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Trials and Tribulations of a Road Warrior
by Tom Baker
January 2000
After teaching for thirty years, I have turned in my grade book and
calculator and joined the ranks of other retirees. To break in such a period, I tried to
think of something to do bikewise. Tour the Skyline Drive/Blue Ridge Parkway again was my
first selection. However, mid-November is a poor time for such an undertaking, with cold,
rain and shorter days counteracting most positive reasons. I suppose I still would have
gone if I had someone else to ride it with me, but the short list of possible road mates
was soon scratched. I thought about the Natchez Trace but rejected it for the same reasons
as above and hope to complete that 450-mile jaunt some other time. As a last resort, I
decided to bike from my home in Hixson, Tennessee to Helen, Georgia, staying at state
parks along the way. A week would be ample for such an adventure.
After getting excellent routing out of Chattanooga from Daisy and Hugh,
I started out on November 16th on my fully-loaded Woodchuck (the endearing alias for my
touring horse of a decade and a half, a Woodrup). First stop was Fort Mountain State Park,
a lovely area eight miles from Chatsworth. Unfortunately, the eight miles are uphill, as
the park is located atop Fort Mountain.
In hindsight, I now realize that I should have started the odyssey from
the Visitors Center at the Chickamauga Battlefield. A preliminary scan of the map showed
that the chosen route was conceivable for completion in a day. So, at 8:15 AM, I headed
out on my steed, carrying a variety of jackets, gloves and a five-pound sleeping bag
guaranteed to keep me like toast atop Mount Everest! Within a couple of miles, I joined
the Tuesday ride course via Roberts' Mill Road. In a mere 17 miles, I was rolling across
the Walnut Street Bridge, and Broad Street took me through Saint Elmo; another 15 miles,
and I was at Wilder's Tower in the Battlefield Park--32 miles from my home. For the
uninformed, this distance was not without some serious hills, and I was quite warmed up
for the next leg of the trip—Ringgold.
Although it was in the high 40's, I was able to ride with tights,
thermax shirt, jersey and a vest. En route I stopped at James Price's to inquire on his
new addition. (James is a motor cross-turned-cyclist with lots of promise, despite a
recent metamorphosis via Creatine.) The wind was also evident, blowing from the North.
After reaching Gregory, I headed south for 15 miles to Chatsworth with a favorable wind.
It was past 3:00 PM when I rolled into a Golden Gallon for the necessary junk food
revival.
I wasn't sure I'd be able to make the campsite before darkness got me.
From the store, I was only 10 miles away, but 9 were vertical. My legs already had much
more than a day's ride in them as I aimed my handlebar bag towards the imposing mountain.
The trusty computer performed well--7, 6, 5 were numbers seen often for the next hour and
change. (My wife, Carol, asked me later if I got off my bike during the climb--could not
believe she would ask me such a question--the answer being "NO," of course not.
A "real" biker would die before pushing....)
At 5:00 PM, I was at Fort Mountain State Park and chose a campsite
adjacent the shower room. While setting up my tent, the only other
"survivalists" camping came by. Two sisters about my vintage from Dalton were
camped nearby and warned me that there was no heat in the facility I had chosen to camp
near. However, after checking the other "heated" one, I could find no
differences. Boldly, I offered a bagel for a cup of coffee; the sun had gone down; and,
according to my mini-thermometer, it already was 37 degrees! They agreed, and I took a
well-needed shower. Despite lacking heat, the shower water was hot; and I spent nearly
half an hour warming up. Later, the coffee hit the spot! Although it was not yet 8:00 PM,
my eyes were heavy. The 91 miles insured I wouldn't suffer "mountain insomnia"
this night!
When I awoke the next morning, the thermometer read 32 degrees. Getting
out of the cocoon was not easy--nor was packing up. The ranger station was closed the
previous day when I arrived, so I rolled in to pay my camping fee at 9:00 AM.
Unfortunately, the campsite was a mile downhill from the main road, so I immediately
struggled to get there. After leaving $16 with the rangers, I felt as if I had paid their
heating bill for the week! (Oh, well, the shower was worth it!)
After the long first day, I had decided to abandon my initial plan of
Helen via Vogel and Unicoi State Parks. Like Kenny Rogers says, you've got to
"...know when to fold them." After a long, cold day, with darkness at 5:30 PM, I
decided to return and finish this trip when warm weather again returns. So, I planned to
return to Chattanooga via a different route. I would go south to Resaca, then northwest to
Villanow. From here, I'd bike through the Chattahoochie National Forest, going by The
Pocket, to Rock Springs and Chickamauga. But first I had to descend Fort Mountain.
Putting on my warmest jacket and gloves, I aimed the front wheel
downhill, and away I flew! Even at 9:00 AM, the thermometer registered only 34 degrees.
The fastest speeds were around 35 mph, and I was uncomfortably cold. At less steep parts,
24 mph was bearable. In only 18 minutes, I was in Chatsworth at the local pancake house,
creating a conversation piece for the "good old boys" who always frequent such
places. The Java was good, and I was on my horse before 10:00 AM. The remainder of the
trip offered some lovely scenery, and only Taylor's Ridge provided major heart
palpitations the rest of the way. I called Carol when I reached Chickamauga at 3:30 PM.
She works in downtown Chattanooga and agreed to meet me at the Walnut Street Bridge. I
arrived there at 4:45 PM, just before dusk. The odometer read 86 today, and I knew it
would take me many days to recover. At least I'll have a warm bed tonight, I hoped. Carol
came, and Tab ran by as I was putting the bike in the car. Tab said, "Hey, I want to
do some touring some day--let's talk about it sometime..." Yeah, sure.
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