urban bicycle journeys

Several of my New Orleans coterie of friends think of “North Carolina” as an exclusively mountain destination. Geography students: the western third of North Carolina is indeed mountains. The middle third of the state is the Piedmont; rolling hilly countryside that includes most of North Carolina’s major cities. The final eastern third of the state, starting in the eastern Raleigh suburbs and stretching for more than a hundred miles in three directions is what North Carolinians call Down East.

Topographically, Down East might as well be Kansas; coastal plain often stretching as far the eye can see. Unlike the booming Charlotte and Raleigh/Durham areas, much of Down East has been economically left behind.

With Tootie’s Cannondale bicycle in the back because my Bike Friday was in the shop, on a Saturday morning I drove our Ford Escape Hybrid ninety miles from our home in Chapel Hill NC to Goldsboro NC. These maps show the bike ride I would take.

Goldsboro’s population is 33,000, only slightly more than the 29,000 way back in 1960. I found a parking spot on the street in downtown Goldsboro, next door to an Elks Lodge, in front of First Baptist Church, across the street from the police headquarters. Would my car be OK there for thirty-six hours? There were no signs restricting this spot. I crossed my fingers, removed the bicycle, and cycled out into the city.

Behind the BPOE you can see the ten story former Wayne National Bank. Goldsboro and Kinston are two of the many American cities whose tallest building continues to be one built during the boom of the 1920’s.

Temperatures were in the forties and I was wrapped in several thin layers. On this Saturday morning there was a farmer’s market in the vacant lot next to the police station.

I headed east through downtown Goldsboro. There were holiday wreaths up. Not every storefront was empty.

Goldsboro has a brewery! It was only 11:00 AM and not even open yet.

There was block after block of what look like empty former factory buildings.

I doubt anyone around here worries much about suburban sprawl. There is so much land and so few obstacles. Their modern looking hospital is on the outskirts of town.

I continued cycling east.

The landscape was flat and often featureless.

There must be people still moving here. In what seemed the middle of nowhere they are building new housing.

The only sizable town between Goldsboro and Kinston is La Grange NC, population 2,600.

In a town with almost no retail there was an operational bakery in the building on the above right. It was closed on this Saturday afternoon.

That morning back in Chapel Hill I had made a peanut butter and orange marmalade sandwich, on Dave’s whole wheat bread. I ate half of that while I continued cycling.

Kinston’s current population is 19,000. Its population in 1960 was 25,000. It has struggled to find its place in the modern economy.

Nevertheless, there are creative local entrepreneurs. Vivian Howard grew up in the Kinston area but after college moved to New York City, where she graduated from culinary school in 2004. In 2005 she and her then husband moved back to Kinston and successfully opened a downtown high-end restaurant called The Chef and The Farmer. They added a reality TV series on PBS A Chefs’ Life, which ran from 2013 to 2018, focusing on the struggles and victories of running such a restaurant. The creative director of the TV series was Cynthia Hill, also from the Kinston area. (Tellingly, Ms. Hill now lives not in Kinston but in the much more happening Durham NC. )

For over a decade well heeled folks from all over North Carolina made it an event to drive over to Kinston just to eat. The Chef and the Farmer “temporarily” closed in 2022, citing the difficulties in running a restaurant in the post-covid modern economy. Vivian sounded burned out. It currently operates only as The Kitchen Bar; a few seats where Vivian serves a four hour $300.00 tasting menu, reserved and paid for in advance. Still, Vivian appears to have made Downtown Kinston a destination. Other restaurants have opened in the vicinity.

I cycled into town.

Almost across the street from Vivian’s restaurant I found Middle Grounds Coffeehouse. I ordered an oat milk latte, one pack sugar and I pulled out my Kindle. I am currently reading Empire of Sin by Gary Kristi, about New Orleans in the 1890’s.

Two other local entrepreneurs, Stephen Hill and his son-in-law Trent Mooring have also helped revitalize downtown Kinston.

