I pulled out of my garage today with the Police singing about a little black spot on the sun and I wasn't quite sure where I was going to land. But the music turned me towards my teenage years and the mountains around Sparta, NC. I used to fly down these gravel roads on a motorbike as a young teen and would challenge myself to see how lost I could get. These roads provide time travel now just as they did then. Highway 21 is being widened and my favorite old straightaway is now parenthesized by a stop light and convenience store supplanting my memories of cruising the treelined road on an early Sunday morning in summer beating haste back to Winston Salem or Charleston in the later days. But these gravel roads.... they don't change and I won't tell you how to get there. When the time comes that they may be paved and lit, I will hopefully be beyond my driving days, sitting on a porch in remembrance of this view.