Here's a small picture sample of the first three days of our trip.
Most mountain bikers don't wear mullet helmets, but I'm fond of mine.
It was a nice climb to the top here, but the real challenge was yet to come...
We actually rode this!
And down this.
Home sweet home.
Biggy's camping fashion.
This kind of scenery is everywhere.
A few snippets of conversation as we got accustomed to being alone together:
(Arriving at the campground.)
TR: Look at sweet little Airstream over there! I'd love to have that.
Biggy: Why can't you be just be happy with the pop-up?
TR: I am happy with the pop-up. I'm happy with you, too, but that doesn't mean I don't fantasize about Clive Owen every once in a while.
(Leaving one chilly night to walk a few campsites over, where there was live music.)
Biggy: Are you really gonna wear that blanket?
TR: Are you really gonna wear socks with those?
(Driving up a remote forest service road deep, deep into the woods.)
Biggy: This would be a great place to hide a body.
Biggy: Wouldn't you like to have a cabin back in here?
TR: Who am I--Nell?
(At the Pisgah trout hatchery, where we had to park to do one of the trails.)
Biggy: What IS that smell?
TR: You mean like fish?