I had booked a room at their totally restored Mother Earth Motor Lodge, formerly an abandoned downtown motel.

Everything was tastefully done up in Mid-Century Modern style.

About six o’clock I walked several blocks to the Mother Earth Brewery, owned by the same people. There was a lively bar scene. Despite this being the rural South I saw more than one multiracial couple, likely more than one would see in liberal Chapel Hill. Times have changed.

Where to eat dinner? There were just a few options. Across the street and down an alley was Jay’s 108. I took a seat at the bar.

I chatted with the Asian looking bartender. He said this was one of several restaurants owned by two Goldsboro-ites, one of Korean background and one of Japanese. They specialized in Korean barbecue, Japanese sushi, and totally American hamburgers.

This was my first time having the Korean dish bulgogi. Heavily marinated fried beef strips over brown rice, topped with a fried egg were totally delicious.

I had done a lot of exercise today in cold weather and needed more food. I ordered a California roll for “dessert.”

I walked back to the motel in the dark.

The next morning temperatures were in the low thirties and I sat in bed, reading and watching TV, waiting for it to warm up outside. The free breakfast at Mother Earth Motor Lodge, like most hotels in America, was all prepackaged, with only plastic utensils. Other hotels usually offer only packets of heavily sugared Quaker instant oatmeal. Here, at least, they had the healthier unsweetened kind.

I avoid processed junk food like the plague but I needed protein for the cold weather bike ride ahead. Real breakfast is available at Lovick’s Cafe across the street but it is closed on Sunday. The only other option was a McDonalds. My motel’s free food was likely just as good. From their breakfast bar mini-fridge I microwaved a pack of two pre-made sausage biscuits. I can’t believe I ate the whole thing.

Back in my room I stared at Tootie’s bicycle. To the casual observer bicycles look alike but you get what you pay for. More than fifteen years ago we spent $1600.00 on this Cannondale even though Cannondale then sold another bike looking almost the same for less than half that. Our more expensive model had higher quality components; better wheels, gears, bearings, and brakes. Its Group 105 brand shifters just work more smoothly. With only perfunctory maintenance this bike still runs like a watch. Tootie has ridden it on more than one tour in Europe.

I cycled out into the cold, first looping through the prosperous northwest side of Kinston.

I passed by the Kinston Country Club. Beside its golf course sat shiny new pickle ball courts. One of the houses in this neighborhood had its own military memorial, in their yard but out next to the street.

Adjacent to this neighborhood there were new houses going up.

I cycled back towards Goldsboro, trying to take a different route than the day before. The tiny town of La Grange NC was preparing for their annual Christmas parade.

People I don’t know were looking at an old gas station, La Grange NC

I was back on the road. It was too cold to stop and linger over lunch but while pedaling I scarfed down that other half of peanut butter sandwich from the day before.

Goldsboro is home of Seymour Johnson Air Force Base. While some may call Goldsboro a “town” when arriving by bicycle it felt like a big city. I must have chosen the wrong highway as I cycled in scary heavy traffic through miles of depressing rundown commercial sprawl and semi-abandoned strip malls. A beat-up modernist ex-gas station was perhaps the best looking thing in that stretch.

Once in the older part of town I did find an attractive neighborhood around Goldsboro High School.

I haven’t mentioned barbecue. Down East is famous for barbecue. It is usually quite rule-bound; chopped pork with vinegar sauce, served on a bun and topped with coleslaw. Kinston and Goldsboro are home of several famous barbecue restaurants, Maybe because of the smoke or maybe because of tradition, those restaurants are almost always away from downtowns and out on less bicycle friendly highways. For me, this time, barbecue would have to wait for another visit.

At 3:00 PM on a Sunday afternoon in downtown Goldsboro I thought about going to that brewery for a cold one but I just wanted to go home. My car was still where I had parked it. I drove the hour and a half back to Chapel Hill.