You Just Never Know...

Riding Day 32 – 47.25 miles

When I climbed out of the tent this morning, the first thing I did was investigate the great armadillo heist from the night before. What, I wondered, had been pilfered from our supplies? It only took me about 30 seconds to discover the hard truth, that the little scamp had absconded with our last box of mac & cheese! The hard pasta shells were scattered on the ground, but the orange powder was completely gone, the package licked clean, and I envisioned an orange-faced armadillo terrorizing the campground for the next few days and spurning more than few tales of some strange new creature.

We started pedaling around 9:30 with rain forecast to begin in the early afternoon. I was feeling a bit sluggish, and by noon we had only covered a little over 20 miles. The roads were mediocre, and the wind was in our face and building as the day progressed. It felt like so many other days, days we’d become intimate with whether we wanted to or not, the roadside debris familiar and endless, the noise of passing cars a broken record, the dried-up carcasses of long-dead animals just biological speed bumps to be steered around. It was a day that David Lynch might make into a movie where everything is slightly out of balance, yet the characters remain wholly unaware and continue with their routines while the world slowly erodes around them….it was that kind of day. 

By 2pm we had clawed our way to 47 miles. It had rained a few times, just enough to cool without soaking. We’d met The Bob in a parking lot in Gulf Shores, AL to refuel and hydrate. I was slumped in the back seat of the OREM eating Peanut M&M’s and chips, while Odie was up front texting an old friend we hoped to meet with later that day. He texted Odie about the big storm coming our way soon, and upon checking an app I have that shows a live Doppler radar feed, I called it for the day. The radar showed intense rain was just minutes away, and sure enough, the sky opened up shortly after I called it quits. I was able to get us a room at the Navy Lodge on NAS Pensacola, some 30 mile east, and as we were driving there, the rain became so intense we had to pull into a parking lot and wait it out.

After cleaning ourselves up, we met Carl, his wife Brenda, and their daughter Sara at a local restaurant. I hadn’t seen Carl since 1988 when we were both still in the navy and much leaner and clean-shaven. Now we have white beards, bellies, progressive lenses, and a certain twinkle in our eyes that maybe wasn’t there before. We caught up with each other’s lives, retold stories of our days as younger men living in a foreign and exotic place, laughed about our foibles and follies, and in what seemed like just a few minutes, it was time to go our separate ways once more, not knowing if we’d ever see each other again. And that’s the craziest thing about goodbyes, the part that wrenches at my gut every time when it involves a loved one or kindred spirit…you just never know…

I’m going to bed now, totally spent from a yin & yang day that I was blessed to have experienced. As for tomorrow, it will take care of itself as long as I remember to get out of the way. Peace.