Tuesday I loaded up my bicycle, drove down to Tellico Plains, TN, and did an out-and-back ride up to the high point on the Cherohala Skyway.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, the Skyway is

a 43-mile (69 km) National Scenic Byway that connects Tellico Plains, Tennessee, to Robbinsville, North Carolina in the southeastern United States. Its name is a portmanteau of Cherokee and Nantahala, the two national forests through which it passes.

It was a great afternoon to be outside: mostly sunny, light winds, temperatures (in the valley) in the mid-70s. I wasn’t the only person who opted to spend it in the mountains. Thanks to the leaf watchers, there was more traffic than I had ever seen on the Skyway before. And yet, in comparison to other mountain roads (namely, the Smoky Mountains) it was still light. Up top you could watch the road for a couple minutes and not see a vehicle drive by.
That’s one thing that makes the Skyway such a unique experience. Apart from the sparse traffic, the only evidence of civilization you see in 30+ miles are a couple outhouses and some picnic tables. If you’re riding solo, this complete immersion into the wilderness adds an even more epic dynamic to your conquest of the mountains. Although I enjoy the solitude, it would be nice if they had some water up there, though. Hauling your own adds extra weight.
Pictures:

At the Tellico Plains Visitor’s Center, minutes before launch time

Fancy bridge

The Skyway is a popular motorcycle destination

The Tellico River

Further upstream. The Skyway follows the Tellico River for about five miles.

Winding along the Tellico River
I made the here trip for a couple reasons: (1) because I haven’t done a challenging climb all year, and (2) to see fall colors.
The Skyway was a good choice on both accounts. Although the foliage was past peak above 4,000 feet, there was still plenty of nice color between 2,500-4,500 feet. It was just peaking below 2,500 feet. I had never been on the Cherohala during the fall (only during the summer), so it was a new experience this time.
As for the climbing, it’s abundant. I estimate that 26 of the 31 miles to the top are uphill. The climbing ranges from an easy five-mile jaunt along the river (18 mph) to miles-long sections of 6-8%, even 9%. Plenty of slogging along at 7-8 mph. Lots of quality face time with the front wheel.
To me, the mental dynamic of a long climb becomes just as challenging as the physical demand. It starts getting in my head when I see nothing but more hill turn after turn after turn. I become psychologically fatigued thinking about the enormity of the mountain, rather than focusing on just reaching the next curve ahead.
There’s a life lesson there somewhere.

Autumn colors

Virtually every grueling ride I do has a “Doubting Thomas” moment–a time, relatively early in the ordeal, where I question my sanity and ability to complete the mission. In short, I say to myself, “This is a bad idea. Why the hell am I doing this?”
This ride was no exception. About seven miles into the trek, before I had even reached the sustained torturous stretches, my bike started making funny noises. That was all it took to kick my worry motor into overdrive. What if I suffered a catastrophic mechanical or physical breakdown out in this remote country? That would suck. Wouldn’t it be much more sensible to turn back and do the easy road along the river instead?
Yes, that would have been the sane thing to do. Which is why I kept going.

Turkey Creek Overlook


The reds were the best colors along the route. The yellows and oranges weren’t as brilliant.

You can faintly see the road winding through the “V” in the mountain profile above.


Entering foreign territory at Unicoi Crest. The western ascent includes almost 25 miles of Tennessee Highway 165 and 7 miles on North Carolina Highway 143.

Colors were past peak color above 4,000 feet. Many of the leaves had already fallen.

No rest for the weary on the mighty Cherohala Skyway.

At last, the top of the Skyway is within sight (above). Note all the barren trees.

Near the top of Skyway. Curiously, the panorama from the highest overlook isn’t very good. There are much better views just to the east and west of it.

Skyway conquered! At Santeetlah Overlook, elevation 5,390 feet.
It was pleasant on the summit for October. The sun was still out and there was only a light breeze. I’ve felt colder up there in June.
I sat for several minutes listening to a motorcyclist loudly talking on his phone. I wanted to get someone to take a picture. A couple vehicles pulled over, but no one lingered long enough for me to approach them. Finally a nice lady from Florida emerged from a van and obliged. She took not one, but several. Holding your bike up by a sign isn’t the most natural of poses.
It’s a great feeling sitting on the summit. You quickly forget the sweat and pain it took to get there and bask in the air of your velo superiority. To borrow a movie phrase, you feel like king of the world, or at least king of that mountain. But then after a bit you turn around and head back down, making the whole exercise seem rather pointless.

Entering uncharted territory.

Evening haze envelops the Unicoi Mountains.

One last look at the ageless mountains.
I take a bizarre sense of pride in two otherwise trivial aspects of the ride. First, I never used the lowest two gears on the bike, even on the 9% grades. Some cyclists like to sit and spin; I like to stand and mash. It works for me. Besides, it’s reassuring to know that there’s an easier gear available if you need it.
Second, I consumed just over two bottles of water during the ride. No food. I did have emergency provisions (and warmer clothing) in a backpack–which, incidentally, was rather uncomfortable when I was sweating–but I didn’t need it. I only drank some of the extra water, the rest of the stuff I hauled for nothing. But better to be safe than sorry. If you bonk (low blood sugar) or get the chills miles from anywhere, you’ve got a big problem.
Fortunately, nothing went wrong. I didn’t cramp and my squeaky bike didn’t break down. I rolled back into Tellico Plains with amble daylight, a bit tired, but exhilarated from another velo mountaintop experience.
Ride stats
Distance: 62.5 miles
Time: 4:28

