Archive for the ‘Central North Carolina trips’ Category

Yes, I have done this bike ride before.  Bike thirty-five miles from Chapel Hill to Raleigh, take the 3:00 PM half hour $ 9.00 Amtrak from Raleigh to Durham, then bike fifteen miles home to Chapel Hill.    What’s not to like?

I had parked the Bike Friday on my seventh floor stair landing while I pumped up the tires and lubed the chain.

 

I got an early start in order to ride as much as possible before the temperature crept into the middle eighties.

I bicycled the mile from my apartment to the UNC campus, then down the Laurel Hill Road hill.

I crossed over the NC 54 bypass, then through the UNC Finley golf course.

I took a right on the bike path along NC 54, then another right on Barbee Chapel Road.

 

I bicycled a mile or two further, then took a right on Stagecoach Road, and then took a brief left onto NC 751 for only about a quarter mile.

With a right on Massey Chapel Road I accessed the American Tobacco Trail.

 

This paved trail continues south another ten or fifteen miles, but I got off after about five miles, bicycling through a subdivision in western Cary and Morrisville called Amberly.    Much of it is what my friend Tom Constantine calls a “faux-ville”, Georgetownish townhouses here in these exurbs, built on recently transformed cow pastures.

Just a little further on just before crossing NC 55 new apartments are rising up.

 

McCrimmon Parkway ends at the wide four lane NC55.

 

I did NOT bicycle on NC 55.   I jumped across to Good Hope Church Road, which leads to Morrisville-Carpenter Road.    There is a Starbucks at the cross with Davis Drive.  I stopped, got an almond milk latte and sat and read my Kindle.  While these exurbs looked uniform and preplanned the people at this Starbucks were multicultural looking, lots of South Asians and Asians.   Continuing on, Morrisville-Carpenter Road does not have much traffic,  has a wide shoulder and feels pretty safe most of the way.   The NCDOT builds these roads insanely wider than necessary.

This road goes all the way to Morrisville, near RDU airport.   I took a right on NC54, then an immediate left into the Weston Estates neighborhood.   There were large tract houses.

With a couple more rights and lefts I found Dynasty Drive, which along the way changes its name to Electra Drive.    For several miles this street takes a bicyclist up and down hills through Beaver Cleaver residential neighborhoods.

 

Electra Drive dead ends on Trinity Road.   If you take a left on Trinity this leads you into the Raleigh city limits.    Trinity Road is really wide but normally has little traffic.   It passes by the NC State Fairgrounds and Carter-Finley Stadium, home of NC State football.

If a bicyclist takes a right onto Blue Ridge Road and a left on Beryl Road we have made it.  We are actually in the real Raleigh!    The NC State campus is on the right.   I bicycled down Clark Avenue through early twentieth century neighborhoods.  In the area called Cameron Park I had not realized how nice these neighborhoods are.

 

Raleigh is economically booming and lots of people want to live close to downtown.   Clearly some of these people have money.    Near St. Mary’s school these seventeen townhouses are just being completed, surrounded by small circa 1910 houses.  The sign says prices “start” at 1.1 million but a check of the website shows most cost close to two million.

 

 

 

Bicycle riding feels safe and easy in the older neighborhoods of Raleigh, and within its downtown.   There are a lot of new apartment buildings downtown, some with pretentious names.

Among the tall buildings I had lunch at Bida Manda Laotian Restaurant.   It was jammed at lunchtime with trendy looking people who look like they have some kind of trendily important job, most likely in tech.   Red Hat headquarters is around the corner; they were just bought out by IBM.

Chicken fried rice for $ 11.75 seemed a safe choice.   It was only just O.K.

 

 

The restaurant is across the street from Moore Square park.   The city just spent a bunch of money re-doing the whole park with a seeming objective of making it less full of homeless people.   The re-do is quite nice and the few homeless looking people on the benches do not seem to detract from the public space experience.   I sat in a spot in the shade and read some more of The New Yorker on my Kindle.

 

The train to Durham was scheduled for 3:00 PM.   At 2:30 I bicycled over to the new Union Station, about five minutes away.    On the way, near the station in the warehouse district I passed the newly opened two-level Weaver Street Market, named after the street in Carrboro, thirty-five miles away.   There is finally a grocery store downtown.

