Last Run in May

Today was the last day in May, a good opportunity to complete one of my favorite training runs (as the few readers of this blog must know by now):  Big Bearpen.  Tomorrow is June 1, a new month, and new adventures await.  But today I stayed with the familiar:  that long, shady, winding morning road up this mountain that I try to climb at least once a week.

It was still cool under the shade of these towering trees, and the recent rains had settled the dust which can be a problem during the summer.  There was little traffic; a woman I did not recognize, wearing earphones and blissfully listening to music, was striding down the mountain just below the last switch-back, possibly a left-over visitor from Memorial Day.  I reached the first vista, just opposite Fred's driveway marked by the sign of a descending dove, with the little gazebo looking down on the Recreation Park.

And then the other vistas, scattered around the summit.  First, the view of Satulah to the southwest, what I consider the true "summit" where the road levels off and begins that big counter-clockwise circle, and where I always stop to stretch and take in the view.

And then on around to the Kalanta view, where in clear weather one can see the big lakes of South Carolina shining in the distance.  It's all downhill from here!  (But I wish I knew what "Kalanta" means.  Can it really refer to a Greek folk song as Wikipedia suggests?)

And finally that spectacular view of Whiteside Mountain to the East, with Highlands Falls just to the left.  On a quiet day (following rainy periods) you can hear it flowing all the way up here.

It was a good climb and was rewarding to come up here again, to another summit, pulling it in one long, slow, steady climb without stop. 

On the way back down I saw a trash-can overturned (I had not noticed it on the way up), trash scattered everywhere, and I thought a bear might be in the neighborhood.  So when I reached Chestnut Street, I decided to forego a climb up Sunset, or around Gibson Street, and stick to the safe, populated areas around Harris Lake.  It really is unnerving to see a bear - these large, wild, unpredictable creatures - up close as I have more than once.  I was not in the mood for that today.

As I was nearing Satulah Ridge Road, a workman on a house under construction was walking out to his truck parked on the road, and he said, "Hey, buddy!  A young man and two women just came by and told me there was a bear up ahead, like two mailboxes up, just a couple of minutes ago!  Just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't be scared!"  I thanked him, and slowed to a walk, and then shouted out, "Awright, bear, out of the way!  Here I come!" and began coughing loudly, and started running again.  No sign of any bear.  But they are out, and they are hungry.

Of course, it stands to reason that a bear will not stay long on Big Bearpen after overturning an unsatisfying trash-can.  Nor will he be lurking on Lower Lake Road or Gibson Street, where there are no houses.  He will be here, in Town, where the food is.  He will be having lunch in Town today.