Tuesday I went for a ride in South Knox and North Blount Counties. I call it the Egyptian route because I start just around the corner from King Tut’s Grill in downtown Vestal. (Route map posted below.)
It was a beautiful October afternoon/evening for a ride: sunny, a temperature near 80F, light winds. The leaves were just starting to change colors.
The only drawback was that the setting sun made it difficult to get any good pictures facing westward.
I’ve ridden this route probably a dozen times or more, but surprisingly it had been several months since the last time. Not much has changed though, other than the rough roads having few more potholes.
Scenes along the route:

Road construction on Tipton Station Road

Pickens Gap Road


I.C. King Road


Animals at Brookhaven Retreat


Nails Creek Road


Martin Mill Pike

Self portrait

Tarklin Valley Road

Someone’s day just got worse on Governor John Sevier Highway.
Ride stats
Distance: 35 miles
Time: 2:08

It’s a good thing I keep an even keel, or I could have gotten into a road rage incident last evening on the way back from a ride at Vestal.
I was entering this Edington Road one-lane underpass (Google Street Views), already in the one lane part, and this white, trashy-looking 20-something-year-old a-hole comes comes in the other side. So someone has got to back up. I thought I should have the right-of-way, since I was there first. But there are no signs, and, not being too familiar with the local driving customs, I decide to back up since there is a small pull-off on my side of the bridge.
So I start to back up, slowly, because I’m not a great backer-upper and because I don’t want to bang my bike or car on the low bridge.
Well, that wasn’t enough for Mr. Eminem-wannabe. He revs up his big Cadillac, starts flashing his lights, honking, and yelling obscenities the entire time I’m backing up. I thought about stopping just to further annoy him, but who knows what kind of dangerous response that would have triggered?
What a freakin’ idiot.
It’s bad enough confronting such clowns when you’re in a car. It’s all the worse for me when I think about how I’m sharing the road with these hotheads on my bicycle. Yikes.

Yesterday was a sunny, 75F-degree day. What’s the best way to spend such a beautiful afternoon? Going bicycling, of course.
I decided to ride out to Oak Ridge, the Secret City (so named because it was founded as part of the Manhattan Project). I grabbed an apple, filled my water bottles, and embarked on another cycling adventure.
The pictures chronicle the journey:

Heading out of Knoxville on Middlebrook Pike.

Sheep enjoying the October sunshine.

Heading down into a ravine.

Scenic inlet.

Make sure your brakes are in good working condition.

Bull Run Fossil Plant. Air quality is good today.

Looking across the Clinch River.

Cruising through the Secret City. Traffic was quite light.

Oak Ridge High School. I like the logo (on the left).

Freshly-paved Highway 95. I was surprised to discover several miles of bike lane! But it had a lot of gravel on it so I ended up riding at the edge of the traffic lane much of the way anyway.

Which way do I go? Where’s my map?

I’ve got the road all to myself.

Uh oh.

Security gate at Oak Ridge National Laboratory. Oops, I left my security clearance at home.

Melton Hill Dam.

Dam/Bike shot.

Riding on a bridge over the interstate I noticed that something bad had happened to this car.

Ensuing traffic jam.

A change in the hillside hue indicates that evening draws nigh.
A great ride. Traffic was light, winds were mild, I only had two cars honk at me, and no one threw anything at me. What more can you ask for?
Ride stats:
62.8 miles
3:45:30

It’s often said that the political class is out of touch with “Main Street,” but this recession has made that discrepancy particularly glaring. Policy makers have really struggled to explain our economic malaise (or worse) while sticking to tried and true political talking points.
Take this example from President Clinton, who’s no political slouch. He’s asked who the employment situation is so bad, and he makes several pretty good points explaining why we’re not seeing job growth in this recovery. But then he adds this:

“The last unemployment report said that for the first time in my lifetime, and I’m not young, in my lifetime, we are coming out of a recession but job openings are going up twice as fast as new hires. And yet we can all cite cases that we know about where somebody opened a job and 400 people showed up.
How could this be? Because people don’t have the job skills for the jobs that are open. So here’s the most important thing. If we were hiring since last June when economists said the shrinkage stopped, between then and now, if we had been hiring people on the jobs where people are trying to hire, that is we could get those jobs this morning after this TV show is over, if we were doing that at the same rate were doing that in 93, 94, 95, there would be five million more people at work. This unemployment rate would be 6.9 (percent) not 9.6 (percent.) We would be in a different world, not just economically but emotionally as as country.

Get that? There actually are lots of jobs available, the problem is that our workforce just isn’t smart enough–err–isn’t trained enough to fill them.
Right. Tell that to all the recent-college graduates or seasoned workers who are working low end or part-time jobs just to get by.
The truth is that the vast majority of workers without jobs are unemployed not because they are untrained, but rather because there’s too much productive capacity in the economy to support our present demand. And we’re not going to see a meaningful pick-up in demand (and employment) until we deleverage the huge cloud of debt hanging over our economy, which will take many more months or years.
There’s no easy way out of this dilemma and politicians have no painless solutions. Our near-term outlook is painfully at odds with the long-standing, politically-palatable myth about “American Exceptionalism.” Which is why I suspect we will continue hearing politicians wallpaper over our problems as Clinton did above.