Trailside Food Find

So today, while I was tripping gaily down Richards Hollow Trail (on two feet this time, not two wheels), I came across three off-road motorcyclists resting by the side of the stream.  I teased them for “cheating” before admitting that I, too, have been known to employ a motorized two wheeled vehicle to gain elevation at times.  I continued on my way, until one of them said something that stopped me dead in my tracks.  “Want some homemade cheese?”  My heart stopped.  “Whose home?” I asked back, in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner, while my heart stopped stopping and started pitter-pattering with anticipatory delight.  “Rockhill Creamery!,” came the reply, and a little flicker of recognition lit up my brain. “You’re the market cheese guy!”

Pete the cheese guy and his old trials bike.

Yes, he was indeed the market cheese guy, whose stand I happily patronize several times each summer.  Not only did he send me home with a generous and delicious hunk of “No Name Tomme,” he also delivered a great tip for the Ducati “Hell and Back Again” trip I have planned for next week.
I am here to tell you, dear readers, that the business of skipping* past waterfalls and through great meadows of waist high bluebells is only made better with a mouthful of tasty alpine style cheese.

*In my mind, I was skipping.  The waterfall and bluebells (along with many other types of flowers, a bubbling stream, picturesque rocky outcrops, and a beaver dam) were for real.