withinbikingdistance

It seems like these posts are getting longer and longer. I’m not completely sure why that is, but I suppose it could be due to the distance between blog entries. Honestly, I simply just didn’t want to start writing the blog for this week.

We were in Arkansas for quite a long time. I just entered our miles and locations into the WBD tracker spreadsheet and discovered that we were in Arkansas borders for 11 days! That’s longer than we’ve been in any state aside from South Dakota. That’s not to say that it wasn’t great–Arkansas was a lovely surprise. We had a great tour of Little Rock High School though Lizzy and I are of different political perspectives and took different lessons from the museum there. We were both in admiration of the Little Rock Nine and consider ourselves quite lucky to have such a wonderful tour. We also had the pleasure of picking my dad up from the airport and having some much needed company for a while. We made new friends in Atkins, rode dinosaurs in the Ozarks, met friends of friends in Fayetteville, fixed up our cycle scoots for the road ahead and went swimming. What more could you want?

When we first left the Little Rock Airport, Lizzy and I realized with much excitement that the weather was changing. That morning it managed to rain and maintained a pleasant overcast haze until late evening. Rain–yes, even rain–was welcome as we had been cycling through heat that hung in the hundreds well into the night.

My crew

We put Daddy’s bicycle together inside the lobby of the airport. This managed to attract the attention of some friendly security guards, but we were out there lickity-split and onto the Little Rock bike path system. Lizzy and I were excited to offer dad a first hand experience of WBD life complete with sneaky camping, dumpster diving, bugs etc. . . We camped at a church in Maumelle and managed to whip up a mean, chia seed spaghetti for dinner. I couldn’t sleep that night because I was so excited to have Daddy with us, and I horked down a massive milkshake before trying to catch some shuteye. Liz and I kept accidentally setting off the motion activated overhead light so I eventually decided to read the fantastic book that my friend Mary had mailed me. At one point, since I couldn’t sleep, I was able to get into a staring contest with a deer that had wandered into our camp area. It’s not everyday that one enters into a deer-human staring contest. I lost.

The next morning we pedaled off into the beautiful, steamy morning through fields of cows and lazy pine trees. The terrain was becoming increasingly hilly as we approached the Ozarks, but it was decidedly cooler than it had been in weeks. This was good because it was also humid, and though Lizzy and I are used to the humidity here, I don’t think Dad was. We rode full miles and made it as far as Atkins before we realized that we should look for a place to stay the night. The three of us (four if you count Beef) stopped at a little gas station market to get ice water and ask the lady running the store if she knew any numbers for churches in the area. She offered to let us stay with her and her family at her home outside of town. We considered, but not wanting to displace her family for the evening, told her that we would first look for a church at which to camp.

Big man in a little tent

The road we were on was lined with churches on both sides. The second church that we saw had an attached house, so we went to the door hoping that it was the minister’s home. It was. Sister Naomi, pastor of the United Methodist Church in Atkins was home, but didn’t know if we could have permission to camp out behind the church. She left to call the elders and to see if the Baptist Church down the street would let us stay there (they have showers).

While we three were waiting out back for Naomi’s answer, we were approached by a sweet Labrador and a man who went and retrieved a woman named Nancy from a house a yard away. We talked to her for a while and before we knew it, we were all in her house getting ready for showers, dinner, and to stay the night. We thanked Naomi profusely for her efforts to find a place for us, especially after we found out that she was ill, trying to get over a case of shingles.

Nancy has a wonderful home that was built for a doctor in the early 1800s. She bought the home for 8,000 dollars many years back. At the time, it was in such shape that it was necessary to bring an umbrella to the bathroom during rain showers. Now, however, it has been transformed into a cozy, dry home. Nancy, who is town famous for her wonderful pies, got to work in the kitchen and in a matter of minutes whipped up a meal consisting of pork chops, Brussels sprouts, mashed potatoes, corn, green salad, biscuits, gravy, and one of her famous chocolate pies. We were simply flabbergasted by the meal she had managed to put together for us when she had no notice that we three, bear-hungry cyclists were coming. Her pie was deservingly famous (sorry mom) I have never had so good a pie.

Nancy’s Meal

We fell fast asleep with our full bellies and were able to get on the road fairly early the next morning. We rode over increasingly steep hills to a little town called Ozarc. We met a fisherman on the outskirts of town who told us of a campground on the other side of the river and plodded on to a grocery store to get burrito supplies, and then took off to the Army Corps of Engineers campground. Daddy treated us to a wonderful (perfect I might say) campsite along the river. I put my hammock up in some trees along the water’s edge and set the tent up for Dad. We made some burritos and fell into a wonderful sleep. It was an absolutely perfect night–cool and beezy. The stars were out, and though we were on the river’s edge, there were no bugs.

A perfect camp spot, even with Elvis

I woke up in the morning to the sound of Elvis floating across the river. I was not pleased. At first I thought it might be a fishing boat blasting the radio, but the river was clear of watercraft. Dad suggested that it could be the shift change at the Butterball processing plant across the river. We all had theories. We rode back into town to get our fill of hashbrowns and sundry and discovered that the town of Ozark was hosting its annual Rods and Ribs car show/BBQ. They were the Elvis culprits. We decided to check out some of that classic car action after chowing down on a delicious breakfast.

Waking up to Elvis

The thing about big breakfast is that one’s body requires a nap after eating it. Unfortunately, we had no nap time scheduled for that day. We slowly rode on over the river bluff hills , each left to his own thoughts. For instance, “why did I eat biscuits and gravy” and, “do babies grow more hair follicles on their heads as they get bigger, or are they born with all that they need and as their head grows the follicles spread out to cover that larger space?”

We made it as far as Alma before we had to have a little powwow to decide whether we should go west towards Ft. Smith and push up toward Joplin, MO, or to follow the hillier, but shorter Route 71 to Bentonville and take a zero day to figure out how to get Daddy’s bike packed up and get him to the airport in Tulsa. We knew that whichever way we chose we would have to be in a town big enough to have a bike shop, UPS store, and transportation to Tulsa. We ended up decided to take the shorter route to Bentonville so that we would have more time to visit and get to stop by Lizzy’s cross country coach’s friends in Fayetteville.

Now that a plan had been established, we had time to get slushies from Sonic and peruse a gigantic second hand store across the parking lot. We got some treasures including a Star Trek Mugato and a really cool Davy Crockett figurine. From there, we made it up a steep hill to a KOA and decided to make camp for night, eat burritos, and go swimming.

If anyone finds him, treat him well

Side note: This is the last seen location of Davy Crockett

The folks running the KOA were a little off so to speak, but we had a good time in spite of them. Our camp spot neighbors had a gigantic RV with a side porch complete with outdoor TV. We had a good laugh because of them as they were reclining in lawn chairs outside their massive home watching TV, but it’s not really like we were doing any hardcore camping anyway. Our own little camp spot had wifi.

We left in the morning to tackle more hills, ride some dinosaurs at a little community park, and enjoy the cool air of the mountains. The later was an exceptional gift. It seems that in fall has come in all of one day. We plodded up the mountains and were impressed by the view at Artist’s Point, then rode on to Fayetteville to stay with Becky and Larry.

Lizzy’s new tour style

Larry was waiting for us with the makings for an exceptional curry. We all three invaded their home, took showers, did laundry, began the tremendous task of charging every electronic device we could muster, and devour Larry’s delicious homemade salsa. We had a lovely dinner together and even got a chance to see some end of the season fireflies. Becky out together a wonderful area for us to sleep and we all crashed around 9:00. Lizzy and my sleeping schedule is a little bit goofy since we have been rising and sleeping with the sun. Now, we are both suddenly stricken with sleepiness immediately after dark.

When we woke in the morning, Becky had a wonderful breakfast smorgasbord waiting for us. We had delicious coffee, various granolas and yogurts, and a great chance to talk. We left just before noon and Becky rode with us to the point in the trail where she felt comfortable leaving us without fear of our being lost. We got a group picture and took off onto the Razorback Greenbelt. That trail system is another reason to like Arkansas.

We and Becky

Last known sighting of Davy Crockett

We only had 27 miles to go that day in order to get to Bentonville. We couldn’t really go further because we needed to be able to have a day to pack up Dad’s bike and such, so we decided to take the day really easy. We also decided that the following afternoon we would ride out to the Crystal Bridges American Art Museum and spend some time there. But first, we needed to ride to a bike shop and secure a large box.

We rode to the nearest shop I could find and ended up replacing Lizzy’s chain and freewheel there. They had no bike boxes, but did have a significant secret coupon for a nearby hotel. We decided to check into that hotel and ride out to the bike shop Becky had told us about, Phat Tire. We got there and were glad to find ourselves in a real, honest to goodness bike shop. A Trek dealer to boot, it reminded me of Tommy’s back home. They were able to hold a box for us and I decided to buy some new bar tape for my Amelia since I have always hated the green tape I put on her before we left and by then that tape had been reduced to shreds. I had been re-wrapping my bars in rope from side of the road. That was working, but it was not a tidy looking thing.

