After riding 33 miles yesterday, today was a running day. I am so sick of all the runs right around our nabe and wanted to branch out. Then I remembered seeing some trails up in the Oaks when mom and Graham and I had gone biking months ago, so I thought I'd head over there. But I realized that it was probably 2 miles from my house to the trail head (so 4 miles round trip). Still, I hate getting in my car to go exercise. I also didn't really want to futz with tracking down a bike lock.
I realized the smart thing to do would be to ride over to Niklaus and Lucy's, leave my bike there, and go from there. So I texted the Swiss guy and told him what I was doing. Knowing someone for half a century gives one some prerogatives, no need to ask, I just told him.
So I rode over, found an empty driveway, and went for a run. On the way back I was walking along Long Leaf towards their place when this guy in a silver Honda pulls up. "David?" he said. "Nah, Clark Troy." I said. It was Dickie Turner. We talked for a while, caught up pretty good. By then I was standing in the shade of someone's yard, which the owner, a woman, was mowing. Dickie says to me: "That's Heidi Mallet over there." Which was hilarious.
There is a whole other story of small town running into people in which the punchline was Heidi Mallet's son (who goes out with Luz Alva's daughter). But I don't have time to type all that out because I need to go grill some chicken.
But it's things like this that make me love being at home in Chapel Hill.
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