I arrived at the station in plenty of time.   The new Union Station is a beautiful facility.

 

In the first minute of the train ride it passes right in front of the state prison.

 

The intra-North Carolina Amtrak trains have a baggage car space where you can hand them your bicycle, no extra charge.   I arrived into Durham in half an hour, no problems.

The bike ride back home to Chapel Hill from Durham was also no problem.   This has never been a particularly pleasant bike ride.   It has gotten much better just this year when Old Chapel Hill Road was repaved and widened with a bike lane.

I had always wanted to bicycle to Martinsville VA, just to see what was there.   I do know that it is a fading textile and furniture manufacturing town.   Greensboro as a starting point put me sixty miles closer to my destination.    With the Bike Friday in the back I drove a little over an hour west from Chapel Hill to Greensboro.   I did not know where to safely park for three days, so I just chose a residential neighborhood where people were already parking on the street; a neighborhood slightly northwest of downtown.   I pulled the bicycle out the back.   Martinsville was fifty-five to sixty miles away, almost straight north.

This was the bike ride over three days.

The first part of the ride was through Irving Park, which surrounds the Greensboro Country Club.   Some people still like having a huge house opening onto a golf course.

 

 

Courtesy of work by the NCDOT in the 1950’s and 60’s, Greensboro may be the worst bicycling city in America.   One can bicycle through individual neighborhoods, but these neighborhoods are isolated by huge freeway-like arterial roads with fast moving traffic.  Think Wendover Avenue, Battleground Avenue, Friendly Avenue.   They go on and on.

Greensboro has recently tried to make amends to bicyclists.   There are now a decent number of greenways including the Atlantic & Yadkin rail trail, which extends for about ten miles straight north from north central Greensboro.

 

 

North Carolina calls itself “the good roads state.”   I bicycled over this freeway under construction across north Greensboro.   I think I have my facts straight on the outer loop issue.   The NCDOT probably intentionally makes their actions obtuse.  Back in the late 1980’s the NC General Assembly,  pushed by Charlotte real estate interests, passed a gas tax increase where the proceeds were specifically limited to funding only a list of outer loops around the largest North Carolina cities.   This tax continues and the building goes on.    Insanity.

After the A&Y trail ended I could continue on country roads.   Even though this was a weekday the traffic was light and the cycling pleasant.

 

North Carolina wrote the book on suburban sprawl.    Housing subdivisions continue for miles and miles north of Greensboro.   Eventually the housing petered out and I was bicycling through former tobacco fields and abandoned tobacco barns, and the occasional tobacco crop.

Thirty miles north of Greensboro is Madison NC.   I was impressed Madison has its own locally owned coffee house, but I was not in the mood for coffee.  I wanted lunch.

 

Lunch would be barbecue at Fuzzy’s.

I always get the same thing at these kind of places, barbecue sandwich with slaw on top and a small Brunswick stew.   The whole meal was less than five dollars.

 

Martinsville was still almost thirty miles further.   Leaving Madison the terrain got progressively hillier as I rode north.    The final push was all uphill, as Martinsville sits on a bluff above the Smith River.  Little of downtown Martinsville warranted photographs; it was something of a letdown.

I was really tired.  This had been a long ride and the last part had been uphill.   There was at least was one place open downtown, the Daily Grind.   I collapsed into a chair to drink an almond milk latte.

 

There was no place to stay overnight downtown.   I would have to go back down the hill to the motels along the older highway.    Yes, there were a couple restaurants downtown for dinner this night, but rain was predicted and there was no way I was bicycling back up that hill.   I coasted downhill.

If one reads Trip Advisor and Hotels.Com reviews carefully one can sometimes find a cheap old motel that is NOT dirty and depressing.   Just like the reviews said, the Scottish Inn is owned by a South Asian family who seems to care about details.   The bed and other furniture were new, as were many of the bathroom fixtures. $46.00 including tax is a good deal.

 

Also a good deal was Los Norteños Mexican restaurant across the street.   This area is not pedestrian friendly; I had to run quickly across this highway.

 

I ate at the bar.

