to interview Professor Patrick Hetrick and that interview made all the difference.

Pat Hetrick was part of the original faculty of Campbell College School of Law and hailed from Wisconsin. He became one of the most respected experts in Real Property law in the state, but at the time he interviewed me he was just starting out.  But we hit it off and with a strong letter of recommendation from my college professor, Christy Sorum, I was in.  

And in three memorable long years, I graduated 23rd in my class, and the research editor of the Law Review, hungry for a job.

It was really Chris Beal who unknowingly recruited me to Kernersville.  Chris was a classmate and former probation officer in Forsyth County.  One day toward the end of our third year, he tapped me on the shoulder and said: "Judge Tash told me that a lawyer named John Wolfe, in Kernersville is looking to hire a recent graduate."  

John G. Wolfe, III, was the town attorney for Kernersville and owned a house down the street from where I grew up.  I really did want to practice in Forsyth County so I reached out and John took a chance and hired me.  Now just to pass the bar and I would be on my way.

The summer of 1982 was the worst summer of my life. Studying for a three-day test that determined my worth as a lawyer was all I thought about.  And to tell you the truth, I can now go months at a time without thinking about that summer and that God-awful exam.  Of the 406 individuals taking the exam for the first time in 1982, 316 passed exam and I was one of them.  I don't know what the letter from the Board of Law Examiners said as I only read the first three words, "We are pleased".  Soon thereafter I  was licensed to practice law.  How about that Teddy Gray?... on August 21, 1982, the state of North Carolina licensed me to practice law.  On that day, 40 years ago, I became a Yawyer!

So what do I have to say about practicing law for 40 years? It seems like just yesterday when I started the practice in the center of the Piedmont Triad, the small town of Kernersville North Carolina.  A place that was really Mayberry back in the 1960s, but has grown into the suburban center of one of the faster-growing areas of the state.  I was fortunate to have landed in Kernersville and was fortunate to have had a friend and mentor like John Wolfe.  He taught me how to be a lawyer, a fair-minded community member, a husband, and father.  For 18 years, he was the big brother I never had, and whatever success I have enjoyed is directly related to the fact that he believed in me, a gift for which I will always be grateful and for which I can never repay.

So I became known as the "KernersvilleLawyer". My email identifies me with my adopted home town. It is the place I have lived for 40 years and is the place where I have raised a family among some of the finest folks to be found anywhere.  Folks like, Ray Thomas , the "dean of the local bar",  Roger Swisher, "the Mayor", Chief Neal Stockton, Dewitt Rhoades, Dr. Kirk Walker,  Solly Coltrane, the late great "Kingfish", Arnold King;  bankers: Joe Scales, Ned Mabe, Wayne Mabe, Lou Ann Davis, and Mike Jacobs; neighbors: Robert and Susan Furmage, Bob and Sharon Stamper, Vicki Crutchfield and Tommy Cook;  David Fitzpatrick, Pastor Pete Kunkle, Gary Mundy, Irving Neal, Darrell and Gail Taylor, Jake and Brook Cashion, and countless others befriended me, encouraged me and made sure I was successful sometimes in spite of myself.

Kernersville is a community that offers many opportunities for service.  The Chamber of Commerce, the YMCA, the Lion's Club and Kernersville Moravian Church were where I learned essential skills in leadership and the importance of community involvement.  At the YMCA, we expanded the building twice with a new indoor pool, workout room and second gymnasium.  At Kernersville Moravian Church, I chaired the committee that built a new sanctuary in 1992.

All this led to service on the Winston-Salem/Forsyth County Board of Education.  Twice I was appointed to serve and three times elected.  Sixteen years working with some of the finest people in this county. Governor McCrory appointed me to serve on the State Board of Education for another four years of public service. Twenty years of making education policy was some of the most rewarding times of my life.  We oversaw 500 million dollars in new construction and built three new high schools.  The new Walkertown High School returned the high school to the community and is one of my proudest accomplishments.

The Forsyth County Bar, especially, the District Court Street Lawyers are the best friends I have and the courthouse has been my second home.  George Cleland III ("Nothing dries faster than the tears of graditude") has been my constant friend and mentor.  Lawyers like David Niblock , Andy Carmen. Skip Long, John Barrow, George Cleland, IV, Tom Fagerli, Warren Kasper and Jim O'Neill have always had my back. Old rats like Pappy Badgett, Bill Cofer, Eddie Mitchell, Fred Hutchins, Bill Speaks, Dick Ramsey, Chuck Alexander, Warren Sparrow, and Mike Grace provided me with the hope and encouragement that I could make it and more importantly the direction to reach 40 years in the practice. Judges like Ab Alexander, Jim Harrill, Roland Hayes and Kason Keiger helped shape me as a District Court Trial lawyer. Others like Gary Tash, Joe Gatto, Bill Reingold, Chester Davis, Denise Hartsfield and Gordon Miller became trusted friends.  Superior Court Judges like Bill Freeman, Ron Spivey, Stan Allen,  Richard Gottlieb, David Hall, and Eric Morgan all could be counted upon to be friendly and fair.  Trials are never for the faint of heart, but as Mike Grace opined: "In court, sometimes you get da dog and sometimes da dog, he gets you".  Ain't that the truth!

My staff over the years has changed, but I could not have practiced a day without them.  Sylvia Saylor, my work mom, taught as much as John Wolfe.  Folks like Joan Rogers, Mary Phelps, Debra Bradley, Charlene White, Shayne Combs, Susan Heman, Pat Fair, and Michelle Fonzi all were essential to my success and sanity.  But to my amazement and enjoyment, Whitney Collins Hunter came into my practice in 2010 and joined with Kim King to make our office effectively represent so many clients. Working with my daughter is one of my life's greatest joys.

For someone to come to you and ask you to help them solve a problem, has to be the highest compliment anyone can give another.  Every day for 40 years, I have had the chance to help someone with the serious and the mundane. In so doing I have been complimented by thousands.  That is humbling.

"To give someone something for which they never can repay is a perfect day".  In the general practice of law, I have had a chance each day for 40 years to enjoy a perfect day. I have taken cases from Magistrate's court to the Supreme Court. While not every day has been perfect, there have been enough.  That is overwhelming.

I among all men have been allowed to do that which I dreamed of as I boy. My family left a Stokes County farm in 1837 to work in a Salem cotton mill.  I am the son and grandson of factory workers, educated in the University and licensed by the State as an attorney and counselor at law which is indeed my ancestors' wildest dream.  That is a blessing.

Of course the greatest blessing for me is my 40 year marriage to my beloved Rene'and the two wonderful children we have raised. And of course, my grandchildren, Awesome Possum and Billy Buck. We met in college, and were married the December of my third year in law school.  She has been my constant encourager. Without her patient commitment to me and our family, nothing else would matter. 

While the road behind me is much longer than that which lies before me, I am not about to retire.  Slow down? ...sure...but retirement does not excite me yet.  

" Retirement" as Bobby Bowden said, is not something to look forward to because after retirement "there is only one big event left!" 

And Satchel Paige once said: "How old would you think you is if you didn't know how old you is?"

Above all else, I give unto my Lord and Saviour all praise and thanks for the blessings He alone has bestowed upon me.  The Rock upon which I stand.

Amen.