We affixed the box to my rear rack and I bike delivered it to the hotel. The bike shop was only three miles from where we were staying, the hotel had offered us a ride there for 20 dollars but I simply refused. I have never been denied a load on my bicycle except for my guitar and I don’t think my guitar is something to be bicycle goofing around with anyway.

Why the heck not?

We made it ‘home’ without a hitch and retrieved another coupon to a Thai restaurant across the street. We froggered cross four lanes of traffic to get there, but it was worth it. So worth it that we decided we’d have to go back the next day. When we got back to our room (which was scattered with the luggage, tools, and paraphernalia of three bike tourists) I received a phone call from home. My friend Wayland had been oiling the roof and had slipped, fallen, and broken his back. It was very upsetting, but I was glad to be able to get some words with him before the doctor came. This did nothing to decrease my mounting desire to be home.

Though we were concerned for Wayland, we had made the best of the time that we had. Each to his own chore, we kept telling ourselves that we were going to have a Netflix party. It didn’t happen that night. When we woke up, we had until 11 to clean up the gigantic mess that we had created. Balancing coffee, bikes, rats, and swamp hats we made quite a spectacle as we left the hotel building. We checked into a hotel across the street that had a pool, deposited the elephantine box there, and rode out to Crystal Bridges.

None of us had checked the times for the art museum since it was a Tuesday, but sure enough, it was closed when we arrived. Apparently they close every Tuesday for building maintenance. It was a bummer, but we got to ride around the grounds and see a couple sculptural pieces. We spent a good while at the geodesic sphere called the Buckey Ball. From there we decided to get some chores done and buy some groceries, packing tape, and a sharpie from Walmart.

The Buckey Ball

Walmart is from Bentonville, and everywhere you go there are blue and khaki clad professionals. We meandered through towering Walmart Corporate Offices, Walmart International Offices, Walmart Research and Development etc, until we found the layman’s Walmart. We got our things and rode home to take a nap and go swimming.

That night we did go back to the Momma Fu’s Thi restaurant (which was just as good the second time) and managed to get Dad’s bicycle packed up. We watched a couple original Twilight Zones and ate popcorn and M&M’s as per family tradition.

The next morning we had until 9:00 to get the bicycle to the UPS store 0.6 miles away. Dad and I left Lizz in the hotel room in case the shuttle driver came early, and the two of us carried the bike down to the store. By the time we got back, this shuttle man had arrived. We gave hugs all around, and then Dad was gone.

Lizzy and I packed up and headed out. I had to make a couple stops on the way out of town, but we were on our way in no time. We followed the bike path to the Missouri border, and then rode through the mountains to Baxter Springs, Kansas. We rested there, and were so close to Oklahoma that we couldn’t stop for the night. In spite of the gnarly headwind, we pushed on, into OK and made it as far as Miami. It was a long day.

We’re not in Kansas anymore

We saw a church with cars in the parking lot and decided to pop in and ask for permission to camp on the property. They were in the midst of a huge teen rally event so we waited around for a while. We were given the okay and were shown to an absolutely perfect covered area where we could camp, and were invited inside to get our fill of leftover fruits, cookies, Gatorades, and doughnuts. We were also shown to the showers and got to spend some time talking with those who were cleaning up after the event. We headed back outside and cooked up a mean batch of burritos but were unable to eat all that we’d made since we had snacked so much in the church.

Oklahoma

After a good night’s sleep, we headed out towed Tulsa where Lizzy’s family lives. We made it as far as Sequoyeh before it started getting dark. We had no place to stay and the only church in town was chuck full of little kids practicing football. There was a basketball game going on at the high school across the street so Lizzy and I rode over to the high school to wait and see which location vacated first. We had a fine dinner of chilly, canned goods. After an hour, it became obvious that neither place would be empty anytime soon, but the basketball game had ended. The two of us went into the school to use the restroom and fill water bottles.

I do not like the idea of sleeping on school property when school is in session because it is just not a very responsible thing to do, but we really had no place to go. The plan was to cross the school property and hammock in some trees on the other side of the parking lot, but when we made it to the trees we saw that they were enclosed in by a fence and tall grass was growing between them. I had seen some fairly sizable snakes on the side of the road and the prospect of hopping a fence into unknown, potentially snake infested shrubbery was not appealing. Instead, we wheeled around behind the gym where a cluster of air conditioning units were sitting on a bug-free concrete pad. We popped up the tent and set the alarm for six. I wanted to be out of there well before any people showed up, but I knew that if anyone had the gumption to show up to work very early they would probably be some of those crazy self-disciplined exercise people and head straight for the gym.

Sure enough, when the alarm went off just before six in the morning, someone was already in the gym. I rolled my bike away from the windows and we packed up camp. We were on the road well before the sun had risen, and thus got to experience a glorious Oklahoma sunrise as we pedaled toward the nearest place to get coffee.

Since we had pushed ourselves to Seqouyeh the night before, we had less than thirty miles to ride that morning. We were excited to be heading toward Lizzy’s mom’s aunt and uncle’s home. It was an eventful ride nonetheless. We were traveling along Route 66 which is has stretches of high traffic. I hadn’t really slept much the night before and I missed a turn, so we were on 66 a bit longer than we really needed to be. In that time, a horrible, maroon PT Cruiser looking vehicle wooshed by us followed by about twenty Police/Sheriff/Highway Patrol cars. We pulled off the road to watch the high speed parade and then carried on our way. Whoever they were chasing was making quite a mess of the place and for a while after they had first passed us we heard and saw evidence of their evasion. At one point we ambled upon the crushed remains of a Sheriff’s SUV and a poor little mini truck (I have a growing fondness for minitrucks and I was upset to see that causality) We rode on, up an extremely steep hill, and into the loving arms of Maryann and Dale.

Model trains: one of Dale’s many talents

Lizzy had put together a nostalgia tour bike route, and I needed to work on the maps. After eating a wonderful lunch with Maryann and Dale, Lizzy biked off into her memory and I used Dale’s computer to get some work done. I haven’t really been in front of a computer for any great time since school. I was surprised by the burning in my eye sockets and the hot, splitting feeling creeping up in my brain. I was starting to get nauseous before I decided that maybe I should let it go and relax a little. Maryann–a superb hostess–showed me to my room and shower. I sat down on the bed for a minute and fell asleep, waking up about an hour later not realizing what had happened. I went back downstairs to visit with Maryann and play with two of her grandbabies that she was watching. It was absolutely wonderful.

After a little while, Lizzy and Dale returned (Lizzy and the bike got a ride back home) and we all got ready for the arrival of Dale and Maryann’s children and their families for a Baker family Friday pizza party. It was a hoot, but once 9:00 came Lizzy and I both found ourselves fighting back sleep. I finally gave in and went to bed.

I woke up at 9:00 the next morning. That was pretty shocking to me since I rarely sleep past 7:30. Dave and Maryann were away, so Lizzy and I helped ourselves to coffee and oatmeal and waited for their return. We left for lunch with Lizzy’s Aunt Kim and cousin Danny. We got our fill of fajitas and then went back to their home to have a private showing of Danny’s mad martial arts skills. He is preparing to test for his black belt. We also got the opportunity to work on a coloring project–Kim teaches kindergarten.

We left around 4:00 to go back to Dale and Maryann’s to meet with Lizzy’s cousin Erin. She was planning on bringing us and the two bikes to grandpa Trickey’s, but a quick assessment of the cubic footage in the back of her minivan told us that nothing shy of a miracle would get our colossal amount of impedimenta in the back. We ended up cramming Lizzy’s bike in the back of the van and made arrangements for Erin’s husband to retrieve my bicycle after work.

We hopped into the van and took off to see Erin’s new house and get some ice cream from the Oklahoma landmark, Braum’s. We had a great time giggling and being utterly silly as we drove around Owasso, then to Erin’s where we played with her five dogs and chickens. Erin, who is a professional hair cutter-upper, gave Lizzy’s quaff a much needed chop. An edgy look for Oklahoma, but a breezy one for riding bikes through the desert.

We all loaded into the van and headed through the dark to Grandpa and Grandma Tricky’s, where we were met–with miraculous timing– Erin’s husband who had managed to transport with neigh a scuff the “biggest, most awkward bike on earth.” Many thanks.

fixing a flat

We had a good chat before Erin and her husband Robert headed home. For us, the chat continued to midnight.

We were awakened the following morning by a trumpet blast, the low crash of thunder, and the sky split apart by lightening. It was a wake-up call of Biblical proportions, as are the intentions of Grandpa Tricky who blows his horn every morning at at sunrise before his prayer time.

I think I might let Lizzy pick up from this point. With this abrupt ending… Thank you to everyone who sent us letters and packages. It is always a blessing to hear from home, and abroad too!

PS This is a Gorn

This is a Mugato

Mugato

I happen to like me some Gene Roddenberry Star Trek.

mississippi sunrise

The scene is this: hot, sunny, and in the middle of nowhere, Mississippi. We focus in on two possibly homeless girls on bikes. They sweat profusely. One burps, interrupting the constant buzzing screech of the cicadas in the heat.

Welcome to our life.

Okay, so we left off in Lumberton, MS last week. We had spent many an hour working away in the library, and generally just schmoozing it up in the air conditioning.