I had just been in New York City a week earlier and was shocked that even “affordable” restaurants were charging $ 14.00 or more for a glass of wine.    This is only a theory but I’ll bet the two restaurants in downtown Martinsville charge $ 8.00-10.00 for a glass of wine.     Three miles away on the highway at Los Norteños an imported beer costs $ 2.75.     In Greensboro sixty miles away or in Chapel Hill it is easy to spend, with drinks, way more than $60.00 per person for dinner.   Here I ordered exactly what I wanted and WITH two drinks the total bill, before tip, was $ 15.66.   I also ate a ton of chips and salsa for which there was, of course, no charge.

 

I walked and ran back across the highway to my motel room.

 

The next morning I started early, to beat the heat.   This guy was having a smoke.

At 7:30 AM I passed this nice piece of commercial modernism.   These Martinizing buildings used to be all over Virginia.

 

My bicycle ride today would be thirty something miles over very hilly terrain to Stuart VA.   This area is all not technically part of the Appalachians, it is the Foothills.   The crest of the Appalachians is only a few miles to the west as my ride paralleled the ridge.  Martinsville and nearby Bassett are very industrial with textile and furniture factories, many or most permanently shuttered.

 

1962 Falcon

 

 

 

 

 

I entered Stuart on a back road where this completely abandoned lumber factory sits next to downtown.

 

Stuart VA (population 1,400) was renamed in 1884 after the Civil War general, who was born nearby.

At the Stuart Family Restaurant, on the site of what looks like a former Wendy’s my breakfast-as-lunch (two eggs over easy, bacon, grits, whole wheat toast, coffee) was delicious and included as many cups of coffee as I wanted.  There was no rush.  It cost $ 4.67.

Stuart at population 1400 has two downtowns, Uptown and Downtown.   It is quite a hike uphill between the two.   Uptown has the courthouse, two hotels, and a locally owned coffee house.

 

Just a block uphill from the coffee house was the Uptown Suites of Stuart, unusual in that someone is actually using the second story of an old downtown building in its initial use as a hotel.  My room inside seemed all new.  I believe the owner has other interests in town and there is not a full-time desk clerk.  There was great TV.

 

 

 

For dinner that night I walked down the steep hill from Uptown even though it seemed as if very few locals ever walk this route.  I ate at Tony’s which on a Saturday night had only one other patron.    Eggplant parmesan was delicious, and with a first course salad and one beer cost $ 10.83 total.

 

 

The next morning I got up and bicycled sixty miles back to my car in Greensboro.    The early morning light made the countryside look vivid.

 

 

Fifteen miles south of Stuart VA I had breakfast at Pinto’s Cafe which sits by itself on a two lane state highway in northern Stokes County NC.    It felt very “out there.”   Total bill was $3.80 for eggs, bacon, grits, toast, and coffee.

 

Back in Greensboro, my car was still there, although the guy whose house I parked in front of came out and talked to me.   He was really nice, he just wanted to know whose car that was!   He congratulated me on my bike ride.

 

This is a fascinating forty-nine mile loop.   Bike one direction from central Raleigh to Clayton along the Walnut Creek / Neuse River bicycle path.  Drink a coffee in downtown Clayton then bicycle back to Raleigh along Old US 70.   There is a lot of new and old North Carolina spread along this route.

I drove our car with my bicycle in the back the half an hour from our home in Chapel Hill to the near side of Raleigh.  Exiting I-40 onto Wade Avenue,  just after passing Whole Foods on the left I took a right on Dogwood Lane and parked the car on that street in a wooded neighborhood.    I pulled the bicycle out of the back.   This was my bike ride.

 

Raleigh’s real estate market is booming and has been so for thirty years.   A lot has been written about gentrification where young white people are moving into African-American neighborhoods.    The New York Times recently had an article that used Raleigh as an example of this trend.   What was not discussed is a parallel teardowner trend, previously “affordable” 1960’s white neighborhoods of inside-the-beltline Raleigh where “normal” houses are being replaced by much larger mini-mansions.

