urban bicycle journeys

A section of Old US-1 in central North Carolina is a genuine piece of Americana. Route 66 is more famous but US-1 has a similar story. US-1 was designated in the 1920’s as the original Maine to Florida highway. Twenty-five miles from my home in Chapel Hill NC I parked our old 2004 Honda at a brand new looking Chatham County ABC store. While I consider this corner of Chatham County as being “out there” it is slowly filling with suburban sprawl. I pulled my Bike Friday out of the trunk.

I bicycled over the US-1 freeway.

I continued half a mile to “Old US 1” which parallels the freeway.

This stretch of Old US-1 has very little traffic and feels quite safe to bicycle. My plan was to cycle the fourteen miles to Sanford, eat lunch, then cycle back a different way.

I first explored the “town” of Moncure NC.

Moncure is hardly a town. Because it is a doable but lengthy commute to Chapel Hill, Sanford, and Raleigh, artsy types have been living around here for years. Old US-1 gives a vibe from the 1950’s or even earlier.

Moncure NC must have first been a railroad stop. A quarter mile off Old US-1, down by the tracks, there is an actual “downtown” to this “town.” A still operating U.S. Post Office is on the far right of the photo below. The other two buildings have been rehabbed and are for rent.

I cycled back to Old US1 and re-passed Ray’s Super Market.

There used to be a bank in town, now it is somewhere to store old Mercedes.

Further east both of these must have once been gas stations when this was a major highway.

Just west of Moncure I cycled over Deep River and saw some kind of water powered mill.

I continued onward towards Sanford, passing various buildings, some of which might have been gas stations when Old US-1 was a major highway.

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Near Sanford this motel is now Shady Oak Apartments.

A 1980’s El Camino sat in someone’s front yard.

It reminded me of a phrase from a James McMurtry song:

So I wrecked the El Camino

Coulda been DWI

So I just went off and left it

Layin’ on its side.

The troopers found it in the morning

Said purely luck I wasn’t killed.

Said I aught to quit my drinkin’

But I don’t believe I will

This is map of my ride that day; Moncure to Sanford and back.

Sanford NC (population 30,000) is not a particularly old city. It was developed early in the twentieth century as a rail hub and has always had substantial manufacturing. I glided into downtown on this Sunday morning.

Sanford’s apparent tallest building is the Wilrik Hotel; built (of course!) in the 1920’s. It is now low income apartments.

There is an Art Deco armory, now a rec center.

Downtown Sanford has the inviting downtown Family Grounds Coffee House but its lunch offerings were meager. Most restaurants were closed on Sunday. Nearby I found the pupuseria La Guera.

I wasn’t sure what a pupusa was; it is a filling surrounded by cornmeal batter, then fried like a pancake. I chose two birria (stewed beef) pupusas; greasy but delicious. They give you a side of cabbage salad, all on an actual plate but with only disposable plastic utensils.

This bike ride was only a couple of weeks after our new president had claimed to start his crackdown on immigration. I was surprised that the young woman taking my order spoke only halting English. La Guera’s checkout counter was strewn with handouts from an organization that assists undocumented immigrants.

I biked back to Moncure on a different route. While the south side of Sanford has miles of commercial sprawl and its attendant heavy traffic, on its poorer northeast side a bicyclist can easily transition from a residential neighborhood to a thin and gentle highway called Lower Moncure Road. I was soon out in the countryside by myself. A car passed only every few minutes.

Timber seems a decent business out here.

I arrived back at my car in the ABC store parking lot, then bought a canned Starbucks coffee drink at the country store across the highway, for the half hour drive back to Chapel Hill.