Once the post was posted and we had exhausted all further excuses for loitering around, we headed out into the blazing sun and hit the road. We didn’t have many more miles to go to achieve our 55 mile goal, so soon entered Baxterville, which was made up of exactly two businesses: one Family Dollar and one teensy convenience store.

it’s hot, we ride bikes. repeat.

As we were stopped in front of the Family Dollar checking the map to see what camping possibilities we had, a car full of folks pulled out, collectively gave us the stink eye, then proceeded to drop trash right into the road as they drove off.

Where are we??? One thing we both sorely miss about home is the attitude of protecting the earth, recycling, not using plastic bags unnecessarily, and you know, stuff like not dropping your garbage out the window…

(Okay, I know, there are litter bugs back home as well)

Anyways, after being aghast at such a display of inconsiderate behavior for a few moments, we rolled on to a community center down the road. I admit, this town was so teeeensy tiny backwoodsy that I was surprised there was even a community center.

It was a small brick building with a couple busted up picnic tables out back. We situated ourselves, making sure not to sit on any rusty nails poking up through the fractured seats and table tops, and dined on a fine meal of beanie bean burritos.

Beef thinks these tables need fixin.

Stink set the tent up out back, and as night fell, I set out to find a place to fill my water bottles. I had seen a Chevron gas station sign off in the distance as we pulled into the parking lot earlier, so in the burgeoning darkness, I headed that way.

Only, I couldn’t see the sign in the distance anymore. It should’ve been a beacon of civilization, like a lighthouse in the boon doggies. But it wasn’t there! Eventually I rolled up to the unlit busted up ol Chevron sign, and there wasn’t a gas station in sight…

By now, night had taken over, and I turned round and headed back the way I came, toward the little bitty convenience store by the Family Dollar. On my way to the Chevron sign, I had passed a dog that was, uhm, vocal about my proximity to his territory. On my way back by, he discovered that his gate was wide open, so proceeded to give me chase down the road.

I put the pedal to the metal, er, uh, well, I put the pedals to the air, circularly, with much speed. It was pitch black out now, and I couldn’t see schmidt, but the subtle sounds of a beastie coming from directly behind me spurred me on.

I was pretty sure I’d have to jump off the bike and dash inside and slam the doors of the teeny mart, but when I reached the low wattage buzzing lights out front, the beastie dog was no longer at my heels, and I was able to dismount without needing a change of underwear.

Once I finished filling water from the hose spigot outside, I headed back home towards the community center. As I approached, I saw the headlights of a truck pulling into our super sneaky stealth campspot. No bueno.

I reached the truck as dogs and people piled out left and right. Tweaker people, dear readers. They swarmed around (and out back, though I didn’t know it at the time, their wild dogs were circling around the tent, seemingly intent on eating Stink). I’m serious when I say they were a gang of tweakers; they were straight wigging out, doing lots of crazy arm motions, talking in a way that was more incomprehensible than a mere deep southern Mississippi accent, and generally, just behaving in a way obviously indicative of not being quite right in the head.

But they were nice!

The lead tweaker, who seemed less tweaked out (thankfully, as he was the driver), said they came down to the community center once a day to fill up buckets of ice. I went inside with them, and it was so nice and cool, compared with the hot muggy outside. Tweaker leader said we could camp out in there for the night, if we just locked the doors in the morning.

I was all for it, so as the tweaker truck pulled out into the night, we pulled our bikes inside, and immediately got to work blowing up the place. He had said to keep the lights off (we weren’t officially supposed to be there), so we crawled around the linoleum floor in the dark, ate all our snacks, played on our gadgets, then eventually drifted off to sleep. We locked the door that night…

Stink found an adorned a fancy hat for my amusement at some point. I was amused.

In the morning, we cleared the heck outta there, biked forever, and at some point reached a McDonald’s for a lengthy loiter. After McDonald’s, we hit the road again, and the miles flew by. A truck pulled over in front of us, and we stopped to talk with the fella inside, D’Andre. He said had seen us at the McDonald’s, and then he offered me his spare apple pie. I no thanks, but then, later, I wished I might’ve said yes. It’s not every day that someone offers you a pie…

He had a lady on speaker phone while he was talking with us, and was just plumb tickled with our adventure. He said we could come shower if we needed, cause he lived in the town we were headed for. We got his address for future post card correspondence at least, and then continued our way.

much thanks to these fine folks

We stopped at a promising church at the beginning of town though, and asked if we could crash inside for the night (it was crazy hot out still, makes it real hard to sleep, also bugs). The pastor man Terry came and talked with us, then blew our minds cause he insisted that we let him arrange a hotel room for us for the night. We were like, “No really, we can just sleep on the floor here! We like it! No, we love it! It’s our favorite!” but nothing we said would sway him.

We’ll, we were real appreciative of what he was doing for us (real beds! air conditioning! complimentary breakfast!), and then he blew our already blown minds when he further insisted we take some dollars and eat at the Mexican restaurant conveniently located in the hotel parking lot. But we love Mexican!

After giving him one million thanks, we headed out to ride the seven miles to the hotel, and met up again with D’Andre on our way. We let him know our good fortune, and that unfortunately we wouldn’t need to come by for a shower after all. But all’s well that ends well. We arrived at the Hampton Inn, got our room checked out, took the scoots up in the elevators, and promptly came back down to hit up the Mexican joint before they closed for the night.

Free chips and salsa, check. Tasty veggie fajitas and burritos, check. Happy campers, super check. We walked “home” with protruding bellies and a waddling gait.

Showers, wifi, then soon enough, snooze town as we were tuckered out from a days riding in the heat. In the morning we made multiple strategic attacks on the complimentary buffet, that was as good as everyone kept telling us it was.

We didn’t have to be out till noon, so took full advantage of the place and pulled out with not a minute to spare. Pulled right out into a sheer wall of heat, that is. Hello reality.

We scooted along though, and were chased by dogs a few times, stopped for odds and ends like dead butterfly carcasses, lost bandanas, and babydoll heads many times, and were generally just in good spirits all day.

dead things!

We ended in Natchez, MS that day, right on the Mississippi/Louisiana border, and hung about a McDonald’s for a bit, stealthily eating cans of beans for dinner. Obviously not stealthy enough though, as a nice lady came up and asked if I had ordered any food. I thought I was busted for bringing in outside food, but turned out she just thought I was destitute and wanted to buy me dinner. After realizing what she was getting at, I quickly reassured here that all was well, I just can’t/won’t eat most anything from McDonald’s and I was fine. Turns out, eating out a can is a surefire way to immediately look homeless…

We eventually left and hit up a Wal-Mart to stock up on groceries and snackums, then headed out into the night to try to find a place to sleep. We ended up in a Jehovah’s Witness parking lot. It was so hot we couldn’t sleep, and we laid out on the asphalt for hours in a catatonic state.

Eventually we must have drifted off, because in the morning we woke and scooted to the Natchez Coffee Company to drink good coffee, work on WBD stuff, and wait for a newspaper man I had spoken with the day before. He was a no-show, but we enjoyed our hours of comfortable coffee shop atmosphere.

mississippi crossing, I do believe

When we left, we were finally able to cross back over the Mississippi River, and into Louisiana.

Louisiana, has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful name?

That day we ended in Tallulah, LA. We found a church at dusk and threw up our hammocks (Stink took the children’s swing-set out back, and I took a couple pillars out front) and attempted to go to sleep. Attempted being the key word here. It was miserably hot, and the mosquitoes and who knows what other hordes of biting insects were relentless. I got up and wandered around in my boxer shorts in a daze at one point late in the night. I was sleep deprived, and out of it. I came back, tried to pass out, still to no avail, and then at three thirty in the morning, got up, threw on my shorts and tennis shoes and exhaustedly weaved my way down the road, talking to myself, and probably looking like a real life zombie. I found myself at a 24/7 laundromat later, eyes drawn into the blinding fluorescent lighting inside. I wandered in, used the potty, checked out all the vending machines, watched some tv, then curled up on a wooden bench, pulled up my bandana over my eyes, and slept for a few fitful hours.

Around five thirty, I got up, walked back to the church, and crawled into my sleeping bag (it was no longer intolerably hot) and zonked for another hour. Stink woke me up then, and said we oughta get packing, as folks in the neighborhood were up and stirring, getting ready for work. We rolled to a McDonald’s and fell asleep at our table (Stink didn’t sleep much at all either, and we were both plastered in bug bites). Then we went to the library to try to get in a nap, but I made a whoopsie at one point by sorta uh, laying down on the couch, and someone had to come and tell us we couldn’t lounge like that on the public couches. Oops. Apparently they said we could use a work room, but it was already like 11 or so, so we packed up and rolled out of there.

there was cotton though!