Homeowners and developers are tearing down houses that look like this:

 

and this:

The torn down house is replaced by houses that look like this:

and this:

The above photos were all taken near where my bicycle ride started, in the Dixie Forest and Forest Hills subdivisions.    The parallel trend on the other sided of town is the one The  New York Times was covering.   I biked east along Hillsborough Road, then through downtown and then through mostly African-American neighborhoods south and east of downtown.   Houses that look like this:

and this:

are being replaced by usually wealthier young white people  moving into newly built houses like this:

and this:

and even very attractive but expensive modernist row houses like this:

I biked past these neighborhoods into the greenway system.   In these same past thirty years Raleigh has developed what has to be one of the best systems of greenways in the America.   Most follow stream beds and sewer lines.  Only one of many greenways in Raleigh starts in the mostly African-American southeast side.   One can bike on greenways first along Walnut Creek, then along the Neuse River for almost twenty miles on perfectly paved and manicured greenways, ending in the town of Clayton in Johnston County.

 

When biking on public thoroughfares one has to learn when to ignore signs.   The first part of the Walnut Creek trail was “closed.”   What could I do?  I had nowhere else to go.  I did not want to bicycle on busy roads during a weekday.   I just ignored the signs, the trail was fine.

 

The Neuse River Trail ends about a mile from downtown Clayton.   From the trail parking lot  take a left on O’Neil Street, bicycle up the hill.

I have bicycled over many parts of America.  In past five – ten years I have noticed that locally owned coffee houses are opening up in previously vacant downtowns, functioning as a “third space” for all sorts of people.  They are opening in towns that one would not think would have a coffee house.  Maybe Starbucks has awakened a market.  On my previous trip to Boulevard in Clayton the barista was wearing something you would not see in Chapel Hill or Durham; a hat and shirt professing his Christian faith.  On the other hand here in Clayton at 10:30 AM on a Monday another barista was pouring a round of mimosas into champagne glasses for a group of middle aged women who were clearly celebrating something!  I got a soy milk latte and read The New Yorker on my kindle.

 

If you include I-40 there are about four parallel highways covering the seventeen miles from Clayton to Raleigh.   Main Street in Clayton is part of the oldest, the original US70.   On the newer routes these seventeen miles into Raleigh are mostly a continuous line of Walmarts and strip malls.   Nevertheless Old US70 from Clayton to downtown Raleigh is a trip back in time and a very nice bike ride.   It has very little traffic, even on a weekday.

 

 

For those interested in historic gas stations, (what you are not?) Old US70 has several.   The first is right here is Clayton.

 

Notice the prerequisite old men sitting on the bench out front.

I told these guys that this was the oldest looking gas station I had ever seen that still sold gas.   The guy on right seemed to know a lot about it; he knew the names of the current and past owners.   He claimed the building is from the 1920’s.   If so, that is a very old gas station.

Here are three other gas stations I noticed on Old US70.

 

 

There is also this modernist car wash.

About halfway to Raleigh I was confronted again by a closed road.    There is construction where Old US70 crosses I-40.    I ignored the signs and soldiered on.  It certainly reduces the car traffic!   Crossing the overpass through the blocked road on a bicycle was not a problem.

I passed these interesting buildings.

 

 

 

Old US70 approaches downtown Raleigh from the African-American side of town.   Likely because of the intrinsic racism of the commercial real estate market there are very few stores close to downtown when coming from the southeast.  Near downtown the road passes by metal recyclers and other waste industries.   One can bicycle right into downtown with hardly any traffic.   Downtown Raleigh and its adjacent warehouse district are booming.

Even with all this new development it is striking how much of America’s downtowns was built in the 1920’s when money was flowing freely.  The Sir Walter Raleigh, currently being redone.

 

It was just a couple miles further past downtown to my car parked on a residential street.   I passed by the NC State Campus fronting Hillsborough Street.   It has a long recognized architecture school.   A lot of 1950’s-60’s modernist public buildings survive around here.   I got back to my car and was home in Chapel Hill in time for a late lunch.

 

 

Raleigh is at least thirty-five miles by bicycle from my home on the Chapel Hill / Carrboro line.   Sure, I have completed that 70+ mile roundtrip once or twice during the past thirty years,  but such a ride is a stretch, especially on a route that involves lots of stops and starts and turns.   Why not bicycle to Raleigh, take the Amtrak from Raleigh to Durham, and then bicycle the fifteen miles home from downtown Durham?

