My neighbor lady Betty Thornton-Tucker is shown with me after our hike to Lyon’s Falls in the Mohican State Park recently. Betty’s property adjoins mine along our township road to the North.

A STROLL IN THE WOODS--

A few weeks ago I was rolling by Betty’s place on the bike when I noticed her laboring over burning a large brush pile in her back yard. I stopped to lend a hand and we’ve been getting-better-acquainted neighbors ever since.

Betty has lived in her place for about 40 years and has buried two husbands in the process. Together our ages add up to 140 years.

Except for our marital status we don’t have too much in common--but being alone. And, a zest for life.

Betty’s a cancer survivor. Twice. And, she is grateful to her strong faith for those gifts. She was born in the hills just north of Charleston, West, by-God, Virginia--a place called Poca.

She chuckles while she readily admits her hillbilly status.

Actually, her residual dialect prevents any denial of that fact. Charmingly.

So, on the way to the forest we stopped by for a peek at the North shore of Pleasant Hill Lake then rounded the lake’s headwaters for a visit to the Mohican Lodge—her first. Then, it was down the backroads which sneak up on the lake’s fairly spectacular dam. Her first visit there too.

From there you can see down the gorge we were soon to walk for awhile back upstream on the way to the Lyon’s falls.

Then, it was a relaxing—mostly back roads ride—to Bellville for a mid-afternoon lunch.

This certainly would not qualify as exciting in many datebooks.

But, some geriatric folks would view the successful completion of an event like this as cause for jubilation.