morning commute

Check it.

Glad I voted early just in case a massive SUV with a "sarah cuda" bumpersticker (of which there are quite a few) mows me down between here and election day...Reminds me of a halloween spook from two years back.

neighborhood

maple magnolia magnificence

Stardate: "[viewing the universe] in optical light alone, the light that's visible to the human eye, is a bit like trying to appreciate a symphony when you can hear only one instrument. It might be pretty, but it doesn't tell the whole story."

Winding in and out of these familiar coves, the yellow brilliance of fall magnolias catches my eye. The maples are putting on quite a show, too. We pause at Harris Creek while Uwharrie laps up some of the clear water. I like to watch the ripples in the water disperse from where her tongue breaks the surface.

We've been studying the hydrosphere in class, and I know that these tiny waves are energy spreading through these precious molecules. I can envision the energy beyond her tongue that brought this water inside her: a cold Midwestern morning dew excited by our beloved star and evaporating into the sky above the rolling plains.

I can almost feel the heavy cold air pushing from the north and west as the clouds build over Tennessee. The water droplets are now well below zero degrees Celsius high above the mountains. And then it happens: perfectly symmetrical and microscopically intricate fingers of fragile crystalline water expand into delicate flakes. Gently they begin to fall...

Many of these flakes fell on Black Mountain. Some even came down here in Marion, although far fewer than what Adam (above) got to enjoy. The flakes melted quickly (afterall, we don't get much snow around here) yet many maintained they're crystalline purity recharging these mountain creeks.

Now Uwharrie is recharged, and so am I. We run on. This really is a great trail. I smile when we catch up to Lily. All three of us pause to look through the kaliedoscopic canopy at the setting sun across the valley. The wind is practically still. In the silence, I think can hear more than one instrument...

yes, that one

(I'm Matt Kirk, and I approve this message.)

resurrection

idiot wind

bald knob

As usual, the advent of autumn has triggered a burning desire within me to run. The hunger is more intense than I can remember, perhaps because of teaching and the long exhausting workdays. It's not merely a hunger, it's starvation. My body aches to move.

I'll often bike to work, a journey of about 7 miles round-trip. This can be a harrowing experience: high traffic, large trucks and no shoulders. Although it feels good, it's not quite like running. Come Saturday, I seek release…

Bald Knob's broad shoulders, now covered with a veil of fall foliage, have beckoned me for a few months. The Mountains to Sea Trail follows this ridgeline on its way from the parkway to Linville Gorge. Before plunging to the Linville River, the trail crests out on a panoramic perch known as Pinnacle. This is a grand spot to survey McDowell County.

Today we will traverse Bald Knob. The Millennium Falcon has barely touched down before I'm out the door and trotting up past the gate from the Woodlawn Work Center. Uwharrie takes to sniffing around and falling behind. I don't worry about her catching up.

There's a profound satisfaction in exploration. The act of running summons a primitive pleasure as well: "the rapture of being alive made manifest through the body of motion." The dog has already caught up and settled into a pace right behind me.

For the first half mile, the trail is a forest service road gradually climbing toward the western rim of the North Fork of the Catawba River. As expected, the colors are terrific. Uwharrie and I are both smiling, our legs are fresh and the running is effortless. The crisp autumnal air cleanses our lungs. Capillaries spread this euphoria to every cell in our bodies.

Shortly after crossing the footbridge over the North Fork, the trail turns to single track and switchbacks steeply to the ridge. Spruce trees and rock outcrops give us an indication of how far above the valley we've climbed. It feels good to push the pace and let our landscape-infused blood pump hard out of our hearts.

I'm wearing the same old pair of Sauconys as I have for most of my runs this summer and fall. I couldn't stand the lack of protection from these lightweight racers last spring. But these days, they feel fantastic. Perhaps it takes more of a type B personality to appreciate these Type A2s.

As we ascend, I begin to pay more attention to the weather. The sun has disappeared behind an expansive layer of clouds. The foothills seem to be on the edge of a front. We're surprised, but not alarmed to meet a low cloud creeping up the mountain from the other side. It's now mostly overcast.

The trail turns to a dirt road and Uwharrie and I encounter hunters and their dogs on this next stretch. The rhythm increases as we hurry by on the easier terrain. I begin to wonder about how fast we're making these miles. Soon we're on familiar ground and nearing our rendezvous with my parents on Pinnacle.

As we arrive, the clouds begin to part. We hike to the top and gaze down to the river while savoring the flavor of the teaberries growing in abundance around the gorge. Life is good.

so long summer

parting shot

remix

once

Saturday: My body can move free and fast through here. The path feels so smooth underfoot; it’s mostly lightly packed dirt, clear of roots and leaves. And the gradual grade is complemented nicely with a well-pruned corridor. This trail is loved.

My mind begins to wander. There can be negativity when the mind refocuses on the body’s task. But today, my thoughts are gushing with positive appreciation and a renewed awe.

The trail has been ascending for some time. The fall colors have started. There are already some brilliant reds and bright yellows throughout the forest. Leaves are beginning to blanket the trail. The air is dry and cool, and it’s a sunny and breezy October afternoon. Running feels best in the fall.

Uwharrie and I crest out and briefly admire a view into upper Toms Creek valley before following the trail down to the creek. I’m sure the dog is thirsty and I wouldn’t mind dipping my head into the fresh water myself. It feels like awhile since I’ve been baptized.

We’ve found our way down to the forested plain of Toms Creek. It’s a happy place filled with old growth and river cane. The creek meanders peacefully through here. Uwharrie laps up some of the clear clean mountain water as I silently take in the surroundings. In a minute, we’re back into the rhythm of our run, this time on the opposite bank…

Sunday: Same 8 miles as above, this time with Lily.

Monday: 10 miles out and back on Kitsuma from Old Fort.

Tuesday: 11 mile figure eight, new route up Pinnacle at Linville Gorge.

The running season has returned and the future is looking bright. Let the journey resume.

electioneering

I will stop, I will stop at nothing.
Say the right things when electioneering
I trust I can rely on your vote.

When I go forwards you go backwards
and somewhere we will meet.
When I go forwards you go backwards
and somewhere we will meet.
Ha ha ha

Riot shields, voodoo economics,
it's just business, cattle prods and the I.M.F.
I trust I can rely on your vote.

When I go forwards you go backwards
and somewhere we will meet.
When I go forwards you go backwards
and somewhere we will meet

looking glass

how come i end up where i started?


how come i end up where i went wrong?


won't take my eyes off the ball again...