RoVa NMBP

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Do you know where this is? The word in my circles is that this may become a new trail system in Roanoke County.

Trail work on Mill Mountain

This past Saturday I spent three hours doing trail work on MM. It was cold...very cold on the "wrong" side of the mtn but once I got out of the wind it was quite nice. Paul Chapman had a diverse group. Me, a hiker, five Girl Scouts and three scout Moms. We divided into two groups. The GS's went to pick up trash, I think, while Paul, the hiker and I set to work bench cutting a switchback. The earth on MM was interesting. About 50/50 dirt to rock. The rocks were mostly fist to hand size and the digging was very easy except for the roots and the pulaski went thru them with ease. The GS's were pretty good little workers though I think they too a few too many cigarette breaks.
This was only the third time in my life that I have done legit trail work though I have done enough outlaw work to merit a pic in the post office. In my defense I must say that all of my outlaw work has been good stuff and enjoyed by many in the mtn bke community. One of my outlaw trails has been incorporated into a public system and I'm proud to say that it has been accepted as a gem. I don't know that any land owner has ever been aware of or offended by my projects but bottom line is that I have been a scofflaw and those days are probably over.
After the trail work I stopped at my favorite grease pit...Henry's Memphis BBQ. This is without a doubt the greasiest food in the RoVa and not co-incidentially, some of the most enjoyable. I got a big Q, fries and bottomless Pibb. The Q was such a mess I had to eat it with a fork. I probably should have just brought in a 9 in. section of garden hose and slurped the thing up.

Riding Between the Rails

I frequently go to the "Y". It's about a five mile drive. If the weather is appropriate I like to make the trip by bike. The only problem is that the roads are not the best for biking....West Main sux....Wildwood Road makes the trip too long...River Road jangles my nerves. Last Fall I discovered an alternative route. Norfolk Southern has two sets of railroad tracks, about 30 to 100 feet apart, and they go in the general direction of the "Y". RR track and signal crews often do service work on these tracks so that there are very rough, undeveloped service truck tracks thru much of this area. It constitutes about half of my distance to the "Y". The parts where the service trucks have not been on are filled with briars, scrub and big railroad ballast rocks...tough going for a mtn bke but do-able in a pinch.
I decided to make some improvements. Understanding that the railroad probably frowns on mtn bke trail building on it's right of way, ( especially since 9/11) I decided to make this a Ninja mission. Cunning, deceit, deception were the watchwords. I had to be able to do this in a highly visible area ( trains were coming by) while appearing to be doing something else...harmless.
I know that engineers are used to seeing rail fans with cameras in hand hanging out on the right of way. Their hobby is trainspotting/photographing and they always give these folks a friendly wave. This is pretty harmless stuff. So in addition to my pruners and clippers I had my camera. Whenever I spotted a train approaching I would drop the tools and get out my camera and pretend to be taking pix. Perfect! Then back to work. The trail is pretty much finished except for some cosmetic work. I occasionally ride it at night.
Now here is the great part. There are places where the trail is only ten feet or so from the tracks. At night it is a big scarey rush...o.k. mostly scarey...to be biking ten feet from a big assed coal train. There is a true draft effect, there is coal dust swirling and these trains are sometimes hauling at 45 mph or so, the earth is shaking. I am shaking. If the train and I are going in the same direction it can take ten to fifteen minutes for it to pass me. I get scared. I keep thinking about what I would look like if a train wrecked and mushed me. EEEEEEEWWWWWWW...!!!!!

Retirement

As of the first of January 2007 I have officially retired from my job. More later.

Bike soup can...

I was listening to one of my patients the other day. He was telling another vet about his days in the military. One of his bros noticed that the base bumper sticker pass looked very much like the logo on the Campbell's Soup can. So this guy, cut out a Campbell's Soup label and pasted it on the front bumper of his personal car. Every time he drove up to the guard gate, they waved him thru! Obviously, this was PRE-9/11.

...anyway....as I was saying..

Things are moving nicely on the 2006 First Annual Bare Bones Mountain Cross Series in Roanoke County's Green Hill Park. Coming in November.
We have been promised the entire GHP as our venue. The course will include three creek crossings per lap, a significant amt. of climbing and a BEAUTIFUL course. Spectators will be able to see most of the course from the s/f area. This is almost unheard of in a mtn bke race. I'm excited about being back into local promoting again and especially about working with my Right Hand Woman, Wendi Schultz of RoCo P&R. As soon as Todd R. rides and measures the course I will post length and approx lap time info. As soon as I go to my Map Room I will be able to post some info on the exact amt. of climbing per lap.
This is a West Coast style course...lots of open areas, no gnarly rooty stuff, great vistas, fast, grassy, wet and easily accessible. I hope to have a map up soon.
We went to Grace's Pizza tonite and, I tell you my friends, the dining service in the RoVa is seriously biting. Ordered a Sicilian but the waitress came back and said , " No Sicilian tonite. " Ordered anchovies, got artichokes. We were three table from the front door and every time the door opened we got the Arctic Blast. This kind of crap is becoming the norm no matter where we go. I have an interesting new concept currently in R&D. It's called Eating at Home.

Things Seem to be Moving Nicely...

Vinyl Lives!

Stopped by Ron's house today to pick up some wax to add to my collection of wax records.

Saurkraut anyone?

"Grandfather, tells us another story about the good ole days."

“O.K., kids, put down that idiot "Playsatan", gather 'round and I'll tell you the story about my bro' Mojo Nixon. But first you need to do a little homework...you do know what homework is don't you? (Heeheehee)”

Now, do a computer search on Lycos.com. Type "Mojo Nixon" then scroll down to the Mojo web sites and click onto #1 Nixon, Mojo. Read the interview. Scroll down a little more to other web sites and listen to some of his music. Bathe in Mojoness. Wallow in Mojoness. Get Mojoness on your shoes, under your fingernails, between your teeth. Then come back to me and I will tell you the story of one of my brushes with fame. (Readers, you need to do this too, before you read anymore.)

(hours later)

"Grandfather, we've been to Mojoland and we want to be like Moj! We love his music, especially ‘Elvis is Everywhere’ and ‘I'm the Father of Debbie Gibson's Two-Headed Love-Child’ and ‘Big Foot Truck’. But what does this have to do with bicycles?”

(Clears throat)

“Well, back in the '70's when I was racing pansy ass road bikes, the racing community was much smaller than it is now. Everyone either knew one another by name or at least by face. I had good friends who were Junior racers, used to cart them to races and we trained together a lot. So I often hung with them at races. Also, race fields were often small enough that Junior races were combined with Senior races. So I sometimes raced with these same guys.”

“One of the Juniors was a very quiet, lanky, pimply faced kid from Danville, Va. named Kirby McMillan. He was a pretty good racer but sort of an outsider, not one of the loud clique of Juniors. About 15 years later, I had lost track of all of those people and had been introduced to the bizarre world of Mojo Nixon via, of all places, Public Radio.

I heard ‘Elvis is Everywhere’, bought the cassette and my life has been in a downward spiral since. I have a friend in North Carolina who shared my love of Moj and sent me an article from a local music rag about an appearance Moj had made at a local record shop. The article mentioned that Moj's real name was Kirby McMillan and that he was from Danville!

I looked at the picture in the article and there, without the pimples and a little heavier. It was Kirby, I mean Mojo, the guy I used to race bikes with! And that, my little ones, is my brush with the now infamous, Mojo Nixon.”

http://www.mojonixon.com/