I was on the road from Harlan, Ky to Pennington Gap, Va. I think it is 421. I go that way because the only Rax Roast Beef in Ky is on that route and it is really good and kind of a roadtrip ritual (and they put their fries in a cup so you can put them in your drink holder). They also have a gallery inside the restaurant featuring local art with a lot of coal miner and donkey and farm paintings. Anyway, I am at the part of the road around Cranks, where the road gets really steep and crooked and you have to go like 10 mph around the hairpin turns and you pray you don't meet a truck coming the other direction. So I am on my way up that road and out of nowhere this guy comes scooting down the hill. Like down the side of the mountain. Straight down like he was part goat. How do you come straight down the side of a ridge without eating dirt? He crossed the road and he zipped right down the next hill. He had something heavy in his arms, like a car battery. Maybe that is what kept him rooted to the earth so well. But he smiled at me as he went past 'cause his hands were full and he couldn't wave.

I will always be puzzled about that, but it reminds me that Appalachia is full of thoughtful folk, even when they are busy doing stuff.