Found a place to lose myself

       It doesn't take a whole lot to make a person feel brave these days.  A couple weeks after Covid vaccines and a lift of the travel ban by the CDC will make anybody want to get away for a day or two.  Didn't get around any people though.  We're all just going to have to fight isolation now that it's become a habit.  I found a real place to lose yourself, no phone reception, not internet, no electricity (at the campsite) and damn few people.  About 50 miles SE of Lexington is such a place.  

       I decided to take a few days just to get away from home.  No other reason.  The Daniel Boone National Forest is only a 6 hour drive and provides a lot of isolated campgrounds. It was time for a little "spoke 'n hub" tour.   It was about 10 degrees warmer there and 

      I spent a few hours each day climbing what the locals call "hills."  They looked like mountains to me.  There were plenty of challenging grades to climb and the roads were excellent pavement and well maintained gravel.   I found a couple places to cast a line out.  The fish are safe here.

The forest was just coming alive with the spring.   With no electricity, phone or internet, I was forced to relax and enjoy the sound of wind and birds.   One little bunch of critters at a time were getting active and putting the springtime puzzle together.

One is more likely to find horseman than cars on the roads.

The climbs were rewarded with beautiful views.

      Easter I had lunch at the general store/lunch counter as the church rush came in.  I was standing outside by my bike when a well dressed man who looked a few years older than me asked where I was from.  We chatted a couple of minutes and I said this looked like a place where a guy could just be forgotten if he pleased.   "Oh, that happens."  He said,  "I'm ninety this month, been here my whole life...except for twelve years in Louisville.  It's a good place to ignore stuff."  I said, "I'm sixty nine, I hope I am as young as you when I'm ninety."  He smiled, nodded at the bike and said, "That'll do it."