It was almost 11:00 AM before I left Chapel Hill on a Monday morning.   The wind was at my back.

It has taken me years to work out a somewhat safe bicycle route from Chapel Hill to Raleigh, a route that lets one bicycle mostly on residential streets or bike paths.   It shows the ineffectiveness of our state government that we have to figure this out on our own, or that this is the “safe” route.    Those uninterested in these weeds can skip to below the map.

From Franklin Street, go through the UNC Campus down the hill on Laurel Hill Road.   Cross over Bypass at the light and continue by Finley Golf Course.   Take a right on the bike path along highway 54, then take a right on Barbee Chapel Road, then Stagecoach Road, then left on highway 751 for about 200 yards before right on Massey Chapel Road to get on the American Tobacco Trail.   Take that paved trail about five miles to O’Kelly Chapel Road, where you go left.  In about a quarter mile, take a right on Del Webb Avenue through the Amberly real estate development.  Continue straight and the road changes name to McCrimmon Parkway .  This ends at the four lane highway 55.     Go right and bike about 100 yards, then jump the median to Good Hope Church Road.   Take that to the end (about a quarter mile) then left on Morrisville Carpenter Road.

Morrisville Carpenter Road is mostly safe and wide for the several miles to downtown Morrisville and Highway 54.   Go right on 54 for about a quarter mile, then left on the residential street Keybridge Drive.   Immediate right on Kalvesta Drive, then left on Glenspring Way, then right on Weston Estates Way.  After this crosses Weston Parkway it changes name to Sheldon Drive and ends at Cary Parkway.   Go left for only about a quarter mile on that busy road, then right on Winfair Drive.   Take this a few blocks to Evans Road, go right for about a quarter mile, then left on Dynasty Drive.   Dynasty Drive changes name to Elektra Drive, but this residential street continues for several miles up and down hills through quiet neighborhoods, all the way to the intersection of Trinity Road.

Left on Trinity Road and you are almost at the Raleigh city limits.  Trinity Road goes by the State Fairgrounds and Carter-Finley Stadium.  Right on Blue Ridge Road, go down the hill and across Highway 54, immediate left on Beryl Road.

By now you are in Raleigh at Hillsborough Street near NC State.   There are several ways to downtown from here, take your choice.

 

 

 

 

The train was scheduled to leave at 3:00 PM; I had arrived downtown Raleigh with time for lunch.    Sosta is a really nice sandwich shop and coffee house I discovered by pedaling around downtown.    A tuna sandwich with sides of couscous and tabouli had real spark.   An interesting looking group of likely Red Hat employees sat at the other occupied table.   A little search on the internet shows that the owner is from Avignon, in southwestern France.

I must have been the city of Raleigh that decided to invest in a new train station.   I am sure Amtrak did not have enough money to pay for all this.   It opened less than a year ago.   It is really a lovely facility, right in the center of the warehouse district, just a few blocks from the main downtown drag Fayetteville Street.

 

To get to the tracks one walks down this modernist ramp.

There are four Amtrak trains a day from Raleigh to Durham.  Sure, the trains are old school, not glitzy like the Raleigh station.   But the train ride is very clean and peaceful in the half hour journey, stopping on the way in downtown Cary.   All these trains continue on to Greensboro, High Point, and Charlotte.    You can load your bicycle directly onto the baggage car, zero hassle.  Amtrak in other parts of America does NOT always treat bicycles so well.

The train put me in downtown Durham on time at 3:30 PM.    I still had an hour and a half of daylight left to bike the fifteen miles home.   The NCDOT is widening Chapel Hill Road in Durham county, it is getting safer to bicycle.  (Chapel Hill Road, to University Drive, to Old Chapel Hill Road to Pope Road to Ephesus Church Road)

I was home in Chapel Hill before five o’clock.

I have been married to Tootie for thirty-five years.  I have been to her hometown of Winston-Salem (twin city!) more times than I can count.  I can honestly say it is almost a second or third home to me.

Everything I ever did in Winston-Salem was on the west side.  Everything.  The west side is a land of surburban houses, Whole Foods Market, Wake Forest University, golf courses, and country clubs.  I have always thought that Winston-Salem is one of the most segregated cities I have ever visited.   Not everyone on the west side is rich, far from it.   And clearly not everyone on the east side is African-American and poor either.   But there seems to be a huge cultural gap.

