When I was in High school, I ran track. I wasn’t that good but I did it. I suppose I was in pretty good shape because I rode bikes a lot, as well. The 10-speed craze was in full swing and my friends and I would go to Rocky Springs on the Natchez Trace, camp for the night, and ride back the next day. There were days we would go there and back in a day. That’s close to 70 miles. One time I was pedaling with a couple of other friends and we got tired. They stayed behind to take a nap and I went on ahead because there was a grocery store right off the Trace where I knew I could get a drink. My two sweaty friends stretched out in the grass but it was too itchy so they decided to take a nap on the nice clean pavement and wave cars around since there wasn’t a lot of traffic that day. They didn’t look too carefully because when they waved a Smoky around he stopped and they got a ticket. It’s a national parkway. They had to go to court and write a paper on the dangers of sleeping in the road. I think they had to do some other things too. I’m sure it put a dent in their summer.

I, on the other hand, got my cold RC at this store and lived to tell.

As I was finishing up, I met the son of the owner. He told me he passed away last week.