Adventure in Appalachia

Ad-VEN-ture (noun): An undertaking of uncertain outcome.

As my bike grumbled and began to lose power, that dictionary definition came to mind. Highway 9006 had begun to wind and climb as the landscape grew deeper and steeper, and the rock cuts were black as coal. I was arriving in beautiful Eastern Kentucky, a region so mountainous and remote that it had been among the last places in the U.S. to receive electricity. The sharp incline I was on revealed a developing mechanical issue with my 650 Suzuki V-Strom: at 5,000 rpm, the engine would bump up against no power, almost as if a governor were installed. With a twist of the throttle, the engine would just grumble and back off. I was beginning to slow traffic, and I recalled a wry observation once made by Neil Peart, the late Rush lyricist and drummer: adventures suck while you’re having them. The silver lining was that I was about to meet some of the most genuine and generous people I have ever known.

After an arduous hour, I limped into the small town of Hazard, where a local recognized the futility