When we left that day, there wasn’t much of anywhere to stop and take a break at, till we reached Transylvania. Seriously, Transylvania, Louisiana. It consists of one market/restaurant (The Farmhouse), an autoshop, and one dilapidated old school house that earned the spooky name of Transylvania Elementary.

spooky scary, werewolf bar mitzvah

We went into Farmhouse, and we’re right away made quite welcome. They let us fill our water, get ice, and asked lotsa questions about our trip. Upon hearing about our sleeping fiasco the night before, one fella called up his church in the next town to see if we couldn’t sleep there that night, when, once again, our brains were overblown with generosity because the pastorman wanted to put us up in a motel. They got it all arranged for us, and Olivia, the Farmhouse owner, gave us some bananas and other goodies. She told us to call her once we got to the hotel, and that she’d bring us dinner from the restaurant when she got off work at five. Dang, everyone is so nice, it’s nuts.

mmm. food. also, you can tell we are in a dark motel room watching tv. such is the life

So we went back into the heat (and boy, it was a hot one that day) and chugged on till we reached the next town, and the pastorman flagged us down outside the Economy Inn and booked us a room for the night. We thanked our little hearts out and soon piled into our room and cranked the AC. I gave Olivia a call and let her know where we were, then we both laid down and immediately passed out at like three in the afternoon. Mm.. precious sleep.

I had set an alarm for five, so we woke up, turned on the TV, and rubbed out the eye crusties before Olivia showed up. Soon enough her knock sounded at the door and she came in carrying bags laden with dinner. Salads and lima beans and turkey soup stuff for Stink and the most delicious sweet potato pie too. We was in heaven. We watched the final Hobbit movie, which was god-awful, while we feasted, then zonked back to sleep after all was said and done.

The next day was another hot one, and we rode out to Lake Village, entering Arkansas on our way.

featuring my new shark temporary tattoo, courtesy of my pal Steveo

we spotted an alligator in a roadside ditch at one point

We stopped at a visitor’s center on the lake at the beginning of town (sometimes they have free coffee… also postcards, just sayin). The gal behind the desk let us know there was a grocery in town, and that there were state park campgrounds nearby. I think I asked if they were free or not, and accidentally clued her in to our… somewhat hobo-y tour style, as she then said we could camp out for just one night on the visitor’s center property. And that the door to the bathrooms would remain unlocked all night. Remember this, it may or may not come into play later…

We rode further into town, to hang out at the McDonald’s for awhile, and I looked up the Sun Flower grocery store on Google maps. I had my eyes peeled for it on the way into town, so was surprised when Google said it was back the way we’d came. I set off in search of it, and two miles later, found myself back at the visitor’s center, sans grocery store. So I went in and asked where it was. Turns out, it was literally right across the street from McDonald’s. Once I got there, it was glaringly obvious. Talk about being blindsided by technology…

Anyways, we got our grocery on, then scooted out to a lakeside park in town to chow down our beanie bean burritos. There was a huge dead catfish on the rocks, raising quite a stink (heh heh heh) but overall the lake was nice and we were able to dangle our feet in the water and relax.

When it started getting dark, we scooted back to the visitor’s center and pulled our bikes onto the huge multilevel dock porch deck thingy. It had lighting along the waters edge, so folks kept coming by to go fishing. It also attracted swarms of mosquitoes, we relentlessly bit all available surfaces. Stink went up into some trees on the lawn to sling her hammock, and I talked with some fisher folk. The guy said to be careful on the grass cause water moccasins would swim across the lake and slither up there. Gulp. Good luck Stink…

Eventually, I couldn’t stand the bugs and the heat any longer (reoccurring themes in these parts) and marched myself up to the bathrooms. I made a cozy little bed on the floor, jammed the door shut with the wooden doorstop, and zonkered out. Around one or so, Stink joined me on the floor, then headed back out around three. I cleared out at six, and slung my hammock on the dock system, fell back to sleep, woke up a few times, saw that Stink was still out, decided to let her sleep if she was able, so I went back to sleep, all the while she was doing the same with me, so we ended up sleeping in till nine!

Stink came and I packed up, and we chatted with this nice park ranger guy named Ray, who was cool, till he went off on a little political rant (like people end up doing pretty often), but then he eventually wrapped that up, and was cool again, ending the conversation right before we rode off by telling us his plans of getting a whole herd of goats. Like a hundred.

thar be swamps out here, me mateys

We rode along that day, and ended in Dumas, which I could easily make a low-brow joke about the name, but I won’t, because I’m a classy broad. Just kidding, I obviously couldn’t help myself and did just that when I saw what town we were in.

Anyways, we decided to ask a church if we could sleep inside (not wanting a repeat of public restroom floor sleeping night) and quickly found one. We asked a couple ladies who were heading inside if we could talk to the pastor about staying the night, and they went in to see what they could do. Soon enough, this fella Ernie comes out and says they wanted to get us a hotel room for the night. Boom, minds blown for the third time this week. Now we have to stop asking if we can camp indoors because they will insist on getting you a hotel, and we honestly are getting spoiled by all this. We have a perfectly good tent and the ground is our bed.

But yeah, after asking if there was any such possible way of persuading him to let us just sleep on the floor somewhere, we have to admit that hotels are awesome, and we’re really super duper grateful (spoiled, but grateful).

So he drives along and leads us to a Day’s Inn, books us a room, then heads off again. He told the gal at the front desk, Deborah, what we were up to, so she said that if we got bored to come and talk to her cause the cable was out and she had all sorts of questions for us.

So after we got ourselves situated in our super fance room, we went back to the lobby and had a good time sipping coffee and talking tour, and then eventually maths (she’s teaching herself calculus out of a textbook in order to be an actuary), and lots of other things were talked about that I don’t even remember, but it was all good fun. Deborah, you’re way cool and you make me want to go work on a math textbook.

After awhile, we see the two church ladies from earlier pull up outside, so we go greet them, and they wanted to chat too. So all four of us sit out in the lobby and seriously just have a grand time talkin bout this and that. Jesse West (super western bank robber name) and Velva offer to take us out to lunch at the McDonald’s the next day before they leave. We accept and make plans to meet them at noon, conveniently right when we have to be checked out of the hotel (McDonald’s is next door).

here’s a swampy photo to break up all this incessant talking!

We headed back to our room, showered, and got laundry together to do in the hotel laundromat. We end up going and talking to Deborah some more, and I bring her the copy of Eat Pray Love that I had just finished reading (Momma Sue mailed it to me in Florida, so I’d been reading it while I rode all that way. From the title, I didn’t know if I’d like it, but actually it was a pretty good book, and got me laughing out loud in a few places).

In the morning, I slept in and only hit the continental breakfast one time (though I certainly did not hit it lightly…) and we lazed about, snoozing and reading on our tablets till checkout time, when we went and met up with Jesse and Velva for lunch.

More good conversation at the McDonald’s, where literally the only thing I could eat besides coffee and apple pies was a bed of lettuce with two grape tomatoes in top. But booyah, bomb diggity, cause I happen to love salad. I just think Jesse was worried I’d gotten enough to eat (she hadn’t witnessed the breakfast buffet massacre of nine o’clock).

After lunch, Stink and I headed over to the Mad Butcher (small town grocery stores get all the coolest names) and stocked up on beans and such. Out back, as in in the dumpster, I found a couple bell peppers, potatoes, and some apples. The dumpster divings in these parts have been slim pickings as it’s so hot and things can get a little nasty out there… so I was pleased with my finds.

We rode on and finished up in Pine Bluff that day; a town of over 40,000 people. We stopped at a couple different McDonald’s but they didn’t have outlets so we left without getting anything or loitering.

I was kinda zonkered from riding in the heat, so wasn’t much help in the decision making department, but eventually Stink got us headed to  large park where we might find a place to sneaky camp. We got there and all along the road going through, it was nuts. We had pulled into a baseball stadium area and watched gangsters on horses charging through the park. Dudes shredded though on street bikes and Harleys. There was constant traffic in and out of the place. Stink went on a scouting mission and experienced more insanity even deeper in the park. Then we realized, duh, it was labor day weekend (though, I kinda think that park is probably always that nuts).

fantastic sunset though!

We ended up just going to a less noticeable baseball stadium and pitching the tent out behind it. It was so hot, we were sweating bullets laying there. At least there weren’t bugs in the tent though (I mean after we went on a rampage and slayed the seven or eighth mosquitoes that dared to enter our realm). Eventually we were able to get to sleep through, and woke rested, mostly.

We rolled to a McDonald’s for coffee sneaky breakfast loiter, and it was one of those fancy ones with touch screen videogames at some tables. We just happened to be seated at one, and so were soon absorbed in all sorts of intense gaming. Only one cup of coffee got spilt! (See how I twisted that to sound awesome?)

Eventually we did leave though, and made our way towards Little Rock. We kinda did like 40 something miles without stopping, so when we did stop at a small mart I kinda got a little light headed and had to sit down. I had asked the cashier lady if I could use the restroom when I went in, but she said no. When I was sitting at the table I asked if customers could use it, and she said no again… and that I couldn’t sit at that table for more than five minutes if I wasn’t eating. Outside, Stink wasn’t faring much better as a group of guys were hitting on her (“You can come stay a night at my house, I’ve got a treadmill” is not exactly the best pickup line).

So, uh, needless to say, we moved on. Anyways, we were only about six miles out from Little Rock at this point. I had been in contact with my cousin (or maybe she’s more considered my aunt) Morning Star recently about going to the Little Rock Central High School National Historic Site. (My great uncle Roy was married to Minnijean Brown Trickey, who was one of the Little Rock Nine, and they are Morning Star’s and Spirit’s (my other cousin) parents). My family tree is confusing. I just roll with it.

