Clarksville, Tn —  I just returned from another visit to the Smoky Mountains, as I wrap up my travel season.  The beauty of this time of the year, while chasing the colors of the fall, is one of my favorite journeys.

This is how I will remember this time.   


                                  I awoke to the smell of the fresh mountain air.

                                   To finish my ride, to where, I didn’t care.

                                   The clouds were what greeted me, no sunlight in the air

                                   This was a misty mountain morning.


                                    The Cherohala Skyway, my path down the mountain

                                    Leaning through corners, as the elevations were mounting

                                    What lie ahead, only God  would know

                                    I had no fear, to follow him I would go

                                    This misty mountain morning.


                                     Reaching for the sky, this mountain I would climb

                                     Gliding through the clouds, mist covering my eyes

                                     As close to heaven as this biker would find

                                      And a prayer to release these earthly ties

                                     Another misty mountain morning.


                                       The beautiful colors that describe this season 

                                       The purpose of my journey, would be my reason.

                                       This road I absorbed deep into my being

                                       My adrenaline pumping, at what I was seeing

                                       This misty mountain morning.


                                         A biker knows their journey touches their soul

                                         Living on the edge, in places few people know

                                         This moment in time, that I would not trade

                                         With brothers I go, on this very day

                                         Another misty mountain morning