better than the bathroom floor
The next day I rode to the outskirts of St. Louis where another college friend, Cheryl Bryant, picked me up. She and her mother lived in Florissant, a suburb, and I stayed with them for the next six days.
The stop was timely, because I spent the following morning in the bathroom with vomiting and diarrhea. I finally got so tired of going back and forth that I just dragged my sleeping bag into the restroom and fell asleep on the floor. Fortunately, they had two bathrooms.
Later that morning, I crawled to the recliner and fell asleep. Upon finding me there, Mrs. Bryant asked,
"How does that chair sleep? Better than the mattress?"
"No, but better than the bathroom floor."
I stayed there from 6/19/82 through 6/26/82 and will skip all of the fun things I did because although I had a blast it would be really boring to read about (Gateway Arch, Cardinals baseball game, lots of eating out, etc).
Since I started this trip, I couldn’t tell you what day of the week it was. Now that my watch battery died, I couldn’t tell you what time it was either (although, you’ll be glad to know that somehow I still managed to document what time I woke up on every single day I was there). I bought a new watch battery the day before I left.
With each passing day it became more difficult to leave. Cheryl’s dad had died less than a year ago and we spent their first Father’s Day without him together. Throughout my time there, I could sense their underlying grief covered with a patina of smiles and practiced laughter.
The inertia was becoming palpable, and I finally decided it was time to leave before I ended up spending the summer at Camp Bryant. They certainly made me feel welcome, but I had more miles to ride....
....and more adventures down the road.
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