Minnijean gives us a salute

Anyways, Spirit used to work at the museum too, so Star called her up, and got us contact info for Jodi, one of ladies who works there. I had called up Jodi and we were gunna join up with a tour the next morning, but since we kicked butt and scooted our miles in real fast that day, we let her know that we’d be in the same day.

When we got there, everyone was real nice, and Jodi came out and talked with us, then gave Stink and I a private tour of the exhibits and the surrounding areas and through the school itself as well. I was really really impressed with the bravery of the Little Rock Nine, and with all the information Jodi was giving us, and learning about my great aunt, and with the whole atmosphere of the place and of the students still milling around, like it was well aware of the pivotal part in history it played. It’s hard to describe, but that scene of such outright racism and violence, yielded to such bravery and courage standing up for what’s right, you could just feel it. It was really moving, many times I cropped up goosebumps at the things Jodi was telling us about.

I guess the feeling I was getting was just a hopeful feeling for the future. In the way we were able to move on through such blatant racism of the age of segregation and “separate but equal”. I feel hopeful now too, in the way gay marriage rights have been fought for and won. And who knows what the next battle for equality will be (and many are still being fought now), but I’m reassured that we the people will come out for the better on the other side.

So, yes, I may have spent hours more going through the exhibits after Jodi left, but I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my time. Eventually though, the place did need to close, so we scooted on through Little Rock with much food for thought.

We scooted out to a Warm Showers host Stink had hooked us up with, and, like all Warm Showers hosts, they lived at the top of a series of increasingly steep hills. Our host, Mac was home, and quickly showed us the showers. That out of the way, we were given free roam and leisure time to lay about and read and procrastinate writing a blug post…

Eventually Mac’s wife, Amelia, and their friend who was staying with them, Avery, both came home. They cooked up a couple pepperoni pizzas, and I chopped up and roasted my potatoes, bell peppers, and a couple carrots I had stashed away. We all sat downstairs and watched the Serena v.s. Venus match (possibly the first time Stink and I had ever sat and watched an entire tennis match). After the game was won (Serena, though it was pretty close), both Stink and I drifted off to bed, quite zonkered once again.

In the morning, we had free reign till we had to leave at eleven to head towards the airport to meet up with Stink’s fa, who has flown out to ride with us for a week. I slept in till 9:30 though, and barely had any time to get a good morning loiter in. We made up a cardboard sign for “Ice Cube” (his way cool super hip nickname) and took off through the hilly streets of Little Rock at eleven to reunite BMX Club after four months of separation.

We arrived at the airport with an hour to kill, so after backtracking from the front doors to ditch our pocket knives at the bikes (I don’t wanna go to jail!), we sat by a Starbucks and sipped coffees, while a player piano directly behind Stink dueled with the p.a. system music playing throughout the airport. She had to put headphone in.

When it hit one o’clock we went up to the gates to meet our much awaited tour guest: Stink Fa.

A joyous reunion indeed, dear readers. Group hugs complete, we headed down to baggage claim to pick up Stink Fa’s bike and another box full of goodies and such.

After much anticipation, the huge box shoot off a side ramp, and we quickly dragged it through the little Little Rock airport and began assembly.

this how you make a giant bike a tiny bike

The extra box was opened up as well, and we snacked and read letters and played bikes for two hours, building up the bike in record time. The cops only came by once, and Stink refrained from using our phrase for when we spread our junk everywhere, “blow up the place”…

…but we totally blew up the place

Stink Fa loaded up his scoot, and we packed up the our goodies as well, after making a large dent in the snack collection. We rode off and onto this great bike path, attracting lots of attention with our super cool awesome hip bike gang. The bike path took us out of Little Rock and was nice and smooth. The weather even let us off the heat hook in honor of Stink Fa’s arrival.

Ready to rolllll

After getting back on the main road, we stopped at a Kum & Go gas station for our first three-man loiter, and Stink Fa did it with style and the grace of a seasoned cycletourist veteran; and that means slushies. After this, we stopped at a Wal-Mart and loaded up on such delicacies as wasabi peas, peanut butter honey crackers, and chili lime chips. Also more sustainable foods, as in the ingredients to make spaghetti for dinner.

We loitered it up outside for a bit, and once again like an old pro, Stink Fa mastered the art of sitting on the sidewalk, snacking on snackables, and loving on Beef.

bmx clubbb

We head out eventually, stopping at a church a bit later and asking the folks outside if they were cool with us camping on the property. Once we got the go ahead and filled our bottles inside before they locked up, we laid claim to a covered entrance area on the side of the building and began cooking up a mean batch of spaghetti.

After chow town, we set up our sleeping arrangements, Stink Fa gets the place of honor in the tent, and Stink & I free style it on the porch. Once complete, we walked down the road to a gas station and get in a nice late night snack/loiter consisting of a slushie, milkshake, and fritos honey bbq flavour twists. Job well done, we walked home and went to bed. Not necessarily to sleep, as I could hear Stink snacking and goofing around, and I was up till two chronicling this tale.

Pack up in the morning was done with speed and grace, and we soon made our ways over to the gas station, where we found a kitty! Stink Fa got him a tin kitty food while we munched our oatmeals and slurped hot coffee. He named him Pumpkin Spice in a nod to the coffee selection inside, but unfortunately we were unable to actually bring lil Pumpkin Spice with us for the rest of tour.

We rolled out, and straight up did forty miles without stopping till we reached this here McDonald’s we’re currently at. Poor Stink Fa. He do super awesome though, and powered along right with us.

So, that’s that.

-Elizabeth Trickey, Queen of England

Palms grow where people have planted them

Well, well, well. Now that we’re half way through and are officially heading west for good we can say with pleasure that we’re finally on our way home. There are a few things I’m looking forward to, mainly sitting in bed with my dog, a good book, and a big ol’ mug of momma’s coffee listening to the rain outside. But before all that, we’ve got some work to do. We are nearing Oklahoma where we will spend a couple of days in Tulsa visiting Lizzy’s extended family. My daddy is flying out to Little Rock next week to ride with us for a few days. We still have the beautiful desert to cross, the Grand Canyon, Death Valley, and a visit with my fambam in California. Still, it feels good to know that every stroke forward is a stroke closer to home.

It was hot in Dothan, AL, so we stayed in the library for as long as we could–we’ve become those people who sleep in libraries. We did an interview with the paper and eventually left, plugging away into the miserable heat. The road was fairly nice though, so we were able to make good time. That night we found a great place to sleep at a baptist church in town near a laundromat. We both slept so well that there is nothing much to say about it.

In the morning, we rode out to a gas station for the normal routine of coffee/breakfast/bathroom. A man there though we we homeless and offered to buy us breakfast. It was very sweet of him and we got an opportunity to talk about Watsi, and also made mental notes that it is time to ‘clean up the house.’ Sometimes the bikes get, well, a little sloppy. This is especially true if it has been raining since we employ some highly advanced technology to cover our gear…mainly old shopping bags.

We made it to the Gator State

We made it to Florida that morning and I was kind of surprised at how different it was than I expected. I think that in my mind all of Florida is like the Everglades, and I think I expected to cross the state line and find myself knee deep in a gator swamp, but this is not the case. Northern Florida is just like Southern Georgia and Alabama: light pine groves, cows, and dead armadillos. It was getting steadily flatter, and we knew that we were close to the beach, so we ended up riding 81 miles to Shalimar, FL. We hadn’t really intended to go that far, but it was a lovely, cool evening, and we both felt like it. To top it off, I finally was able to find the NPR frequency on my little FM radio and I was listening to an interview with a man who has a successful cricket farm in California. He and his business partner are trying to introduce cricket powder (a complete protein) into the northwest whole foods market. I have some friends who were toying with this idea as a future project in Papa New Guinea, so I was excited to tell them about it. (I forgot to, so this is me telling you Mary)

To celebrate our miles, we made the decision to eat Mexican food and we found a great little restaurant and porked out. The staff was very interested in what we were doing and gave me a fantastic “Pepper’s Grill” pen that I have been using every day in my journal. As we were leaving, we spotted a church across the street that still had cars in the parking lot. We rode over hoping to find a pastor and ask permission to camp out in their property. We did find the ministers who gave us both permission to camp in their open air courtyard, and use the shower. That night however, our beauty rest was interrupted by a very drunk man who stumbled into the church grounds and wanted to talk about the bikes. When he finally realized that we were trying to sleep, he trundled away. Of course, I couldn’t really get into a deep sleep after that because I kept thinking he was coming back. Eventually I drifted off, only to be reawakened by the sound that sends dread into all cyclotourists: sprinklers. There is absolutely nothing that gets me out of bed quicker than the sound of a sprinkler and the threat of being soaked by freezing water at 4 in the morning. Fortunately, neither of us got wet.

