Someone said to me this week, “Experiences are those things other people have while I’m at work doing the same thing day after day.”

These words are as good as any for summing up what has made me take to the road.

Sure, I had a good life at home – nice diggs, steady job, loving wife (perfect is the word, really), healthy family, comfortable chair, 500 channels on TV.

But, somewhere along the way I began to wonder if there was something else.  I mean, the really important stuff I’ve just listed I get to take with me.  Is there more than what I am being shown on TV?

I began to feel an intangible tug that there was something happening somewhere and maybe if I went out into the world it would find me. Deep down, though, I feared that we had become homogenized to mass appeal.  Food everywhere was the same. Except for Brussel sprouts, there isn’t much left that some people love and some people hate (I hate them and secretly suspect that anyone who claims to love them is just messing with me. It’s a running joke like the jack-a-lope out west).

I set out in the hopes of finding it, even if I didn’t know what it was. I wanted the bizarre, the unique, the outrageous! Yes, yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking,  “Hello? Uhm…Trixie…your wife…all those things and more.”

Well, I want more. I want…Americana. I want to eat what I hunger for, not what I’m fed. So, I jumped into the EM-50 Phantom Rambler and off I sped.

My first stop was Front Royal, Va – trailhead of Shenandoah National Park.

I found a parking spot at Wal-Mart, poked through my food stores and decided that so early into a life-changing undertaking a little separation anxiety was to be expected.  So, I walked across the parking lot to seek comfort in the familiar surroundings of Applebee’s. The food was ok.

Early the next morning I entered the park. I hiked. Fresh air; sunshine. The sweet weight of the pack on my back squeaking and swaying and I strode.

I drove along scenic Skyline Drive, stopping at several overlooks and beheld the beauty of early autumn in the mountains. (pic related)

I drove south to the town of Luray, Va. I bought a day pass at the local gymnasium so I could shower. I felt the soothing relaxation that comes after exertion.

I decided a treat was in order for all my effort. I went to Applebee’s.  The food was ok.

Afterward I went to the local movie theatre to see “The Martian” and got the fulfilling experience of saving another human being’s life (sort of, but not really. I posted about it in “Tommy Conquers the Martians”). Then a good night’s sleep.

The next day brought more hiking. The trail I chose took me past the dilapidated and all but forgotten farms of the Fox and Snead families. A small family graveyard sprinkled with half a dozen century-old headstones stands as a chilling reminder of how fleeting our struggles, happiness, lives and lasting imprint in this world really is. (pic related)

I rambled around rural Virginia for a couple more days. I visited Foamhenge and the  WONDER! that is The Natural Bridge (meh). Friday night found me (along with Scooby and the gang) in West Virginia at a haunted and abandoned amusement park that was built on an Indian burial ground (no matter how many times I type that, I can’t believe someone thought it would be a good idea) that I chronicled in “Tommy Touches the Etheric Plane”.

I drove to the little town of Danville, Va just to see if the rumors were true that they had the best Applebee’s in all of Dixie. The food was ok.

Even God rested on Sunday (or Saturday, depending on who you allow to speak with authority on such matters) so I decided to have a little bit of goofy fun. I drove to Mt Airy, NC. The boyhood home of TV legend Andy Griffith and purported inspiration for the setting of Mayberry.

I visited the Andy Griffith Museum (pic related)

Which shares the grounds with the museum of Chang and Eng Bunker – the original Siamese Twins. (Not sure how well the pic came out. One building is in brightest day, the other in darkest night. Where’s the Green Lantern when you need him?)

I didn’t go inside. They wanted six bucks. Which I would have paid. But, then they added 42 cents tax. Ok. No big. Then they said I wouldn’t be able to take pics. Grrr.

Even still, I handed over my debit card and was told there would be a charge of $2.50 for using the card.  I took the hint and left.

I rode around town and saw some the sights. Found the fillin’ station (pic related)

Everything is so different in black & white.

Next on my agenda was to cruise the Blue Ridge Highway. It is said to be among the most scenic roads in America. I headed west.

But, before I could get there, I passed a sign deep in the nowheres of Lowgap, NC (pic related)

Now, this, is an experience my C.V. is lacking.

I was 4 hours late on the last day of the competition, but I made the turn.

The competition was for high school and junior high school (no “middle school” nonsense here) boys and girls.

I was informed that all that was left was some goat roping and the bull riding. Hell, I didn’t know there was more to it than that.

About 5 seconds into watching junior high goat roping, I decided it was the greatest sporting event I had ever seen.

A young girl would ride a horse into the arena, at TOP SPEED mind you, dismount, sprint toward a tethered goat (who, for his part, knew exactly what was coming and seemed to want no part of it) lift him by his two right legs, body slam him onto his side, kneel, produce a rope from thin air, tie his hooves together, then she would wash her hands in the air all in one fluid motion.

I was amazed. I was also the only one watching.

These people are here every week. To them, the amazing thing was a grown ass man who had never been to a rodeo before.

I heard more than once, “I ain’t never met no one that ain’t been to a rodeo before.”  Then, slightly embarrassed they would add, “‘cept young uns.”

I did stand out, I admit. For one thing, I was the only one present not wearing jeans…or a cowboy hat…or something called, “shit kickers”.

The folks were nice and accomodating. They didn’t even charge me the $5 admission. Also, the play-by-play announcer, who was up high in a booth across the field made it clear that word had reached him that a noob was about.

When we got to the bull riding portion of the the event, his announcements became overly explanatory. Which I appreciated greatly.

The first bull charged out of the gate with the high schooler flailing about atop. He hung on for well past 8 seconds. Not sure how I know that to be the goal. After his dismount the announcer said over the PA, “Aww, too bad…ahem, you see, although young Clayton there managed to stay on for long enough, he reached down and slapped the bull before 8 seconds. This is a violation of the rules and results in no score.”

I had to take their word for it. All I saw was a blur. But, I am sure no one there needed the rules explained. It was a concession that was made to help me enjoy the show.

The final event of the weekend was the junior high boys bull riding. Now before you go getting all worked up, no they do not just set a 10 year old boy on top of a raging slab of angry muscle then tie his hand to it. They make him put on a batting helmet first. Which is a good thing, too because 3 seconds in, the bull flung the kid then charged over and stepped on his head. I shit you not. I have it on video but the upload is slow.

From there, I enjoyed the scenic drive down the fabled Blue Ridge Parkway to Boone, NC.

Man, that parkway is dark. I stopped at an overlook and shot this (pic related)

And that is with the flash ON.

All in all, it was a pretty good week.

The only thing missing is…Michelle Long.