Maiden Ride Segment # 1 19/105 sm

Start	Anniston, AL	N 33:44:16.00 W 85:49:04.88	N-S miles 18.7
End	Smyrna, GA	N 34:00:32.31 W 85:15:24.79	Total miles 105

As you can see from these pictures the Mazes got the job done, riding the Chief Ladiga and Silver Comet trails a total of 105 miles. Unfortunately we were too pooped to remember to take a picture at the end but I know we would all nail a lie detector test if someone wanted to challenge our claim. Ruth came through by shuttling the car back to Smyrna and taking start photos like the one above. The weather was perfect and we pretty much stayed on schedule. I believe this is the longest hard surface trail in the country. At least it is the longest paved or asphalt rail trail I have ridden. I feel good that I was able to get my recumbent bike up all but two hills. The first knoll I could not pull off was just out of Cedartown, Georgia, after I had carbo overloaded with a big breakfast at the Holiday Inn. The stomach needed to churn food rather than fuel the leg muscles. One could easily ask why there were hills with 20% or more slope on this trail? Apparently the trail builders east of Cedartown could not buy the rail road right of way; therefore a circuitous route with hills and curves was the only way to get the job done. Chris and Geoff “manned up” and rode up all the hills, some of them three hundred feet of elevation change. If we Maze riders worked as hard as Daring Darron, my aspiring periodontist friend, then our little bodies shrunk by burning six thousand calories. We thought the Georgia part (Silver Comet Trail) was the prettier of the two trails, with tunnels and high bridges, coupled with peaceful country scenes. I only crashed my recumbent once. Good thing I wore football pants with hip, thigh and tailbone pads. The pain from my spill in the ditch was bothersome the next morning. I have fallen off the recumbent dozens of times so that is why I have listed this animal of a bicycle on Craig’s list. One interested individual asked if I wanted to trade the recumbent for a guitar, banjo, mandolin or amplifier. Given my inability to play a baritone, ukulele, and harmonica, or of all things, a set of bagpipes, why would I want to trade a bicycle for something I would just look at?

Bagpipes? Yes, my dad thought at least one of his eight sons should represent the Scotch Irish side of the family and learn to play the pipes. Guess what, being the last of the Mohicans, Glennie was handpicked to take chanter lessons from Mr. Harris and to play in the grade school band. The idea of a Maze playing in the band and not blocking and tackling on the football field was unheard of by all brothers that preceded me. Playing the baritone in the band and going to music contests was kind of cool, especially when I would get out of work on the farm to take a trip to places like Sioux City, Iowa, a place that seemed like another country to me due to the three hour bus ride needed to get to Morningside College. So I tooted away for a year until Mr. Robosh gently suggested I try another extracurricular activity. Actually I was getting bored by then, so after sixth grade I was out of the baritone business and pacifying my dad by pretending to practice the chanter at home. I was able to fake it up to the start of my senior year in high school, when my dad laid down the law and proclaimed I would not be able to play my final year of high school unless I played the bagpipes. When you are the age of a high school senior, you don’t embrace what your parents say so I said to myself that I was not going to play bagpipes. Since I had a good junior year and the Carroll Tigers were expected to have another good year, I figured Coach Macomber would talk some sense into my dad. But to talk to the coach and expose the whole thing, I had to participate in the preseason physical exams. The night of the exams I went down to the barn and turned on the lights to give the impression I was shooting baskets in the hay loft. However, I took the opportunity to run across the fields and then down Carroll street to the high school gymnasium. I was late, really late. The doctors had already packed up their equipment but they must have felt sorry for me and one of them looked me over and checked my blood pressure. After running a mile to get to the school and with tons of anxiety because I skipped out, my blood pressure was sky high. I don’t know what it read but the doctors had a conference and then ordered me to go lay on the wrestling mats in a dark corner of the stage. After laying there for what seemed to be forever, the coach came and pulled me out of the dark. Apparently my next reading was lower so I was cleared to play football my senior year. Unfortunately there was not a good time to tell my coach of my dilemma of not being able to play without bagpipe skills. The next morning on KCIM, the local news station, reported that the Carroll Tigers had their preseason football physicals the previous night. My dad said, “Well I guess you won’t be playing football this year.”  “Ok” I said. “I promise to play the bagpipes when the season is over.” And I did. I learned to play the Marines Hymn, my favorite, Blue Bells of Scotland and Wearing of the Green. But because I tore my medial meniscus against Sac City my junior year, I was even slower than I was the year before. It is too bad that arthroscopic surgery was not available back then although I am certain my dad would not have let the orthopedic surgeon touch me. My dad was certain; Doctor Joe had botched a broken leg years prior, causing an exceptionally talented five star collegiate prospect, to lose his leg. George Maze was not about to allow me to get the chunks of cartilage floating in my knee, removed by Dr. Joe. So, I headed into my senior year of football with a weak and painful knee. To protect it I wore a leather brace with a metal hinge. Talk about limitations in speed and agility! Even with the brace on the knee would pop out of joint and I would require help to pop it back in. It wasn’t until I was in the Air Force some ten years later; I got the knee surgery I needed to make life a bit more comfortable.

My knee has never bothered me riding a bike or swimming but I did aggravate it running. After two marathons and all the associated training miles, I gave up running and the pain associated to ride bicycles.