The beach at Navarre

We decided to take a leisurely morning since we were a tad ahead of schedule for our post office pick up, and because we deserved it, and because there was a Starbucks down the street, and because we wanted to enjoy the Navarre beach. So, we stopped at the St. Arbucks to get fancy coffees, and we went across the street to the Winn Dixie. I didn’t know that Winn Dixie was a real store, so that was kind of fun. Lizzy did a phone interview and I did a whole lot of something. Oh. Map stuff.

It was hot and windy, but flat. We kept a speedy clip as we rode out of town, through the airbase, and out to Navarre. We did an interview at the Walmart and headed toward the water. The beach wasn’t really what I was expecting, which is not to say that I didn’t like it, or thought it wasn’t beautiful because it was absolutely beautiful, and so bright I was getting a headache even with my swamp hat and sunglasses.It just was too sterile in my mind. Unlike the frothy, chilly, violent waves of the Pacific, the Gulf waves were lappy and lazy. The water was so clear we could see the hairs of our toes when we were neck deep in it. There weren’t big berms of dead, washed up kelp on the beach either. The white sands were devoid of much of the debris of the coast at home: no hunks of driftwood, no wads of shells, no dead seagull skeletons, no charcoal. We swam in it for quite a bit and then retired to the bikes to eat more snacks and let our clothes dry. I took some time to walk around and take pictures and got zapped by a jellyfish.

We left and rode out to Gulf Breeze, a bridge away from Pensacola, and made it to the post office before closing. Unfortunately, not all of the packages were there, but we figured we could come back in the morning as we were staying in Pensacola that night. The post master thought the we were rock stars because we had so much mail. We got so many letters, cookies from momma Sue, drawings from Lizzie’s cousins, and a hammock from the McMinnville Master Gardeners. Thanks all!

The seagulls are a bit different too. They’re pretty cute

We had an interview at the post office, and then went inside and made a big mess opening the above aforementioned parcels. From there we had a nice ride to downtown Pensacola to the First United Methodist Church who agreed to host us that night. Jeb, the host, met us, handed me the key to the youth building, told us the kitchen was ours and left. It was awesome! I had grand plans of falling asleep at 6 since I was so tired, but there were unlimited possibilities to use the time and space we were given. For one, there was a piano. For two, there was a kitchen. For three, I finally had time to call some of my friends who I’d promised to call weeks ago. And there was both space to reorganize all the junk on the bikes, and plenty of comfy sitting places for reading and writing. I made myself some dinner and went out onto the deck to call home and go for a walk. Lizzy took some time to write post cards and make burritos.

Mail Goodies! thanks everyone

I went upstairs to pick a room to sleep in, sat down on a couch to try it out, and immediately fell asleep. Immediately is no hyperbole. I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired except for when I was doing missions in Mexico. When I woke up I couldn’t remember falling asleep.

Lizzy wasn’t up yet, so I decided to get some good coffee to drink while doing devotions and journaling. I walked to a coffee place that was both farther, and more expensive than anticipated, but soooooo worth it! Sipping good coffee and walking around downtown (that reminded me so much of California it was uncanny) I had a great morning.

We packed up and decided to take another lazy morning, neither of us looking forward to backtracking to the post office. It wasn’t that bad though. Really, it was a great ride across the bay. The water was beautiful, the road had a decent shoulder, and we didn’t really have that far to go. When we got to the post office, I was disappointed but not surprised to find that the package from Aunt Jenny hadn’t made it. We went to the air-conditioned grocery store across the street and I moped around a bit and made a quick trip to Tuesday Morning next door (mostly because my roommate who is from Texas and has impeccable taste in home furnishings swears by it.)

A burnt Ginger hides from the sun

We rode out, following the beach, trying not to die in the 100 degree heat. I got the joy of calling my sister-friend Mary and we got a good laugh at how she was behind a McDonald’s using free wifi to Internet call me, while I was biking along the beach, thousands of miles from her. Technology.

We spotted a Target and sped toward it knowing the caliber of air-conditioning inside its metal slab walls. Even riding past the sliding doors we could feel the cool air rushing out to greet us. In we went for a good, long loiter, disguised as a shopping trip.

When we left Target, I didn’t realize that I left my sunglasses and my headphones behind. I think we have all heard this story before. Sigh. We made it to another beach and went swimming. I kind of laughed at the silliness of the resorts on either side of the 100 foot strip of public beach. They had placed “private beach, no entry” signs in the sand. I had wished that I’d remembered to buy goggles at the store since this beach had an alleged coral reef offshore, but it was all good. We swam around for a while and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

We left from there back into Alabama along a straight, flat strip of highway that followed the beach and was strewn with high-end and expensive resorts. The sun was setting and the effect made us feel like we were in a quiet sort of Vegas. We made a stop at a Winn Dixie to get something for dinner and to try and figure out where we were going to sleep for the night. Only to find out that the Winn Dixie deli sells their old hot foods for 50 cents a pound, so we loaded up on starchy, less than fresh goodness and ate it up on the curb.

Moonscape Beach

I found a church on Google that was about two miles away so we flipped on our lights–including the fun and flashy wheel lights courtesy of Donna–and peddled off. The church was not a traditional church since we were in resort land, but was a swanky kind of multi-level place with beach access. We left our bikes under the stairwell and tried to sleep on the beach. Tried and tried and tried. It was the worst night I’d tried to sleep since the West Yellowstone fiasco.

It happened to be a full moon, and we were right next to a fancy, party style resort. Tourists kept walking the beach in front of where we were trying to sleep, catching sand crabs and screaming and holding hands and being beach bums. Worse than that was the combination of sticky, salty, itchy sand, and sand fleas. I could feel them crawling all over me. It was awful. I was also a bit paranoid because I thought we were going to get kicked out of there. When your not trying to sleep in such a situation, it is easy to say, “so what if someone kicks you out, then you just go elsewhere.” But for some reason it keeps me up thinking that someone might just come bust us. I also had tummy grumbly from the old deli meal I ate for dinner. Eventually, I stumbled over to an abandoned floaty thing and curled up on it, in the sand, under a beach church canopy, trying to hide in the shade from the bright moon, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

It was nice being up early in the morning even if my eyes were burning from lack of sleep. We rode out through some national seashore and a bird sanctuary state park. Both were wonderful. Though the moon does not have water or grass, I imagine that if the moon had a beach, it would be like that beach. We found a McDonalds and had a good loiter / attempted recovery from the previous night. I was surprised to find that my Uncle Dean had given me an audio book credit and downloaded the 20 hour, first volume of James McPhereson’s Battle Cry of Freedom (I tried to find a good copy of Don Quixote at first but ended up with McPhereson). Thanks again Kim clan!

From there, we made for the Dauphin Island ferry, traveling through a national mouse sanctuary and historic Ft. Morgan. The ferry only cost 5 dollars, much less than I was expecting. A woman at the post office had given me money for lunch, we put it on the ferry instead. We made it to Dauphin Island in one piece, 30 minutes later. I was able to book a warmshowers host last minute, so we were excited about the possibility of sleep that night. It was that which motivated us across Dauphin. Unfortunately, I was lost in the music of Beautiful Eulogy and distracted by the sight of a BBQ building that was on fire and missed our turn to the bridge off the island. So, we ended up riding WAY out of the way. I was not happy about that.

After an about turn and some internal battling (I was very emotionally unstable due to my overwhelming exhaustion), I found the turn we’d missed and headed to the mainland. It was so incredibly hot. After a good 20 miles we stopped at a McDonalds to bask in the air-conditioning and have an impromptu Skype call with my dog (and more importantly my momma). I double checked coordinates to our hosts, and we headed out again. Of course, I missed some turns increasing my count of 40 mistake miles to about 50. (I don’t know that Lizzie knew that) We made it to our hosts, Kim and Ric and their children Lydia, Lilly, and Liam, well before dark and were met with a buzz of excitement and dog kisses. It was lovely. Kim and Ric are both educators, and true to the trend of teachers we have met along the way, were wonderful and interesting folks. Kim and Ric have hosted over a hundred cyclotourists through warmshowers, something I found remarkable.

We got to take showers, and do laundry. Both were much needed after long travels in the heat and after swimming in the same clothes that we’d been sleeping and cycling in for days. Not good. My shorts were stiff with salt. Not long after, Kim received a phone call from a friend whose husband was involved in a car accident on the interstate not far from the Jordan’s home. Lizzie stayed with the kiddos while I went with Kim to check on her friend’s husband and children who were involved in the accident.

We drove West into Mississippi, and then turned around the other direction until we found them. Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt. Another car had run the family off the road and they had hit a ditch hard enough to deploy the airbags. After the kiddos were transferred to their mom’s car, Kim made sure there was nothing else we could do, and we drove back to the house. By that time, Ric had made it home, thinking for a short while that it was Kim and their kids who were in the accident. When we got to the house, Lizzie was in the living room with the kiddos watching terrible Katy Perry music videos. Gag. It was not her choice.

There seems to be a state sign music rivalry between MS and TN

We were supposed to sleep outside that night, but Ric said that if it got too terribly buggy that I could come inside and crash on the couch. I tried to hammock it, but between the heat, the bugs, the sound of the speedway down the street, the neighbor’s dog that barked at me every time I moved, and the dog and kitten that insisted on joining me in the hammock, I could not sleep. Since I hadn’t slept the night before either, I decided that awkward though it might be, I would stumble into the house at 12:30 and crash the couch. It was a good decision.

