September 12, 2023
Liquescent
Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap.
Rain on the fly of the tent.
The two seals popping up for air along the shore of Smallpox Bay aren’t concerned. The tree frogs can’t stop singing about it. I’m a little worried it’ll get worse, so I pack up before any of the other campers and get back to climbing hill after hill.
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I don’t ride with music playing. It spoils the quiet beauty and idle thoughts that are kind of the point of bike touring. But I’ve had the same song from the movie Frozen 2 stuck in my head since yesterday and I’m about to have a mental breakdown, so I break my rule on this damp morning on the west side of San Juan Island.
Wet roads, cool air, the smell of cut grass, sheep farms, cranking up away from the sea and back down again — it feels like I'm cycling in New Zealand, minus the hand pies and sweet accents.
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