Yes, that's 39 miles per hour. That was my maximum speed attained on this past Thursday's ride. I've gone faster. I've actually hit 55 mph (that's a story for another day.) And yes, I know it's dangerous to go that fast on a bike with only a...
The old joke of a cyclist during racing season was the "I'm on that See Food diet. When I see food, I eat it." And that's how I feel right now. Last week I put in almost 250 miles and this week I hope to match...
During the summer time, the Upstate is visited by thousands of Indigo Buntings. These gorgeous little birds are commuters. They come here during the spring and summer to enjoy the scenery, the great food, the beautiful countryside, and to raise their families in peace. In...
That's my grand parents, Thomas and Blanche Baylor. They were cattle ranchers and they were legendary amongst other cattlemen. Tom called my mother Zinzy and at the age of five she participated in her first rodeo. Tom P. Baylor was something else and I loved...
When I was 13, I participated in a cycling fundraiser for my Boy Scout troop. I had to ask people to pledge a certain amount per mile I would ride. Most of the folks I went to agreed to donate .25 cents per mile. They...
I'm ready. On Friday morning, July 17th, I'll climb onto my Trek Road Bike and join 285 cyclists and pedal across the state of South Carolina. Yeah I know. It's gonna be hot, and cycling is dangerous, and I could hurt myself, and I’ll probably get...
That question was posed by my friend Bill Englert. It’s an intriguing question, isn’t it? How much money did the cure for Polio cost and where did it come from? And if Polio can be cured, why not Alzheimer's? If you don’t know the mind-numbing statistics,...
I'm a fairly emotional guy. I don't mean that I cry often, rather I tend to linger over fond memories. Perhaps too much. Maybe that's why I enjoy looking through old photographs. Recently my wife asked me to help her find a photo of us...
A handful of shimmering leaves, shades of green, yellow, and gold, twisted through my field of vision. Moistened by the midnight rain, they fluttered to the road, clung to the rocky shoulder, and twirled into the mist. A feathery blanket of fog melted into the...
“Mom? It’s John. Just calling to say we're home now.” We had spent an entire week with my mother. We cooked for her almost every day, took her out for oysters, looked through old photos, sat with her in the kitchen and shared coffee, and listened...