Another Asa picture

East bound and down
Or: Scoop wif a hair hat

The other day, I was driving to the local Buncombe County Transfer Station. I was headed there to throw away some windows that had been sitting in our "garage" for the last four months.

After more than 125 days, I had finally come to the realization that the guys who said they were going to pick up the windows weren't coming.

They were never coming.

They installed our new metal roof and our relationship was over. That was it.

Maybe I left myself open to be a little misled about the commitment to the windows. The washing machine. The holidays.

Whatever. It's fine.

It's fine, okay?

Cranking a hot right turn down a hill in our little car/go cart on the way to the transfer station, I suddenly found myself thinking about Burt Reynolds in 1977's best movie, Smokey and the Bandit.

Mostly because of the picture Asa just gave me.

See? It's not all bad. I still have my little buddy Asa on my side!

"Dis is you wif a hair hat, Scoop," Asa said.

I couldn't help but notice that I looked like a certain movie star and his TA. You see, Asa knows who he's dealing with.

Senor Awesome Neighbor, that's who.

My running route,
two miles from downtown

As I drove through the hills, I followed my running route. I love my running route. It's on a greenway - one of Asheville's many multi-use paths used for recreation that typically occupy stream and river corridors. This particular greenway follows a stream that feeds into the French Broad River.

Regular readers will recognize the French Broad as the world's third-oldest river.

That's right, the third-oldest river in the world! It's true!

Like the Bandit with Jackie Gleason on his tail, I shot underneath three-story tall highway underpasses, forgetting that I had a stack of breakable junk sticking out of the back of the car.

VROOM! VROOM! VROOM!

Wow. I hate driving.

Like really, really hate it. But every once in a while, I'm smart enough to realize the limitations of a backpack and my bike.

Suddenly remembering my precious cargo, I reached behind me to make sure I hadn't spilled it all over the road. I've done that too many times in the past.

But we won't get into those road closures right now, because...

East bound and down, 18 wheels a rollin'!  

I'm gonna do what they say can't be done!

Okay, maybe not. 

Basically, I drove some old-ass windows to a dump. But in my head, I was the Bandit. 

Or maybe a little bit like the Sally Fields character. You know, breaking free from a toxic relationship. ...And maybe driving through a little league game or two. 

Whatever.

Other runners on my route

Anyone wanna come over and pick up a washing machine?

If you do, you'll have a standing invitation to Thanksgiving dinners!