There’s something extraordinary about traveling by motorcycle. Your senses are heightened as you become one with the environment. In a car, you’re sitting in a cage behind a screen called a windshield, and the world passes by in a cubicle. On a motorcycle, you experience your surroundings as if riding through an impressionist painting. Country roads carry the traveler through scenes more realistic than any you can find in the virtual world.
DEPARTURE
The congested Highway 64 eastbound morning commute into Cary was taking its toll on me. I was born and raised along Highway 64 not far from here, and I’ve witnessed the boom. The state bird has become the crane and the bullish housing market is resilient to outside economic downturns. Like other North Carolinians, I can feel the heat; however, I am thankful for it. For some people, the reset button looks like a set of golf clubs or two bottles of wine. For me, it’s exploring the world on two wheels, and North Carolina offers opportunities to escape the daily grind thanks to its in-between towns a stone’s throw from the traffic jams.
My go-to day trip has always been somewhere in the middle of nowhere west of Jordan Lake, following stretches of road with rolling hills near bodies of water, to a place called Saxapahaw. With its riverside general store, live music and three grades of ethanol-free fuel, it’s a worthwhile place to visit. But that’s another story for another day. My friend Seth, once a jet mechanic in the Navy and now an electrical engineer, is practiced in the art of motorcycle route planning, and he memorized the back roads to Carthage. We penciled it in for a Friday in early May when the weather was perfect.
Onward we throttled, our senses focused exclusively on the task at hand as we headed west on Tody Goodwin Road, then south over Harris Lake. Seth was on his Triumph Speed Triple with all its beautiful sound and torque, and I was on my throaty BMW R nineT Urban G/S.
Motorcycling has a way of calming the spirit. It’s an activity of the mind and eyes more than anything else, and this explains why folks more seasoned in years often do it to stay sharp. Lakes, whenever you cross them, have a way of washing away layers of lingering stress from traffic jams or other low-hanging worries. Water is, after all, one of the earth’s four elements and is symbolic for washing the soul. After an hour of less-traveled country roads, we came across a freestanding brick tower covered in graffiti that looked straight out of a Cormac McCarthy story.
The Carbonton Dam was a hydroelectric dam on the Deep River in Sanford that was removed in 2005 due to environmental damage. The removal—the largest of its kind in North Carolina—restored 10 miles of the Deep River to its natural flow, revealing rapids unseen for decades. The site is the geographic center of North Carolina, 45 miles from Greensboro, Raleigh and Fayetteville. The concrete powerhouse tower remains as a historic landmark—part of Deep River Park, open to the public with picnic tables and informational signs.
After exploring the tower we set sail, for what seemed like a short distance, to the entrance of the Pik N Pig—and that’s where things became more interesting.
DESTINATION
The Pik N Pig is a beloved barbecue restaurant in Carthage, known for its hickory-smoked barbecue, slow-cooked over a natural wood fire, which gives the meat a distinctive pink hue and juicy flavor. The restaurant embodies Southern hospitality, with a menu featuring classic pulled pork, brisket, smoked chicken, ribs, and sides like hushpuppies with jalapeño butter, baked beans and coleslaw.
What sets the Pik N Pig apart is its location on a small private airstrip, making it a “fly-in” restaurant. Pilots frequently land at the airfield just to dine, with planes taxiing as close as 50 feet from the restaurant’s patio. This aviation connection adds a special vibe, with diners—especially kids—enjoying the sight of small planes landing and taking off. The airfield, designated BQ-1, is home to about 22 aircraft, and the restaurant’s proximity to Pinehurst’s golf scene also draws visitors.
After our satisfying meal, one of the servers, who disclosed she had worked as a photographer at the zoo, offered to take our photo by the outdoor model plane. I’m sure she felt right at home having a couple of monkeys in front of the camera again. Reluctantly, we put on our helmets and gloves and said goodbye to the Pik N Pig, and hello again to the open country roads that led north into Pittsboro. There were several photo-op stops on this leg of the journey; we stopped for one by a fence with yellow wildflowers in the foreground and a tree on a hill in the distance. The sky was spectacular, the kind you rarely see this side of the Mississippi. The picturesque landscape continued, and we were in it. I followed Seth as his route allowed me to relax and take in the scenery more than if I were constantly referring to a screen for navigation; this is another thing I was thankful for.
Before long, we entered Pittsboro from the south and into downtown. We landed at Havoc Brewing Company, which also has a coffee shop providing alternatives to alcohol for journeys such as these. The outdoor patio on the street corner is the best in town for people-watching, as was the neverending flow of roundabout traffic encircling the Chatham County Courthouse. Built in 1881, this iconic brick structure is a focal point of the Pittsboro Historic District, listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1979. It stands at the intersection of U.S. Hwy 64 Business and U.S. Hwy 15/501, surrounded by the town’s traffic circle, which is often referred to as the “Circle City” roundabout.
DISCOVERY
We peeled out of Pittsboro and back onto Highway 64, eastbound over Jordan Lake, in time to make it home before dark. There were no traffic jams and there was no sun in our faces. Only those growing silhouettes the sun makes when it’s at your back and you’re doing something. It was as if our shadows were the layers of whatever it was we were worrying about before the trip, now being peeled away and sinking back into the darkness of the night. We were thankful for it.