Winston-Salem has been recently successful with Wake Forest University in turning a huge former tobacco factory on the east side of downtown into a center for biotechnology, a sort of urban Research Triangle Park.   I wanted to bicycle around this redeveloped neighborhood.   But first I would bicycle south of downtown, an area I really had never visited.

The historically African-American Winston-Salem State University is on the southeast side of downtown.  I had never seen any part of it, not even on a drive-by.  This Wednesday afternoon I parked the car in student parking, pulled out my bicycle, and started riding.  The tall buildings of downtown were visible in the distance.

 

I biked off heading south, passing through the campus.

 

If you go down a steep hill from WS State you can get on Salem Creek Greenway.

I biked west down the greenway for a mile or two before turning south on Main Street, which is also called Old US 52.

 

In the area south of NC School of the Arts was an attractive early twentieth century neighborhood I had never seen before.

From there I decided I would bike fifteen miles south to the town of Welcome NC, where the map indicated some kind of stock car racing museum.   I would have to check it out.

On Old Highway 52 there were well-preserved pre-WWII gas stations.

The further out I biked from Winston-Salem the more I felt I was leaving one planet and arriving at the next.   Increasingly the traffic passing me was predominantly pickup trucks.

This guy’s boat has twin banners, a blue TRUMP, and the Confederate stars and bars

 

I realized several years ago that some of the best museum experiences in America are in privately owned and operated museums.   I recommend always stopping and visiting these places, even if you do not think you have an interest in their subject.   These museums frequently display a passion not always present in a public museum.   (Tip: go visit the Hank Williams museum in Montgomery Alabama.)   For some people Richard Childress is a big deal, a huge player in the stock car world.   I confess I had never heard of him.  His Wikipedia page describes him as “one of the wealthiest men in North Carolina.”   I do not follow stock car racing.   To me the word “racing” means high school cross country running, or horse racing.   But in Welcome NC “racing” means stock car racing.    With the over 55 discount I paid $8.50 to visit the Richard Childress Racing Museum in Welcome NC.  The young women at the front desk were friendly and helpful.

There were dozens of actual racing cars artfully arranged.

 

 

Except for one elderly couple I was the only visitor on this weekday.

 

Even more, uh, interesting was the other stuff.   Richard’s former office was on display.

 

There were two or three rooms just to display all the animals that Richard Childress had killed.

 

There was his tribute to the NRA.

And of course, what stock car museum is not complete without a display honoring the music of Brooks & Dunne?

I had wandered around this surprisingly large space for almost an hour.   I had to get out of this place.    I got on the bicycle and headed back towards Winston-Salem, looking for a place to eat lunch.

In about seven miles was Cagney’s Kitchen.

It is a popular place.

 

Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, green beens, one quarter sweet tea.  The meat loaf was a little too soft and chewy for my taste.

 

All along Old US52 are prime examples of bungalow architecture.

 

 

 

A rounded top building, the tallest in the Winston-Salem skyline, was built as Wachovia Bank headquarters just before management sold out and moved to Charlotte in 2001.    As I approached the city on South Main Street / Old US 52 I could see the Big Penis rising off in the distance.

 

 

 

Just before downtown I biked up a steep hill through Old Salem.   Yes, it is wonderful that they preserved buildings dating back to the late 1700’s.  But these buildings should be used in a modern context.   Maybe it is because my parents were always dragging me to Colonial Williamsburg as a kid, but trying to re-create the year 1800 in exact detail gives me the creeps.

 

 

 

I biked through downtown, looking for a place to get a coffee.    I love the look of the Nissen Building.   It has nothing to do with the Japanese.   Nissen, based in Winston-Salem, was one of the country’s largest wagon manufacturers.   The Nissens managed to sell off the wagon business in 1925 before the Depression, and built this office building in 1926-27 with the proceeds.   The building was recently renovated into apartments.

I found the coffee shop Sweet Aromaz on Trade Street.  It makes a decent oat milk latte.    I sat around, read my Kindle, and soaked up the vibe.

