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The Answer


Ok, you know the answer. But did you know that Miata is also always…

  • the most effective twerk avoidance vehicle (TAV).
  • Bored Elon Musk’s ride of choice.
  • what you should have for lunch.

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Apex Hunter


You had that apex in your sights like Anthony Weiner on an inappropriate tweet but a last second dive-bomb cut you short. No matter though, ‘cuz this is prime hunting season. You’ve got plenty of turns left and a hunting license.

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10 Years Ago – September 2003

Master’s At The Gap 2

Date: Friday-Sunday, September 12-15, 2003
Place: Robbinsville, NC
Members Attending: Barbara & John Battles, Brian & Donna Bogardus, Karen & Kurt Breitinger and Carol & John Haff.

Car #1, the Bogardi, left the GA Welcome Center alone, but that was expected. They met car #2, the Haffs, at the Publix Shopping Center on Fury’s Ferry Road as expected. Car #3, the Breitingers, weren’t there, but that was not unexpected as they said they might be a little late. Cars 1 and 2 stopped at Hardees in McCormick, until Car #3, Kurt and Karen, arrived. Next stop was Walhalla where John requested refueling, as gas is a bit cheaper there than in the mountains proper.

We lunched in our usual Sportsman Cafe in Highlands where the sandwiches are fat, but the seating is thin. Outside of Cashiers, John took us on a nice little back road called Wayah Bald Road up to US74/19, instead of the normal SC28. Cool road with a lot of twisty bits, tree lined stretches and almost no traffic. We pulled into the Microtel around 5 PM. About an hour later, car # 4, with John & Barbara Battles inside arrived. Shortly after, the 8 of us dined at the new Mexican place in Robbinsville where the food was ample and the communications insufficient. By the end of the meal it was almost dark and no one wanted to attack the dragon, but we did want to go chase the sunset. Off our 4 cars went to the Cherohala Skyway. When we stopped at the third overlook the Battles never materialized. Turns out they were low on gas and turned around. The sunset never really materialized either, but no regrets as it was a beautiful evening to be out.

Saturday morning arrived early because we wanted to beat the weekend traffic to the gap and chase the sunrise. We left the hotel a little after 7 and all the motorcyclists were still in their tents at the Crossroads of Time when we flew past at 7:25. Didn’t really keep track, but we figure we made 7 of the 11 miles northbound into Tennessee unimpeded before we had to slow down for a couple of pickup trucks.

While we were parked in the gravel lot at the end of the run, a truck loaded with house trusses went by headed towards North Carolina. We knew he would take a while, so we waited about 15 minutes before starting our trip back. We sailed up the hill and took another break at the dam overlook for a photo op. While we were there, a Chevy Suburban went by so we waited another 20 minutes before continuing. When we did leave, we made it all the way back to the NC state line before we caught the Suburban or about 10 miles at speed. The Crossroads of Time was open when we got back and some of the cyclists were stirring. While we were inside looking at the T-shirts and stickers and such, John noticed out the window a semi hauling a bulldozer with a wide load escort car go by heading into the gap. We all breathed a sigh of relief because we would have hated to come up on that truck from either direction in the gap.

From there we headed to the corn maze in Andrews. I have to admit it was more fun than I had thought. It was a real study in human nature too. The men all navigated by maps and keeping track of where we were on the map. This worked well in the first, easier, part of the maze. In the second half we got to turned around and knew we were in trouble when we stumbled onto the same marker number for the second time. The guys threw up their hands and just followed Karen. She never looked at the map. Using “women’s intuition” plus some sort of internal Global Positioning System, she led us right out.

Our group was scheduled to meet the Battles at a restaurant in Telico Plains at 1:00 PM and it was already noon. Because there aren’t many ways to get there from Andrews, we thought for sure it would take too long and we would miss them. On the 4-lane it was no problem, but when we got to the 2-lane back roads we were held up a couple of times by slow vehicles. Still we made pretty good time and arrived at Cardin’s about 1:15. As we pulled into the lot, John and Barbara came in right behind us from the other direction, perfect. The setting is magnificent and the food is good, but service is lacking and what there is, is slow. Donna ordered soup and it was served with a teaspoon. After a request to find a bigger spoon was made, our waitress came back and said she couldn’t find any. John Haff’s and my sweet potato fries were cold. They did heat them up and then took them off the check, but too late. Next year we’ll have to find an alternative lunch location.

After lunch we all drove together back to Robbinsville via the Cherohala Skyway, with a 10 mile side trip to ogle the Bald River Falls. Next on the agenda was a pottery shop that Karen had requested we visit. We were too far away and too close to their 5:00 PM closing to make it, so we visited a different pottery place in Robbinsville. Probably not as nice, but it was the best we could come up with.

By now it was after 5:00 PM and after covering more than 200 mountain miles since 7:00 AM, some of us were toast. But not Kurt and John, so they headed off to drive the dragon one more time. Three quarters of the group had dinner at another new place in Robbinsville, the Sweet Magnolia Diner, while Brian & Donna begged off, claiming not hungry because of too big a lunch.

Sunday morning the Bogardi went south and east to SC, the Haffs & Breitingers went south and west to GA and the Battles went way east to drive some of the Blueridge Parkway before heading home.

Tubing Thursday


Racing Asshattery From Across The Pond

Sometimes even trying to keep a safe distance from a couple of race cars isn’t safe…

St. Enzo


Your horses prance. Your blood runs rosso. You turn to Maranello to pray several times a day. Your siren’s song is the screaming of a high-revving v8 beneath red crackle-finished intakes. You introduce yourself as La Me. Your kids are named Fernando and Felipe. You are a Fanboi.

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