After leaving LC's favorite fishing cove I rode up and down the rolling hills of the paved road in front of me, enjoying the effort and enjoying the views of Woods Reservoir that appeared on a regular and satisfying basis.
I remember the year I began adventure racing, happily telling my triathlon training partner at one point that I was now running the same distance that only the year before I had been biking.
Now I am biking the same distance that I used to be running.
As they are apt to do far too frequently, the realizations of how much has changed for me both physically and professionally over the past couple of years again violently and unexpectedly infiltrated my brain.
I quickly fought battle with the negative speak, knowing that it was both pointless and destructive.
I was on my bike at that moment. Happily alone. On a beautiful day and in a beautiful place.
I continued along rolling hills determined that my overactive brain would not throw a dark cloud over all that was good on this day.
At the top of one hill, across from the gate leading to military personnel family quarters is one of many entrances to the mountain bike trails.
This particular entrance was a wide open, gravel, sometimes even and sometimes rutted out, jeep trail.
I headed down the trail uncertain of where I wanted to go, alternately debating the merits of picking up single track vs staying on the multitude of jeep trail and horse trail and double track arteries that tie together the complex single track system.
In the end I did neither.
While still wandering I came to an intersection.
As I approached this large water hole - left over remnants from more days than not of rain over the past few weeks - I slowed down to listen to the sound of the bullfrogs.
They were loud and singing vigorously and I smiled because I had also heard the same singing while trail running the other day.
I liked the sound. I liked them being here.
As I got to the water though the world instantly became silent.
They must have sensed that I was a danger to them.
Stupidly, and like a little kid, I unclipped from my bike, stood it up against a tree, and walked over to the water.
There was only water.
No frogs or bugs or other little critters chirping and singing.
Just water and quiet.................
Scenes from the jeep trail.................
As I continued riding I bypassed one more jeep trail on my left, knowing that it was a long road that unexpectedly climbed its way onto grassy single track that eventually dead-ended deep into long grass.
Continuing on the same wide open trail that I had started on I soon found a gravel road veering to the right.
I knew where it led and took it, eventually popping out onto paved road again close to the ramp where LC and I put in the fishing boat.............
Since I have already taken many pictures at the boat ramp before (and will take many more in the future) I bypassed the ramp and pulled off the road once again when I saw this open place.
I really did have an unnamed need to be close to water on this day, and stood straddling my bike for a few moments while I snapped this picture.
Continuing on.................
As I approached a dead-end, I had planned on turning off the paved road and stopping at a bridge for a while, before turning right onto one more paved road and slowly beginning to work my way back towards UTSI.
When I first saw him he was a couple of hundred yards away from me, across the road, across a grassy field and standing on a walkway.
I thought at first that he was a dog and was only partially interested in his unexpected appearance.
As I continued slowly riding and slowly closing the gap between us though I paid him more attention.
And then finally, at the STOP sign, I stopped riding.
He was motionless and looking intently at me, still at least 100 yards away from me.
I climbed off my bike and unceremoniously dumped my bike into the grass, never taking my eyes off this animal that I had come to realize was a fox.
I zoomed my camera in as far as it would zoom in and began taking pictures.................
Leaving my bike in the grass I crossed the road, slowly so that I would not scare my new friend away.
I intrinsically knew that if I made any sudden moves he would be gone.
On the opposite side of the road I took a few steps onto the grass, stood in the shade of a very large tree, and again snapped a picture.
Entirely focused on the fox standing at the edge of the walkway I did not even see the two others in this picture until I downloaded these pictures.
I did not see the other two until they came running down the hill to meet up with the first, and when they did I smiled and was delighted.
They were perfectly wonderful.
And I think that the "he" was actually a "she"...................
I stood looking at this trio for a long time, certain that they would run away at any moment.
But they did not.
Rather, they seemed content to simply stand, sit, scratch, look over in my direction and remain on the walkway.
I continued to snap pictures and watch them, disappointed that I could not zoom my camera in any more but afraid to move closer to them and spook them.
After a long time I slowly walked back to my bike.
They were still on the sidewalk, and after I remounted I biked beyond the Dead End sign curious to see if there was a way to get closer to the side walk.
It was my only hope to get closer pictures.
There was!
But I got to it just in time to watch the last fox look at me and then turn and quickly run into the woods.
I was disappointed to realize that I had missed closer shots, but I had unexpectedly come across them on this day and that was a very good thing...............
Still smiling at my wonderful and completely unexpected encounter I headed back towards the lake.
I was having more fun than I could possibly express and my heart was light...................
I stood on the bridge (a place which is rapidly becoming a favorite of mine) and again, as I had done so many times on this day, looked out over the water.
A fisherman with hood pulled up tightly to protect from the wind on the water.
More leafless trees and some Christmas trees.
Endless blue water and blue sky.
The Cumberland Plateau.
I thought about the three foxes that I had photographed, and the four deer that I had seen near the base gate that quickly ran across a field and were gone into the woods before I could even think about digging my camera out from my jacket pocket.
Looking down into the water close to the bridge I wondered why there were three Christmas trees standing in the water and what was the deal with the plastic bottles?................
After showing the pictures to LC later, he believes that they were deliberately placed in the lake to draw in the fish.
The plastic bottles used to mark their location.
I guess that makes sense.
But how do they keep the trees standing upright?..............
Leaning my bike against a tree I stood on the bridge and looked over at the small point on the opposite side of the cove.
The water was glistening.
It was sparkling and every color, in this predominantly colorless time of year in Tennessee, was vivid and rich................
The gate to nowhere...............
The University of Tennessee Institute.
The campus is beautiful.
Surrounded by trees and grass and water and endless Tennessee sky.
The main educational building is a smoked glass filled, horseshoe shaped building.
As I approached the campus again after a long morning of quiet adventure I took the driveway to the left, wanting to once more head down to the water before heading back to my truck...............
Close to the water on the left side of the building are many wonderful small features that make the grounds a relaxing and picturesque place...............
I made one last stop on the way home.
All of the pull offs on the drive home lead to old flat abandoned roads that are used extensively by people such as hunters and people such as this bike rider and runner................
Nature is always lovely, invincible, glad, whatever is done and suffered by her creatures. All scars she heals, whether in rocks or water or sky or hearts...........John Muir
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