I had read about Innovation Quarter in an article I read about two years ago in Politico Magazine.   The headline was How Tech helped Winston-Salem Quit Tobacco.   The North Carolina city was once a major producer of cigarettes in the country; now it’s manufacturing human organs.   The article describes how a group of influential people of Winston-Salem were watching their city decline economically.   They put aside their personal differences and worked with Wake Forest University to create this technology center.

More than fifty years ago in another part of North Carolina 100 miles east of Winston-Salem, locals changed the world by creating Research Triangle Park.  Research Triangle Park sold itself for its rural nature, a high tech campus in the piney woods surrounded by major universities.   Their first big client was IBM.  While that was all a big success, tech firms in 2018 want a more urban setting.   Young technical talent now want to live in cities.

https://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2016/10/winston-salem-technology-tobacco-town-214377

While there was not a lot of street life on this weekday, and there are huge surface parking lots,  Innovation Quarter still looks like an impressive achievement.

 

 

 

 

I wanted to leave my house and bicycle somewhere, but had no idea where to go or when to go there.  I had no agenda.  Early Sunday morning I just left, by bicycle.   Just in case, I took along my bicycle “trunk bag” with one night’s change of clothes, in case I wanted to spend the night someplace.

Tootie was reading the paper when I left the apartment about 7:45 AM

 

I keep my bicycle in a rack on level P1 of our condo building Greenbridge.

I looked back at the building from the street.    Our apartment is on the top level of the tower on the left, at the center of the photograph.

 

For those of you not from Chapel Hill, it is a relatively nice town.   The main drag is Franklin Street, which looked really empty on this Sunday morning.

One block later Franklin Street passes along the northern boundary of the University of North Carolina campus.

Until two weeks ago, a statue colloquially known as Silent Sam had stood about thirty feet to the right of the above photo.   Put up in 1913, it is of a Civil War Confederate soldier.  To quote my friend Andy Jones:  Silent Sam…was never silent. He shouted at every person of color that walked onto that campus. The photograph below is taken from Wikipedia.

 

A large group of students and others surrounded Sam three weeks ago and pulled him down.     The Republican appointed University administration does not know what to do about the situation; it is currently dithering.   On this Sunday morning I biked by Sam’s pedestal.

 

 

There had been a small riot here just the night before, two weeks after the initial tearing down.  Hundreds of anti-Sam demonstrators seemed to be picking a fight with scores of police who were protecting a tiny group of Rebel flag carrying pro-Sam demonstrators.    Sam has been controversial for years; I am not sure what there is to demonstrate for or against since Sam is gone.  I cannot image the riot that would ensue if they tried to put him back up.

At 8:00 AM the morning after the police were still here.

 

Just a few hundred hards away I passed by Old East, from 1793, the oldest state university building in America, and Old West, from 1822.

 

Lacking somewhere else to go, pointed the bicycle towards Raleigh, about thirty miles to the southeast.   After descending the hill which Chapel Hill sits on, there is a bike path along NC 54.

 

I turned down Barbee Chapel Road.

I have bicycled past this house on Stagecoach Road many times.  The house is hidden behind a fence.   The house and compound are less than ten years old, fronted by a yard much larger than is shown in this picture.     There are other large outbuildings in the same Gone With The Wind style.   I got off the bicycle, walked up to the fence, and raised the camera over my head to take this picture.    There are so many liberals in Chapel Hill and Durham that this guy must feel insecure.    Back in 2016 he had huge Trump signs on his fence.

I eventually ended up on the American Tobacco Trail greenway.

 

I could have taken the Tobacco Trail much further but instead I headed off towards Raleigh, weaving through miles and miles of subdivisions.   Many but not all are in the city of Cary.

This looks like Georgetown but these houses are less than ten years old, built on former scrub woods and abandoned tobacco farms.

The newer neighborhoods of Cary are a lot more multicultural than Chapel Hill or even Durham.    I stopped in a Starbucks to refuel and about half the people in there were Asian.

 

Later on I was weaving through this neighborhood of expensive tract mansions and these two dark complexioned women were speaking a language I could not recognize.

 

 

I crossed over NC 540, an almost new toll road to nowhere.   The road was recently written up as being “successful” in that it the tiny levels of traffic were still enough for it to make its bond payments.

