Born To Be Mild

Waning Gibbous Moon

When the Harley Davidson guy passed me going east somewhere near Pruntytown, I had a feeling I would see him again. Sure enough a few minutes later I saw him pull up on the shoulder across the highway and wave.

He wasn’t a scary biker dude, just a good ole boy wondering what I was up to. He walked over and got the whole RAA scoop, then handed me a ten dollar bill and wished me luck.

Amazing. Also amazing was the Man Cave Barber Shop on the outskirts of Grafton where I got a fresh buzz about an hour earlier. Price? Ten bucks. Er, make that trail angel free as it turned out!

Grafton, by the way, invented Mother’s Day. Says so on the sign and I ain’t a gonna argue.


Grafton is kind of spread out, but I think I was technically still there when I came upon The Gourmet Express. My hiker hunger is beginning to express itself. I had just eaten breakfast two hours before, but in I went to order a chicken sandwich, fries, and sweet tea. Surprisingly that was served with a bunch of red grapes which pleased me to no end. The proprietress was way on the ball. Ain’t she cute?


I stayed on Hwy 50, the George Washington Highway, all day today, eighteen miles between Grafton and Bridgeport. Lots of hills, but nothing extreme.


I did see an “Old Catholic” Cemetery. I stopped for a minute, then hurried past when I realized they might be looking for this old Catholic, too. Catch me if you can, Padre Time.


And lastly, for all you mildlife fans, I bring you this, just in case you thought West Virginia had none of these.


Zero day tomorrow. Thunderstorms coming and I shall sleep all day.

Peace, Love, and the Mild Life,

3 thoughts on “Born To Be Mild

  1. Hi Jim, did you call yourself a old Catholic? I just learned something new, I didn’t know you were old or even Catholic. Happy Holy Thursday and good luck on Good Friday. Ria says hi.


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