KARL

Karl is smart, like electrical engineer smart, and immediately friendly in a non-pushover kinda way. He calls me ahead of my arrival to coordinate times but I believe he really wants me to take a different route than what I may be on. He’s giving me street names and landmarks in a fast and repetitive fashion that actually works for me. This is clearly a guy at home in the area and I mark every description he gave as I come into town.

Upon my arrival he thrusts his hand into the space in front of us and waits. I am not a fan of shaking hands because mine don’t work and there’s all this baggage associated with handshakes and blah blah blah but I reach out and over and grip his hand the best I can. I’m blathering about being grateful when I notice his glasses. They are special lenses that have a distinct circle in the center where the prescription changes. I immediately wonder if he can see my skinny arms and legs and the gait I express as I walk. 

We both focus on logistics. I need to remove my SPD recessed sandals before contact with the hardwood floors inside and I want to pull apart all of my gear and choose what’s important before getting a shower and starting some laundry.

His dog, Beau, a big yellow lab of some sort bounds into the garage, a clunky small cowbell around his neck dings and dongs in a long ago muted way as he uses the top of his head to lift my hand up to pet him. We are instant friends with no sizing up or overly polite mannerisms. Beau likes getting petted and follows the path of least resistance. Pleasantries are built into his actions. I can see where he gets it as Karl begins rattling off what he wants to get out of the kitchen and put on the grill while I clean up. It sounds like a feast and I find myself being agreeable.

During dinner Karl begins keying off little bits of my dialogue and expanding into long form stories packed with facts and anecdotes, mostly regarding Springfield.

Turns out he was born just down the lane a bit and has spent most of his life here. He continues to inform me of the street numbering system and how to use it to know distance, directions and when it came to be, how it has changed, it’s ties to the railroad, clocks, DST, and Sears & Roebuck. Karl has a definite grasp of mathematics and seems prone to remembering precise dates. I’m a good listener and a bit like a sponge with food in front of me and I recognize we’re having a good time. I get him going occasionally with prompts about Lincoln, his ride across the southern tier in 2011 and camping fees and then sit back and enjoy the show, complete with visual props, excel spreadsheets and randomly discovered artwork in the form of pen and ink drawings of his father from WWII. 

Karl asks me what I do for a living that I can do this ride. I generally go with retired for this question but instead I carefully thread the needle of my disability and I open up about my story. It feels good to hear myself speak of bicycle touring without trying to justify how it is possible for me financially. I’m definitely poor and I am on disability. This can make certain people uneasy that aren’t sitting in front of me. How can I accomplish so much and not work? The full verbal story attempts to close the circle but a quick viewing of me walking, trying to stand still without something to hold onto or seeing my hands, especially when trying something manually tedious, ties the ends together and makes a knot in the picture. 

This gives Karl the opportunity to tell me about his own disability experience. He was born with vision impairment, which is what led to him cycling - he can’t drive. We both get it and there’s no sorrys or boos. We’re both living our lives and celebrating each day we have, neither of us are in the shadows. 

That only leaves one other person out at this point. In his bio online he writes that he lost his wife in 2019. How and why are for him to tell or not, but I can feel his love for her in every aspect of his existence, every move he makes. The way he speaks of her is tender and stoic. That he misses her is given. That he lives beyond compromises is undeniable. He has an innate grasp of the temporary and I believe this is why I’m drawn to him. The river flows as we watch the banks being carved out. Some are long soft curves stretching miles and others almost fold in on themselves before turning back towards the sea.

We turn back towards food and each have a delicious ice cream sandwich. Karl is the kind of guy that I would ride bikes with often if we were closer. It amazes me the connections that I develop out here and in such short bursts of time. The kindness and compassion of others is more important than ever and Karl is a shining star at the center of his own galaxy. What a beautiful universe we occupy together.