The following is a piece of my catalog of travels from the great state of Virginia to the great state of California, up the coast to Washington (also great), and then back east, back home. Nothing in this account has been embellished and/or fabricated. It all really and truly happened. For real. Seriously. I would not lie to you.

Low Moor, Virginia.
Just crossed the border. One of the last signs in Virginia was for a town called Low Moor. Say it out loud. Low Moor. How fun is that? If anyone out there reading this is from Low Moor, please speak up. I must know if your town is as cool as its name.

Find the River
We decided to get off of Highway 64 and take a scenic route through a few towns. We thought it would be faster. It looked faster on the map, anyway. Of course, the map didn't show the 500,000 sharp turns in alternating directions immediately following each other up a scary mountain!

At the top, we stopped at Hawk's Nest State Park. Although there were no birds of prey soaring in the sky, we did enjoy a nice view of the Kanawha river. Some dude was there telling his kids that the river was 23 million years old. Is that even possible? I didn't question him because that would have been rude, but Dan and I shared a doubtful glance. Oh, you know what else they didn't have 23 million years ago? Sporks. Ahh evolution.

"Come on in and see The Mystery Hole!"
What?!? That's what was painted on the side of ... I don't even know how to explain it. It was like a very large trailer but it was also like an old, rundown shack with peeled paint. It was on the side of yet another curve in the road and I almost pulled in to the driveway. But Dan was afraid that if we went to see the mystery hole, we'd never come out.

"You probably pay $4 to stand in front of a bottomless pit while some dude stands behind you and pushes you in."

"It's a mystery, though! We have to go back!"

"No way, man! It's probably just a stupid hole in the ground. They probably filled it in last year and that's why it's a mystery--because they won't tell you what they used to fill it in."

"But if we don't go back, we won't be able to tell everyone that we saw The Mystery Hole!"

"Great! I can live with that!"

Sigh.

Next stop... Kentucky.

The following story was received as part of Writing's Take Five Contest. Although it did not win, we enjoyed it very much and wanted to share it with you. Check back throughout the rest of April and May to read more excellent poems and stories from Take Five.

Bicycle Boy
- Short story by Adela Wu, Grade 9

It was utterly dismal, not attractive at all, but then again, it was his home. The rows of rectangular boxes for apartments sickened the mind; each looked exactly like those on either side. Occasionally, the old women below them would even enter the wrong building. (Tony had a few laughs at their expense.) And the dust. It coated the streets, leeched onto the walls, hovered in every inch of the summer air. 

What a coincidence that it was down in the filthy streets that Tony found his treasure.

The pile of rusted metal and twisted scrap lay next to an overflowing dumpster. However, Tony recognized the slim form of handlebars, pedals and the worn but unmistakable outline of two bicycle wheels.

“I’m going to fix a bike,” he announced proudly to his mother that night. The tired woman briefly looked up from the warm chicken noodle soup simmering on the stove.

“Tony, how many times have I told you not to go wandering around the streets?” she sighed exasperatedly. “It’s dangerous—”

“Stop treating me like a baby!” Tony shouted against his better judgment for he fully knew about his mother’s raging temper. To his astonishment she put down her soup ladle and sat next to him.

“All right, you win,” She grinned, opening the sewing basket. Quickly, her voice turned serious as she efficiently bit the string and grabbed Tony’s red jacket, “But with growing up, you’re going to get more responsibilities.” She waved a silver key before his eyes. “This is our house-key.” Tony blinked. “People without a home are lost people…if this key is gone, our home is gone. Then we are lost!” His mother rambled on as the sharp needle punctured the jacket and her dexterous fingers expertly folded the lining to create a pocket. She wound thread around the key and administered a final stern warning, “If you lose this key, you might as well throw our family and home away. Be careful, Tony…I trust you.” Tony smiled into his mother’s eyes as she embraced him.

The following is a piece of my catalog of travels from the great state of Virginia to the great state of California, up the coast to Washington (also great), and then back east, back home. Nothing in this account has been embellished and/or fabricated. It all really and truly happened. For real. Seriously. I would not lie to you.

Begin
I'm already behind. The problem is that there were six whole states I had to go through just to get to D.C. But that was accomplished by train yesterday. That doesn’t really count as part of the road trip. So I suppose I can forgive myself and move on.

We're definitely on the road now though. We totally blew off D.C. We awoke this morning after a rip-roaring good night. Weekly Reader won a bunch of awards at The Association Of Educational Publishers Award Ceremony. That made us happy.  :)

But that was then, this is, um, now.

The reason (well, one of them anyway) that we didn't see the D.C. sights is because I saw them last year. And Dan's seen them before, too. Dan is my road trip buddy. He's in the Air Force and I've known him all my life. He keeps us safe. He's good people. I think he's sick of me already, though. Ha! Not really. Maybe.

Led Zeppelin is blasting. The windows are rolled down. And we're in Virginia. Yayyy Virginia! I hear Route 66 is the most famous road in America. We're on it now. I'll tell you something about Route 66. So far ... I'm not very impressed. Show me something, 66! Bring it!

Something's Fishy
Apparently, Virginia is "Kilgore Country". We just passed a barn that announced that fact on a very large banner. I wonder if they mean Kilgore Trout, Kurt Vonnegut's famous character/alter-ego. Probably not. It's probably the local High School's basketball team. Go Kilgore!

"Where should we go?"

"Oh, I dunno. Go to the hoop. Get in the paint!!"

"How about you just drive across the country?"

"That works, too."

Hey, Where'd Bry Go?
There are caverns all over Virginia. We keep passing signs for Shenandoah Caverns and Luray Caverns and even something called "Endless Caverns". Every time we see a sign for a cavern we discuss the possibility of going. By the time we decide that yes, we should go and see the caverns, it's too late and they're gone. It's just as well. I'm sure I would have got lost in the Endless Caverns, fallen down some awful pit and have to live with Gollum and the Ghoulies. Yeah. Keep driving.

Today is all about driving. We have to put many miles behind us now so we have more time to hang out in national parks and Badlands, more time to explore the California coast and mountain ranges. To wit, we must hurry. We're on limited time here.

Verona, Virginia
I just saw two households. They both seemed alike in dignity.

Next stop... West Virginia.