 

On the western edge of the Raleigh city limits I biked by the state fairgrounds, including Dorton Arena, a modernist gem from 1952.   I was disappointed with the photo I took so I lifted this one from Wikipedia.

 

I was early for lunch but one should never pass by really good food.   Neomonde Bakery, near Meredith College in Raleigh, has the best Middle Eastern food in the Triangle.    Hummus, baba ghanoush, stuffed grape leaves, pita bread, and tabouli salad all exuded freshness.

 

What to do now?   I spent quite a while lingering over my lunch and reading The New York Times on my I-phone.   It was already thirty miles back to Chapel Hill.   Should I keep going further on?  Naah.

I left Neomonde and biked back to Chapel Hill.

 

 

Many of you remember seeing pictures of me on the blue bicycle with small wheels. I bought this new in 2002 for about $1800.00, custom made by Peregrine Bicycle Works of Chico, California.

This bicycle was fun to ride.   It performed almost as well as many conventional “road” bikes; it only weighed 22 pounds; it felt stiff and fast.  I had ridden it for so long that I was used to its eccentricities.  I rode it even when I did not need its folding capabilities.

 

It would fit in a suitcase for air travel.

 

On Amtrak I could just fold it up and lug it onboard without a case.   Getting off the train, I could reassemble it in less than a minute and bike away from the platform.

I have been in quite a few foreign countries and many states of the USA with this bicycle during the past fifteen years.   While I own a couple of other bicycles, this one has always been my favorite.    I have had a lot of maintenance done to it over the years, but I never would have predicted what happened three weeks ago.

I was out for a fifteen mile spin on country roads near my home in Chapel Hill NC.     Three fourths of the way into the ride, the bicycle started feeling “funny.”   The frame felt slightly wobbly.    I stopped about three times, shaking the bicycle and looking for problems, but could not find any.

Going slowly because it was uphill,  on Dairyland Road coming back towards Chapel Hill, just before the turnoff to Union Grove Church Road, the bicycle suddenly snapped in half, dumping me on the road.    I may have passed out for a moment, I remember thinking that I was now on the road and my shoulder was messed up.

Luckily no car ran into me and a couple cars stopped to help out.   One turned out to be my friend Brian Stapleton, who scooped the bicycle and me up.   We called my wife Tootie on the phone and she met us at our apartment and we drove to the urgent orthopedic clinic.

I have a nicely broken clavicle (collar bone), broken ribs that have been extremely painful, and a substantially bruised hip, which has resulted in swelling called a hematoma.   The hip may take months to completely heal.   Three weeks later I am walking around but still in pain.

My bicycle guru Gordon Sumerel says that this kind of structural failure should not happen ever, anytime, on any bicycle.  It was not something that I should have anticipated.   Am I angry at the manufacturer?   I have trouble getting angry at people, so not especially.   This was a hand built machine by a small business that no longer makes this kind of bicycle.   I get the impression he is almost a one man shop.   I am a small business person myself so I can understand his situation.

 

I have not decided what type of bicycle I will get to replace this.   I want to think about it for a while.

For the moment I can reminisce about just some of the places this bicycle went with me.

With Henry in the Netherlands 2006

 

 

The Netherlands 2007 (photo by Henry)

 

Northern Italy 2014

 

Rioja Valley, Spain 2015

 

with bikers in rural Spain, 2016

 

rural Spain 2016

 

 

outside Nancy, France 2017

 

Indianapolis 2016

 

rural Indiana 2016

 

Maine 20152620 Trapp Avenue, home of Tootie and Paco 1983

Outside our 1980’s apartment in Miami FL 2014

 

 

Assembling the bicycle on the streets of Paris, France 2017

 

Rural Northeast Pennsylvania 2017

 

Along the Rhone River, France 2017

 

My sister Betsy in Grand Central Station, New York City, 2017

 

Detroit MI, 2017

 

With my friend Lyman and my son Jack outside a Walmart, just south of Miami FL 2014

 

Just north of Fort Lauderdale FL, 2018

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In front of Trump’s Mar a Lago, Palm Beach FL 2016

Among the bikers, near Daytona Beach FL 2012