When I woke up the next morning, I looked outside and I didn’t see Lizzy, the tent, or her bike. I was a little bit concerned, but when I finally got the gumption to go out into the heat and look for her, I found her sitting in the shade behind the house eating munchie mix. I hadn’t really thought to invite her into the air conditioning the night before—maybe that was a little selfish. Poor lizzbit didn’t realize she could come into the house.

Kim and Ric and all the kids were getting ready for church but managed to make us a great breakfast and some really delicious coffee. We were invited to go to church, but chose to hit the road at the heat was steadily rising. We had a couple cups more coffee, and then were off.

We made it into Mississippi and then to a town large enough to host—you guessed it—a McDonald’s. We needed to cool off and catch up on some admin. responsibilities. Trying to beat the heat, we decided to leave with only just enough light to get to the church we’d found to stay at, but we kind of took our time packing up.

When we left, I started Battle Cry of Freedom and was deeply engrossed in a summary of the socioeconomic fabric of mid-19th century America when a large and intimidating man pulled over and indicated that he wanted to talk. When I saw Lizzie had pulled over, I turned around to chat too. His name was Woody, and he was extremely nice, politely interested in what we were doing, and insistent that he give us some cash for the road. We explained that we didn’t need money and gave him some Watsi information. After making totally sure we weren’t in need of anything, he prayed over us and warned us not to pick up any snakes that we find in the area. I assured him that I wouldn’t.

Blury morning

We rode off into the buggy evening, over a swampy river area (still no gators) and eventually found a church with perfect sneaky camping possibilities. A quick supper of Margret Holmes’ Hoppin’ John and frozen veggies later, we each were ready for bed. It has been getting darker much earlier now, so I had plenty of time to set up the tent that night. I also had plenty of time to use the emergency Fabreeze mom and Lillian had sent me on every inch of the tent and my sleeping mat as it was beginning to smell like a combination of sweaty feet and mozzarella cheese. I don’t know why, but every time I smelled my mat I was reminded of how my mom used to snack on cheese sticks in the car. She would leave the cheese sticks on the dash until they were oozy before eating them and it used to thoroughly gross me out when I was a kid.

In the morning, we packed up and headed out—noting that the sunrise was behind us, not ahead of us as it has been for the past 3.5 months! We stopped at a little gas station for the morning routine and Lizzie found some ducks to feed. It started out as a good day, and it has continued to be a good one. Mississipians are kindly folks and have some great boiled peanuts. Even so, we’re looking forward to that Luisiana line…then Arkansas, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Arizona, Navada, California….. and OREGON! (that litst’s a gettn’ shorter)

okay, so normally it’s both …

Okay, so, Stink left off in Fall Branch, TN, in a nice pavilion, that we had immediately exploded with all of our junk. Pots, pans, clothes, rats; you name it, we had it strewn about.

I had stayed up kinda late eating munchie mix and reading Tom Sawyer, so we snoozed it a bit in the morning. We as in me. As in I am in charge of setting the alarm on my phone each night, and, subsequently, in charge of giving it a few good snoozes each morning. And to think you all thought I did nothing to help out!!

That morning we took our time packing up, and lazed about boiling up some water for oatmeal and tea, and lounged around reading. We finished getting ready to go only once it was good and boiling hot out.

welcome to lounge town

Stink was having a less than awesome day that day, as her rear derailluer was seriously considering giving up (it had been on the outs since Cleveland, OH). It was decided that we needed a nice, long, air-conditioned loiter at a Wal-Mart that would only be like a half mile out of our way.

This was an excellent decision. I’m sure we patted ourselves on the back for it. We do that a lot. Especially for decisions involving sitting, or eating lots of snacks. Gotta stay motivated somehow.

After stepping inside the blissful AC warehouse of cheap goods, I remembered that I’d forgotten my water bottle outside (I make a point of carrying it everywhere with me, so that I can mindlessly gulp and stay hydrated). When I turned the corner outside to get to the shady spot the bikes were resting in, I was startled to see a gang of gingers giving our scoots the stare down.

The mom and her two sons explained that they were road cyclists, and were checking out all the gear on our bikes. I introduced them to Denali, and they were pleased, offering up that they had raised orphaned possums and raccoons in the past. That certainly won my admiration. If you feel like falling in love with possums, please watch this old OPB segment on them… and also get some great early 90’s fashion flashbacks. http://www.opb.org/television/programs/ofg/segment/possums/
You will never look into their dumb crossed eyed the same way. Also, Master Gardener tid-bit, I learned in class that they eat mulch. Okay, that’s probably enough about possums…

There was a McDonald’s inside of the Wal-Mart (double loiter jack-pot!), so, naturally, we sat and got some coffee. The gal behind the counter had a particularly embellished way of doing loop-de-loops with her hands as she pressed the necessary buttons on the screen in front of her; like conducting a cartoon orchestra or something.

ANYWAYS, we sat, drank coffee, and one of us, not gunna say who, cooled off built up steam from having to cycle through the heat with an increasingly busted derailleur…

Eventually we pulled ourselves away, and got back on the road. Mountains loomed up ahead of us, and in my head, I hopefully thought that, perhaps, just maybe, we’d take a turn and just skirt alongside them instead of charging straight towards the overgrown peaks as we seemed to be doing. Turns out, sometimes I give myself false hope. Oh well. We charged into the mountains.

It wasn’t actually that bad though, as we’re quite used to riding steep terrain at this point. It was less than nice for Stink though, as her chain dragged low to the ground, and refused to comply with orders, sometimes causing her to have to walk her scoot up hills.

jonathan, the one legged tourist.
kidding.

At one point, right after I had finished mulling over the fact that we hadn’t seen any fellow tourists on the road since New Hampshire, and that we probably wouldn’t see another for a long time as we were firmly out in the boon doggies, a tourist rolls into view on the other side of the road. Of course.

Turns out, his name was Jonathan, he was sort of in a state of perma-tour (having spent the last three years on a bike, only returning home to his land outside Nashville during the winters), and had a semi-completed full-size long bow strapped up to the top tube of his bike… this guy was the real deal. He also even had peanut butter (okay, he corrected that it was sunflower seed butter) stuck into his water bottle cage. Now, that’s our kind of tour style!

We chatted for a bit about dumpster diving hot spots, sneaky camp tips, and the usual, then turned and rolled off in our separate directions, but not after he told us we’d have more some gnarly climbs before getting to Asheville, NC the next day. Thanks a lot. Everyone allllways has to tell us about the hills.

superstars

by the way, this is how I take all our state sign photos. super casual mode.

We scooted on, crossed into North Carolina at some point, and stopped at a church on top of a very steep (I mean it) hill in Marshall, NC for the night.

Stink called the pastor’s number (which was quite helpfully taped to the front door) and got permission to sleep under their overhang for the night. A few minutes later, she accidentally stumbled upon their hide-a-key (I shouldn’t say where…). I had just returned from trying to fill my empty bottles at the spigot on the other side of the building. That did not go well for me…. White chunks literally came spewing out of the faucet, along with the stench of rotten eggs. NO THANKS.

I summed up the courage to call the pastor back, let him know we found the hide-a-key, and ask if I could go inside and fill my water. He one upped me, and offered the use of the shower at the end of the hallway as well. We then took it as a given that we could use the kitchen to cook our dinners as well, and made ourselves quite at home in this dark empty church high in the boonies of North Carolina. (I want add here that my boy Timmy sent me a box of vegan mac and cheese in a care package back in Erie, PA, and I only just cooked it up that night. The box was a little worse for wear, but damn, if that wasn’t good vegan mac and cheese… something about carrying your food for thousands of miles…)

In the morning, we knew we needed to get to a bike shop in Asheville, and also hoped to meet up with my cousin Daniel who lived just a few short hours away (by car!). We took our time using (but not abusing!) the kitchen and preparing our breakfasts. Finally we got back on the bikes, and slammed on the breaks to safely get back down the insaneo hill without busting our noggins out.

We had, as Jonathan so kindly warned us, many more hills to climb over in order to reach Asheville. Stink’s derailleur was even less than cooperative and many long ascents had to be walked up. This worked fine for me though, as I could just scoot up to the top and have a sit and read my book… this perhaps did not help abate Stink’s rising frustrations with her bike… Oops. 😀

But yes! Finally we did reach Asheville (after spending some time hunting down unmarked roads and climbing steep city streets) and rolled up to the bike shop. Only then did I notice that their name, Billy Goat Bikes, was somewhat insinuative of the types of bikes and parts we’d find there.

Sure enough, it was purely a mountain bike shop. Stink was… less than pleased. A different shop was located, and we scooted out in their direction. Miles later, we found ourselves rolling through a super hip section of Asheville, to Epic Cycles West, where Stink forked over the cash for both the necessary new parts and the labor (shocker! This was the first time anyone other than herself had worked on her bike! Good decision though, because tying up the bike in some tree and attempting to do these repairs would have probably been a total pain in the ass. We already have enough of that.)

