Pandemic Pedalling: on the road again, almost.

A year ago, the Freewheeling Freelancer pedalled home, not knowing that he would not soon set out for new places to tell you about. This week, he finally rode out again. I propose to interrupt my retelling of the River Run 2017 with trip reports when I have them. First, let me tell you what has been going on since that ride from Philadelphia a year ago . Continue reading

NOVELS ON SALE!

Many of you have enjoyed the travel and the languages in this blog. Many also enjoy bicycles and bicycle travel.  There are two special events this week close to those activities: Continue reading

Baby, it’s cold outside!

Here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are one-third of the way from the Winter Solstice to the Vernal Equinox. Spring seems far away if you live north of the Florida border. My apologies to those of you suffering heat waves and wildfires. Maybe you can bookmark this space until the fires move back to North America. Continue reading

The Outer Banks and Home

Rolling out the east gate of Camp LeJeune, I left the quiet, smooth roads of the Marine Corps Base and found myself dodging potholes and pickup trucks on Bear Creek Road. At the same time, I was looking forward to riding the 56 km to Emerald Isle, the barrier island at the south end of what most people consider the Outer Banks. Nothing could spoil my mood. Continue reading

Rivanna Station

Starbucks HollymeadMonday morning, summer came back. Jack rode the bike lanes up Rio Hill and the bike path on US-29 north of Charlottesville under a cloudless sky. He appreciated not having headwinds, but a breeze would have been welcome. His bicycle kit was soaked by the time he reached the Starbucks at Hollymead Town Center. He stopped there to change into street clothes, glad that he had brought a pack of hospital bathing cloths from Hilda’s stash. Continue reading

Fifth Street

Hamilton Beach coffeemaker.jpgFriday morning, Hilda heard the coffeemaker gurgling and spitting in the kitchen. She opened her eyes and smiled. Jack’s hard body fit her back like a glove.

She could not think of a better way to start her day. Continue reading

Riding home

2018-antebellum mansionEmily dragged Mark’s father over to the van. “I believe you two already know each other.”

“Jumping Jack Rathburn!” Jim Dempsey gave Jack a warm handshake and a pat on the arm. “You’re none the worse for wear.” Continue reading