Hanceville Loop...scenic serenity

A late evening ride with the BF , P and Master. BF and P's tires were still laced with the smell of the hot melting tar of Mount Mitchell. The Masters reeked of Miller lite, which he had used the night before to buffer his pain from his Saturday dirt assault on Skyball with B. Although other options were discussed, P chose the Hanceville loop. The Hanceville loop is delightfully predictable and scattered with drying golden soy bean fields, leaning barns and the occasional crazy dog. I am always perplexed by the bicycle and everything else graveyard just before the hard left turn going out and always love the gradual climb of Hopewell rd. coming home.

The master "The Twilight Champion"

BF evidently sucked the air right out of my back tire. I found myself left alone with my first flat on the Proton wheels. It was an easy change and I was back in the garage before the first PPR was opened. Sometimes a ride like this is exactly what you need to put a weekend, that you mostly wish had never happened, behind you.

Things you find in the Trimble Super Saver

Seems to go ''hand in hand'' with my number 2 reader Richard Morningwood.

Farwell Fignon

Goodbye to one of my Tour favorites.

Sorry Lemond doped his way past you in the 89' Paris TT.

This is just a cool Blog I found. I will put it as a link, if I ever figure it out.

http://italiancyclingjournal.blogspot.com/?expref=next-blog

Mystery of Goat Island

Since I have moved to the area, I have been intrigued by the giant Island in the North East corner of Smith Lake. Every one calls this place "Goat Island". It comes by it's name honestly because of a rogue band of goats that live on the island.

On occasion, when we feel like trespassing, we like to point the old Julie B in that direction and check it out. I don't really know how big the Island is, but it is quite large, maybe 30 acres? Rock cliffs start high and submerge deep into the crystal clear water and are visible up to 15' below the surface before fading into the lakes abyss. The island is umbrellaed by a canopy of large trees that cast so much shade that there is almost no undergrowth.

Evidently this was a mountain top at some point that sat high above Ryan creek before Alabama power made the dam and flooded the valley which is now the lake bottom . It is said that the lake is 350' plus at some points.

The most interesting thing to me ,other than the goats, is the giant old wooden house. The old house has cedar siding and has obviously been standing much longer than the lake. It's tin roof is rusty and the windows have succumbed to vandals. Keeping the old house company is a 50's model truck with "Tucker house moving" hand painted on the door. Some have told me that although the house is older than the lake, the Tuckers continued to live on the island after the lake was complete and had a barge to take the truck to the main land. I can just see an old timer wearing boots with no laces and grasping a shotgun on the front porch ,refusing to leave, as the lake makes a steady rise. Straight out of an "Waltons episode" huh?

Anyway, it's a peaceful place with killer views from any direction. It would be cool to see it made into a wildlife refuge or a managed boaters campground someday. Until then, I guess it will just remain a playground for goats, raccoons, vandals and little explorers.

Saturday

First real climb this year

Those who know, know

Enough said

Comfort food in "The Front Porch Capital of the South"

I am always surprised that there isn't more blogs and ect. found in a google search on the old beach route Alabama hwy 331. I have driven the famous "Route 66" and believe that this stretch rivals it pretty well. The road has a wealth of decaying icons paying tributes to the past glory days of the great American two lane. There are several one level motels, mostly abandon or turned into flea markets, multiple dead gas stations and a hand full of towns that have fallen victim to interstates and out sourcing. They're crumbling facades, rusty junk cars, sleepy old timers propped against brick walls (like out of the movies) make for interesting travel. A few of the many are Luverne, Opp, Florala and my favorite, Brantley "The front porch capital of the South".

If you drive down 331 main street, you will see exactly why it has this name. Every beautiful 1900 era house has a front porch that literally encroaches on the highway. Some of these houses are really nice and some are in disrepair. http://www.townofbrantley.com/

On our last return from Grayton Beach, after passing through Brantley for years and not stopping, I decided to stop into the Southern Foods Restaurant and smell the roses. Instead, we smelled home cooked squash, sweet potato, green beans, rutabaga and a big corn fritter.

The restaurant is on a corner in a cool turn of the century ( the last century,not this one) brick building. The ceilings are 18' white washed tongue and groove pine, tarnished with water stains from the past. The wall s are covered in black and white photos of everything from the BHS 1956 band, to photos of flag draped coffins at the train station which were returning from WWII. The Cullman connection in me made me note one photo showing what might have been the largest event in the past 70 years. Big Jim Folsom comes to Brantley March 12, 1954.

There is nothing particularly special about the place or the food, but it is definitely the place where the locals go. It was us, 4 bankers and 25 saw mill workers. I was able to find a photo of the same restaurant in the 60's. I suppose they have been cooking this same Southern sole food for a very long time. So, if you find yourself going South and don't mind being stared at, Stop in, drink a sweet tea and see whats on the menu.