November 7, 2008
catching fresh fish, building empty condos, a real gullywasher, I'd have to kill you
Day Forty Seven
"Sometimes I think I've figured out some order in the universe, then I find myself in Florida."
- Susan Orlean -
"Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet."
- Roger Miller -
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The weather forecasters say there's a fifty percent chance of rain today. Should I believe them? I'm not entirely convinced.
These two pictures were taken last winter:
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I regularly wonder why they don't just open up a window, or perhaps take a peek at a thermometer.
Part of me hopes it does rain because I have some new pannier bags this year. Last year I had some that were "water resistant," which, as far as I can tell, means that if you're pedaling through the Sahara desert during a record drought and your bags are full of cement powder, by the end of the day they'll be the consistency of granite. My new ones are waterproof, and the manufacturer (German, as Klaus pointed out) boasts in their ads that it's the only pannier bag in which you can take your pet goldfish with you on tour. You can actually fill them up with water and they won't leak.
I don’t know about a pet goldfish, but it's something to consider if I ever want to ensure I have fresh fish on a short tour. I can picture myself just pulling over under a tree and cooking fresh trout. I would, of course, have to leave behind a few less important items, like tools to repair the bike, clothing, and medical supplies, but ….mmmmm…. fresh fish.
On second thought, considering my fishing skills, I’m not sure I could catch them even if I upended the bag and they were flopping around at my feet.
As I mentioned yesterday, since crossing the ferry yesterday, and also as I ride today, I would estimate that about half of the condos and houses are for sale. What's even more peculiar is the frenzied pace of construction. In spite of the completed ones being empty, they're building like it's a race to see who's going to be able to sell the most.
Although there's no actual precipitation the humidity is hovering around 100%, which means it may as well be raining because I'm just as wet as if I'd pedaled through a downpour. Welcome to the Gulf Coast, where you never actually dry off.
In Pensacola, I accidentally got off the route. Sometimes, it's a matter of paying attention to the map or paying attention to traffic. I generally choose the latter.
I ended up downtown and, since it was time for lunch, picked a random place. The restaurant I selected, New York Nick's, had an air of longstanding history, real or imagined. The walls were adorned with signed pictures of celebrities, none of whom I recognized. It made me wonder if some of the “famous” people who visited are more regionally famous rather than internationally reknowned..... “Austin, Owner of the Bamboo Motel Chain,” for example. Or maybe they were just stock photos.
I set off again at 1:15. About half an hour later it started raining, so I decided to pull over and wait it out.
By this time, the intermittent rain had created unavoidable puddles, so when everything below my knees started getting wet I put on my rain pants and booties (er, I mean shoe covers) and started riding again. When I got to Pace it started raining again, this time in thick, sloppy drops, so I stopped under an awning and donned my rain jacket.
Twenty minutes later the heavens truly opened. It was the type of rain we used to describe in the South as "a real gullywasher."
As adults, we frequently go to great lengths to avoid getting wet. Like a child stomping on puddles in a rainstorm, I felt a certain joy pedaling through the downpour. My gear is completely dry, and in my rainsuit I'm neither wet nor cold, so why not just enjoy it?
Pictures taken along the way....
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2 months ago
2 months ago
Feeling peckish again, I stopped at Wendy's for a hamburger. While I was there I asked the cashier where the Red Carpet Inn was. She didn't know, and asked a couple of other people behind the counter. None of them were sure, but one of the guys told me he thought it was about five miles off the route, and in the direction from which I'd just come.
I thought it seemed odd that the ACA list would have something that far off the route, so I thought I'd ask one more person before riding that far. As I was walking to the door the only other customer there asked me where I started. That's always the opening line, and before long he was telling me about himself. I bought a Frosty and sat down to join him.
His name is Mike. He lives in the area and is employed making airplanes for the government. He really likes his job and they treat him well, or he'd already be somewhere else by now. This is the longest he's ever lived in one place.
"How long is that?" I asked.
"Five years," was the response.
He'd like to hike from Mexico to Alaska next year. He's 64 and ready to retire, and has enough saved to be able to live comfortably. He said he's consider doing a bike trip like mine, but noted,
"There are a lot of crazy people on the road."
What he does is classified and he pulled out the very old, very tired joke,
"If I told you I'd have to kill you."
I chuckled, assuring him that I didn't need to know that badly. He was able to secure his current job thanks to a previous classified clearance. He's worked with airplanes since he was in Viet Nam.
When Mike shared that he did three tours in Viet Nam as a Marine, I asked,
"So, is it true? Once a Marine, always a Marine?"
He didn’t answer directly, and instead pointed over to a truck parked outside which was adorned with a Marines license plate, a Marines license plate holder, several Marine bumper stickers, and POW/MIA magnetic stickers. He didn't need to add anything to what he hadn't already said.
After his first tour he asked to be retrained. He paused, gazing out the rain-splattered window, then added,
"I've done things I'm not really proud of... but someone had to do them."
Then, a few seconds later,
"I had nightmares for four years.”
I recalled Cecil, and didn’t ask about any specifics. After a moment he came back to the present, smiled, and said,
"I learned to field strip an airplane and put it back together in half an hour."
Okay, that joke actually IS funny.
I asked him where the Red Carpet Inn was, and told him where the guy behind the counter had said it was. He cleared up the confusion with,
"No... That's the Red Roof Inn,"
after which he gave me accurate directions.
Eventually, I found the motel. I'm feeling pretty good this evening. Even after riding for five days, I don't feel tired, and I don't have the normal aches and pains that accumulate over a few days riding, so I'm thinking of postponing my rest day.
I am hard.
Okay, maybe not... but perhaps hardening.
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distance: 60 miles
average speed: 14.0 mph
maximum speed: 32 mph
time on bike: 4:16:38
cumulative: 2363 miles
Today's ride: 60 miles (97 km)
Total: 2,358 miles (3,795 km)
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2 months ago