I live in a very rural area of Upstate South Carolina. I have 22 acres and keep a few horses.
Mostly I ride my bike down here where there are few cars and almost no cell phones. I've lived here
about a year.
My neighbors are mostly ranchers and most of them are old-timers. They have larger spreads -- and I
mean that in a couple of ways.
During the winter, they don't do much but sit around at the tire store and talk about President Bush
or about how cold it is or ... well, this is kinda funny ... all the old men seem to have a crush on
Katie Couric. And they always update each other on their various ailments. Most of them suffer in
one way or another from years of smoking and/or eating Southern fried foods.
Anyway, I was in there the other day and was introduced to a new batch of the old guys.
(Incidentally, everyone here has been VERY nice to me even though I'm an outsider.) One of 'em said,
"aren't you the guy who rides that bicycle everywhere?" Then they all started chiming in, " I saw
him way up on ol' 72 yesterday" ... "I saw him down by the dam" ... etc. So I got to telling them
how much I ride and about all my bikes, etc. I also told them how I was a life-long smoker and
drinker until I discovered cycling and turned my life around.
Anyway, to get to the point. I'm driving home from an errand yesterday and I come upon my neighbor
-- a guy about 60 years old and going on 75 -- and he's out on this rusty old Huffy that he's
retrieved from his barn and spruced up. I waved and grinned from ear-to-ear. He did the same.
Bob C.