A Pretty Day in the Mountains, but More Disappointment

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Well, I went on another ride a couple of days ago.  The weather was again beautiful, and I was looking forward to a few hours out in nature. 

I didn't have as good a time as I would have liked a few days ago on a ride due to bureaucrats deciding for us what we can and cannot do.  I'd recovered a little from that and decided to make another go on the bike. 

Today, I start out from home, and wander around a bit on the roads north of my house.  It isn't far to the foothills of the Blue Ridge Escarpment, so I go that way, north from Pickens South Carolina.  I meander in that direction, finally coming out at the junction of US-178 and SC-11.  I head further north on US-178, hoping to have a look from the lofty 3,554-foot elevation of the highest point in South Carolina, Sassafras Mountain.  Sassafras is a place I have often visited on the motorcycle.  

US-178 from SC-11 to Rocky Bottom is in pretty good shape, and there are some nice repeating s-curves near Rocky Bottom.  I enjoy taking the curves at a snappy pace for me.  Many motorcyclists use this section of road heavily, especially on warm weekends.  There is almost no traffic today because all of the schools and most businesses are closed. 

Here is the general route from Pickens to the road leading to Sassafras Mountain:

Just past the sign for the Rocky Bottom Retreat and Conference Center of the Blind, I turn right onto F. Van Clayton Highway, and see a new road sign.

I don't pay it much attention, and continue motoring toward my goal today. 

This road is also not too bad, a little narrower than US-178, and there is only one hairpin curve, surprisingly on the way to the top of the mountain.  (There isn't a warning sign for that hairpin, so be on the lookout.) 

As I near the road to the top, just where Glady Fork Road turns off to the left, I see it: 

A brand new, heavy-duty gate across the road, complete with stop signs and flashing solar-powered warning beacons.  I have not given it a thought today that they would close a mountain.  Now it dawns on me that the sign down near Rocky Bottom said the following: 

GATE AHEAD

ROAD CLOSED

PAST 

GLADY FORK RD

I suppose that new and substantial gate was paid for by taxpayers -- TO KEEP OUT TAXPAYERS!!!

I'm steamed, thinking about this stupidity, and the waste of my money to keep me out. 

I dismount, and take a closer look. 

Even more closely:

Yep.  Closed until further notice.  That could be years, maybe forever. 

I'm not only steamed, I'm fried, now.  I know, I know, they are just trying to keep us healthy.  Sure.  Keeping us out of the fresh mountain air will keep us healthy. I'll be healthier on this side of the gate than on the other. 

I also note that the new gate is in a fairly steep section of the road.  Whoever designed the gate forgot about this slope so the bottom of the right stop sign drags on the pavement when they open the gate -- whenever that is.  The pavement has bent the bottom of the sign away from the face of the gate. Clever. 

I look back toward my bike and spot something interesting.  Do you see it in this photograph? 

That is Glady Fork Road going off to the right in the picture.  Two of the three cars are parked on the wrong side of the road, probably indicating that they came here from the same way I did on F.Van Clayton Highway to the left in the picture. 

I have never seen anyone park there before.  I don't believe there is anything else around here that would require parking in that location. 

You know what I'll bet? 

I think that these folks got to the same point as I have, and decided to see the top of the mountain anyway.  ...from the nearly new overlook structure there.  Good for them. 

Here is a crowd on the observation platform September 2019. 

Here is a view from the top on the same day. 

Well worth the time to see the view, I'd say. 

Don't tell anybody about the cars parking near the gate, 'cause then the authorities might come by here and ticket or tow the taxpayers (and visitors) who simply want to see what is theirs. 

By the way, I am also getting a little fidgety, because I need to find a place to relieve myself.  Old men need that a lot, it seems.  Thinking about the nearly new restroom at the top of the mountain makes this even worse.  Torturing, I'd say. 

I nevertheless, mount my steed and head back the way I came. 

When I get to Pickens, I look for a good place; one where I don't have to take off my helmet or worry about the bike while I am using the facilities in some store.  ...and come to think of it, there aren't many stores open anyway. 

I think of just the place.  There is a city park with a playground, a trail, and a restroom just off US-178.  I go that way and find this: 

Closed.  I go on a little further to the Pickens Recreation Center, which is a gymnasium with ball fields and a very nice BMX track behind it. 

Closed too, though there is a small group of employees gathered on a picnic bench outside in the rear of the building.  They look to be much closer than the regulation six feet apart. Naughty, naughty! 

Now what will I do?  I am getting desperate. 

I wander around the city streets and spot this: 

See that house on the right?  It is being refurbished. 

Know what the workers need?  They need a place to go potty!  ...and they have just such a place. 

And I need one. Now. 

I quickly turn around, and park on the opposite side of the street from my immediate goal.  There, a guy is cutting his lawn on a tractor.  I have my helmet on, and my earplugs in.  I want to tell him why I am going to park on his sidewalk, but the noise of his tractor prevents him from hearing my muffled voice from within my helmet, even when I get closer to him.  [Not too close, mind you.] 

I suppose he might be a little wary of me, too.  I can't imagine why.  I'm sure motorcyclists in leathers stop here frequently. 

Finally, I devise a solution.  I give the universal sign of needing to go -- pointing at the nether regions -- then at the potty across the street. 

The shadow of my arm pointing at my immediate goal. 

He gets the message, acknowledges that he understands, and I sprint across the street. 

Whew.

I then mount up and head for home, tooting my horn in thanks to the man on the tractor. 

I really did have a nice ride today, but trying to find a suitable place when nature calls has, again, not been easy. ...and I really want to get our freedoms back, so I can go where I wish, see what is mine to see, shop where I want, and not feel as though I might be breaking rules all the time. 

I hope this nonsense ends soon, so we can again live in freedom. Write to your governor to tell him that. 

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