Born'd, bred and dead in Cincy for me ... a city slicker,that loves riding in the hills and hollars and comin' home to the smog and lights:

I love it here, and love traveling, too. Seeing what the rest of the world sees, and takin' it in, and hopefully sharing some of what I've learned in life and causin' a smile as I pass thru. There are more roads to enjoy, than time allotted. Oh to see the artistry of mother nature, the tree lined river roads, wind swept stone cliffs, the rock overhangs and the sight a buffalo grazing with calf and in total tranquility.

I can’t imagine being Davy Crockett or Daniel Boone or Chief Sequoya ... having to cut their path thru the wilderness. How did they find food, cross rivers, stay dry, avoid hostile indians? I spent hours and more hours in the Daniel Boone Forest, the serenity screams peace. I looked from the roads down into the deep gorges and wondered how Dan’l was able to cross Kentucky and do it on foot. Yes, life was different 250 years ago. How did he live to be 85 years of age,without our modern medicine, low carb diets, MedAlerts and electricity? I know I was nervous on state routes that crossed the side of a mountain, as I wouldn’t have a cell phone connection. He only had his musket and internal instincts. I now know and believe that I was born to see the mountain artwork of the Creator, to see the trees growing as tall as the sky so they could catch sunlight for nourishment. Standing on top of a ridge, looking out at the tall pines, seeing that they form a carpet of green as far as you can see, then looking down, and not being able to see the base of the tree, as they are so deep in the valley below. One can feel very insignificant.

What is the reason for these thoughts? I rode 759 miles of twists, turns, hairpins and switchbacks….Across mountain tops, along ridges, thru valleys. Perhaps riding for 10 miles and not seeing another person….seeing a white tailed doe would be the encounter of the hour. A treat would, also be finding a berm to pull off on, and be able to have an overlook into the deep valley, and then think “That’s not the morning mountain mist, it’s the breath of God ... .” And I was feeling very blessed to be there, even if just in the moment".

Deer, bears, horses, buffalo and fresh air ... .all in a somewhat controlled environment now, well all but the bear, they still go where they want. I had just missed seeing mama bear and her cubs, not that I wanted a close encounter, but, I would have loved a zoomed in pic. It’s sad that man could drive away such powerful animals, and still want them, roaming free. We can’t go back, but, we can sure give them the room and respect they need. What a loss it would be to only have memories and zoos, and no “wilds” for them to enjoy.

I found it fascinating that when I asked the locals for directions, how limited they were in knowing their own counties. At the gas station, I asked about Black Mountain Ridge Rd. He stated, he had no clue where it was, he’s hardly ever been out of the town, he was 60. The road was just a few short miles away. What floored me was stopping for directions at 2 local post offices. Both were unsure out of their zip codes where the road went.

I would be thinking song lyrics as I rode to the rhythm of the road...I took the high road….and the low road ... I’ll be a comin’ round the mountain, when I come ... The superhighway of my life was being born to find and ride back roads, lots of twists and turns on my roads. I realize that most ride the mainstream superhighway of life, but, oh how refreshing it is, to go back to nature, without technology, and just grasp what the author of life has given us. Some of us are given toll roads, and the cost to ride them is more than one has, therefore the journey is only a dream ... Some grab at the dream, and ride for the patch of blue in the sky and think, it can’t get no better than this, and then it does. I remember thinking 2 years ago that Leaning Rock Road in Hocking Hills was as good as it got, all 11 miles. Then this week I rode a couple hundred miles of the scenic byways that only proved that there are always greener pastures, if one is willing to step out and look for them. After riding 759 miles, I had to come home, but, I was truly touched.

So, here I sit typing this, reflecting, for now ... but, believe me, there are more miles and rides that will be awe inspiring, and create more dreams to be shared, and stories to spin.

There will be other rides coming, I hope that you can close your eyes and enjoy the ride along with me.