Woke up naturally at 7 just as I told him I would. Put all parts of the bed away, brushed teeth did hair, packed bike, double checked the repairs that needed to be done, still not even 8. He is still asleep. Sister wakes up, I talk with her, she makes me coffee. The mother wakes up, I talk with her awhile, I tell them that Ill be back, I promised their son/brother breakfast, Ill get it and bring it back. Go to a restaurant, get breakfast for everyone, myself included, meet a guy there, asks me to join him, I do. Hes a former marine, retired motorcycle cop from New England, wearing a a blue one piece jump suit, has his left hand wrapped in a cloth cast, in good shape, easy to talk to, great sense of humor, my kind of people. Tells me he has traveled around the country by bicycle and motorcycle, has done cross country but never the southern tier, rode through south america, told about some books he read and really liked, looked at the bike, called the two bike shops in town for me, no answer, it is labor day, most shops are closed, talks more about how he was able to get picked up as deck hand for a yacht, offers advice in finding opportunity, teaches me about miner culture. I really want to talk to him more but Ive got to run the food back. Say bye, leave, get lost on the way back to the house, back track, find the house, drop off the food, thank everyone, leave. I ride around town looking for hardware stores, fist one doesnt have metric, second one does, get a whole new set of bolts, ride around town looking for any place with tools, mechanics, blade sharpeners, service centers, all closed for the holiday, go to OReilly, their open, ask to borrow a drill, he lets me, lets me bring the bike in, I find a drill bit and a bolt extractor, use them, no customers so I talk with the guys, ive never done this before, neither have they, I drill a hole through the broken bolt, put the drill exteactor in and switch the drill to reverse, try it, it budges, the drill starts to smoke, no one sees. I try a different approach, I grab some vise grips, clamp the extractor, try it, it works, use some plyers to pull the broken bolt from the extractor, tighten everything up, replace all the rear rack bolts, fix my pedal and pedal cages, say thanks for everything, leave. Stop off at a gas station to refill water, shave in the restroom leave. Bike a few miles to the next junction stop to check direction, reach fro the phone, no phone, forgot it in the restroom, race back, curse myself for being a perfect fool, bike hard, get tired, stupidity shouldnt be rewarded with rest, keep going, make it back, find the phone, rejoice. I have now biked about 15 mile and im still in town and tired. Move on. Bike about four miles after the junction, see an old house, stop for a break and some food, check the door of the house, it pushes open, walk around looking at things, everything is old and covered in cobwebs, come across a package from amazon, relatively recent, time to go. Walk outside, turn the corner and see an old man with a dog walking towards me with gloves. I say hi, talk with him, introduce myself, he intruces me to his dog Henry. He isnt alarmed at all that im on his property and isnt necessarily concerned with who I am. He has heart issues and is on dialysis, he walks and talks well but is incredibly gaunt. He was coming out to finish up some yard work around the house for exercise. Has no family,only a girl friend, grew up there, tells me stories about the town ranging from accusation of military barracks to train derailment to the mining to hot springs in the area to he process of making pure metals. He is incredibly articulate and accurate down to the number of miles away I will see things while riding on the road, the first person thus far. I offer an apple, he doesnt hve enoughh teeth to eat it, declines. I play with henry a little more and say bye. I bike on. I see the huge pit just as dusk hits. Bike more. Hear I near continuous screaching of redtailed hawks in the dark. Bike on. Elevation increase, temperature change, the roads are lonely, I zigzag across both lanes of traffic to make the climb easier, find a field mouse, dismount, stun him with the strobe, take a picture, move on. Bike for about 20miles only 2 are down hill, the terrain smells like pine trees, water can be heard on either side of the road, the wind picks up, the woods become noisy with rustling, multiple signs are passed, stating the active pressence of bears in these woods, a deer prances across my light 10 meters away, the bushes behind him rustle, I stop and turn the handle bars see, nothing, too much noise and not enough visibility, i miss the emptiness of the desert. I think ive reached the top multiple times, I never do, I begin to weave with little contol as I pedal, and my eyes are closed more often then not, powered on by a motivation to not sleep in bear infested woods, by my count the next town is 17 miles away, I cant make it, I stop off and find more signs and trash cans that are bear proof. I take the bike and put it in the bathroom, it has all the food, i jam the door, climb the roof and set up camp on top, remember I forgot a jacket and something to use as a pillow, reach for the flashlight, hear a light sound of metal rolling on stone then nothing then a thump, I make due without them, I brace myself with myfeet against the vent pipe so my slick sleeping bag doesnt fall off with me in it. If a bear wants to get up here he probably can but at least the height will buy me some time.
Posted on: Wed, 03 Sep 2014 05:14:05 +0000
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