Could be worse. Not sure how, but it could be. (Eeyore, Winnie the Pooh)

Cough, cough, cough.

Al and I have had chest colds for over a week now. Every time we increase intensity on bike rides, the coughing gets worse. Bummer.

The problem with having a cold is that there really isn't anything you can actually do about it. Drink lots of fluids. (Check.) Rest. (Check.) Wait for it to run its course. (Check.)

By my calculations, we will be over this before we start riding on the Blue Ridge Parkway. At least that's my hope. If not, we're going to have some interesting climbs. And it isn't like you can avoid climbing. The one thing I remember vividly from living up there was that there were no flat roads, just roads that didn't go up and down quite as much.

I've got those Blue Ridge Mountain blues. (Cliff Hess)

Some places have magic. They can form a special bond which remains even when you move far away. They can surprise you, sending you peaceful yet melancholy memories at random moments throughout your life. The Blue Ridge Mountains have that kind of magic for me.

We had two homes in the Blue Ridge. I particularly loved our first, a small log home perched on a low ridge surrounded by national forest. The large back porch faced the mountain where the Appalachian Trail crossed the highway at Neels Gap's Walasi-yi Center. At twilight they switched on the porch light there. It looked like a twinkling star up on the mountain. Sometimes I'd sit out on our porch as darkness fell, gazing at that twinkling light and listening to the sound of the evening breeze in the forest's trees.

I love the green lushness of South Florida. I love spotting peacocks, parrots, and macaws on our bike rides around town. I love the palm trees and the ocean at dawn. I love the busy causeways to the islands and the quiet tracks in the Everglades. But when a friend posts a photo from the Blue Ridge Mountains, or I hear a snatch of bluegrass music, I once again begin to long for hazy mountain vistas and the whispering sounds of the forest.

Al and I talked this spring. We needed to take a trip back to the Blue Ridge. We decided on going to the Blue Ridge Parkway. Yet somewhere on the BRP that was new to us, somewhere we hadn't been to before. Why not Mt. Airy, North Carolina? A real place that most people know by a fictional name: Mayberry. It's the basis for the little country town of that old TV sitcom, The Andy Griffith Show. The one with Sheriff Andy, Deputy Barney Fife, Aunt Bee, and little Opie. Lots of nice roads for long bike rides there, too.

I'm smiling just thinking about it.

I think sometimes the best training is to rest. (Cristiano Ronaldo)

Sometimes to go faster, you need to slow down.

I'm like everybody else. I measure my days by to-do lists. I hear a mental voice say "move!" when I curl up in a lounge chair for too long. I worry about "wasted" time.

But this isn't a healthy way to live. Finishing a to-do list is important, but getting enough sleep each night is more important. There was a time in my youth when I limped by on very little sleep. Now I understand that's just a goofy way to live. Your health is like a checking account. You can write big checks against it for only so long before it gets overdrawn.

Your body needs sleep to recover and replenish itself. Your mind also needs rest from constant activity and confusion. Some people meditate. Some read. Some garden. Some do yoga. Whatever clears your mind and refreshes you will work.

Sometimes to go faster, you need to slow down.

Just play. Have fun. Enjoy the game. (Michael Jordan)

I wanted a new project for the summer. As luck would have it, I found myself playing with a new camera, taking pictures of a fountain. A friend joked that I could be a modern Ponce de Leon searching for the legendary Fountain of Youth.

Boom! A perfect frivolous summer project was born. I would take bike lean pictures at fountains wherever we pedaled. 

This is going to be fun.