So, she unloaded her baggage, threw the Hunq up on the stand, and went upstairs to this cush coffee shop for hours. I felt out of place in my swamp suit (as I’ve deemed my stinky stained everyday riding clothing), but soon couldn’t give a rat’s ass, as I sunk into a comfy seat, sipped good, real, non-McDonald’s coffee, and savored a small piece of vegan fudge. We sat about, writing, reading, and relaxing till around four when Stink’s bike was all done.

rando image to break up huge block of text!

Unfortunately, my cousin was tied up with work, and couldn’t make it out our way, so we scooted on. It started raining as we were getting out of town, and as we stopped on the side of the road to pull on rain coats, I sent out ‘adopt us!’ brain signals to the passing cars.

It didn’t work.

We rolled on a bit further and stopped at an Ingles (not “inglés”, as I had originally thought, expecting a giant Mexican grocery store…). While I was out back scoping out the dumpster situation, a gal named Emma came up and started talking with Stink. She had seen us pull in, and wanted to adopt us for the night. IT WORKED!

We stood around for a bit, chatting, and trying to figure out how to get us, and our scoots, to her house, seven miles off. We could ride out there, but it wasn’t really on our route, and we couldn’t decide. Emma offered to have dinner with us across the street at the Earth Fare grocery store (think Whole Foods). We jumped at the offer, giving us more time to mull it over, and more time for Emma, who was brainstorming other options to get us to her home.

She bought our meals for us, delicious hot meals from the deli area, and we all sat outside and ate together, us telling about our adventure, and Emma telling about her recent hitchhiking trip she had gone on, working at community houses along the way.

We finished eating, and Emma needed to head out, as she was going contra dancing with a friend that evening. We exchanged contact info in case we decided to ride out to her house, and said our goodbyes.

We mulled it over a bit longer, then decided to go grocery shopping, and had an extreme case of the munchies (right after having a really delicious meal too! What’s with you body???) We shopped a bit at Earthfare, snacked, then headed back to the Ingles, shopped some more, and continued snacking till it was well past sunset.

We finally dragged our overfilled guts back on the bikes, and rode on, having decided to just camp out at a church or something on our route.

Just as it began raining, we spotted one in Skyland, NC and pulled up into it’s parking lot. There was a house there as well, that we thought might be the pastor’s house, but it was 9:30 and we didn’t want to be rude knocking that time of night. We rode around the church buildings, looking for a nice dry spot to sleep, when I saw someone heading out of the house to sit and relax under the carport, so we tentatively rolled up, and asked the lady if she was with the church, and turns out, no, just rents the property, but didn’t see any reason why we couldn’t sleep there over night. That was enough permission for us, and we thanked her around rolled over to a dry stoop.

We parked our bikes under one small overhang, and laid ourselves out head to toe, under the other (it was about 11’x3′ of dry space, so we fit, just barely). We goobered around, to sleepy to sleep, looking at dumb pictures online and sending out dumb text messages to folks at home, before finally falling into dreamland.

In the morning we headed out to a McDonald’s eight or so miles down the road, got our loiter on. We talked with a few different folks about the trip and about Watsi, and one fella insisted we take some dollars for snack money (thank you!!). There was also a crazy guy there (like actually crazy), who kept coming over to talk with us. Unfortunately we couldn’t understand a word he said… actually, I’m not sure if he was nuts, or just had the thickest southern accent we had yet to encounter. The really nice gal behind the counter kept mouthing to Stink ask see if we were okay though, so that might be an indication of  the former.

We left McDonald’s to go a few more miles to the post office in Mountain Home, NC, where we had mail sent.

oops, eating the wrong thing.

My pal Steveo had sent a letter, that turned out to be a letter PLUS a big ol’ bag of homemade caramel corn! Steveo is known for her excellent popcorning skills, and we couldn’t resist getting our munch on, right in the lobby. Thanks Steve, you dog.

Stink’s ma had sent us a ‘hygiene package’. Sooomebody tattled on my swamp shorts, it seems, as there were shorts, unders, socks, soaps, deodorants, detergents, and snacks, lovely yummy snacks.

I immediately threw my new swamp shorts on, continued eating caramel corn, and began pondering upon how I was going to get all this on my scoot. To make things easier, I ate all the popcorn. Just kidding, I ate it all because I just couldn’t stop. Win-win.

oops, I put them on top of my swamp shorts.

Eventually we had the bikes all packed up and we once more ready to roll. At the McDonald’s, we had been warn of some ‘hellacious downhills’ which just had us pretty excited at the prospect of easy miles, not fearing the deadly curves as they were trying to do.

bring on the down hills, we ready for this.

Right as we entered South Carolina, the descent began, and it was lovely. No pedalling, and no brakes for that matter, for ages. It was through a lovely forested area, a watershed actually, and there was little traffic to be seen.

it was nice.

so nice that you get two pictures of it.

You can see a video clip of it off my instagrub here: https://instagram.com/p/6lpRSWFO5y/?taken-by=lizzy.trickey

Eventually the land levelled out, as in it got hilly, and we had to get back to ‘work’. Soon, we were caught in the midst of a downpour, and were completely  soaked with warm rain. We stopped at a gas station in the middle of bum-truck nowhere to do some loitering. They had excellent ice cream cone rates that Stink took advantage of, and I found a horrible packaged food product that I could eat (it’s called an Apple Ugly, and is like some sort of log of glazed doughnutty bad choices). We sat on the rocking chairs out front, munching, till we decided to go back inside and get french fries and coffee to top it off. And maybe another ice cream.

There was good tv out on the front porch, as in we got to watch a fella pull up in his heavily smoking pick-up-truck, and hop out and kick the bumper. A group of hick boys, that were also loitering on the porch, came to the rescue as they all huddled together over the still smoking engine and fixed up the buster radiator hose. Once the tv program was over, we hopped back on the bikes and rolled out.

We got a few miles down the road when we were flagged down by a man as we rode past. We pulled up and he came over to start talking with us, and boy, was he a character. I think he said he went by the name Fly Rod, though his real name was Thomas Jefferson. He had a bear-paw pouch hanging off his belt, and was drinking straight honey from a gatorade bottle in an orange coozie. He talked a mile a minute and called up his son in Alaska to see if he lived near Denali, after hearing about my rat. He was offering us a place to stay, but I’m not sure we would’ve had enough energy for the kind of party we’d be walking in to. Also, we had more miles to do that day, so we had an excuse. I’m sure a night at Fly Rod’s would’ve been a grand time, just not exactly… relaxing.

We rolled on with the goal of arriving in Pickens that evening, which had a McDonald’s! We stopped there and got our loiter on. It had these crazy touch response LED tables, and videogame stations at some tables too. We got really caught up in some stupid puzzle games, then time slipped and it was night and we were in need of sleep. We headed to the church across the street to a dry stoop, which was well enough, because immediately after settling, the sky opened up and dumped buckets.

In the morning, we (obviously) went back to McDonald’s. We got an email from the gal who sorta gave us permission to camp at the church south of Asheville, saying she figured we were up to something big, and spent probably a good deal of time tracking us down on the internet using such search terms as “august 17 2015 blog bike camp church rain,” and actually found us! I admire your perseverance Patty!

Outside the McDonald’s, as I was digging around in my bag, a gal running called over and asked what were up to. She was a long distance hiker, and offered us her home and all sorts of hospitality just blocked away. This was just, devastating, as we had yet to do any miles for the day and we just knew we had to keep going. She even came back by on her return loop to offer once more. The hardest decision of my life.

We really had to keep going as we had had some short mileage days recently, what with a broken derailleur and such, so, very reluctantly, we rolled on.

mm, frozen sugar water.

It was hot as hell out that day, and we stopped at a  QuikTrip (a favorite gas station of mine from my Oklahoma days) for lunch. I got a giant icee-freezie-slushy-drink-thing, and we munched our lunch in the limited shade before moving on. It’s cooler to keep going because you at least generate some wind chill.

Soon enough though, it was thundering and lightning in the distance, and then pouring down upon us. We crossed into Georgia at some point in this deluge, and I had to rig up a way to take our obligatory new state photo without getting my camera completely drenched.

…you may not be able to tell, but it’s cats and dogs out there

Once the thunderous booms got a little too close to comfort, we stopped in at the Savannah River Dam visitors center, and froze our butts off as the AC blasted our sodden clothes. We didn’t stick around long.

rain, rain, go away…

We ended up in Hartwell, GA that evening. There was a Wal-Mart right at the beginning of town and a big ol’ church right across from it. We went to the church office first to see if we could camp out somewhere, and were then offered hospitality above and beyond our request by Todd, the youth minister; we could shower there, they’d be having a potluck dinner later that we were invited to, and a lady named Cindy offered to take us home for a good night’s rest that evening.

After dinner and such, we locked our bikes up in the office and rode (in a car!) to Cindy’s, and met her husband, David, and their ancient Yorkshire terrier, Bridget. We got to sleep in the grandkid’s princess room, complete with an ultimate collection of disney vhs tapes and a full sized panda stuffed animal. We slept like babies.

Stink wasn’t super pleased when I woke her in the morning with the giant panda, but soon enough we were downstairs, ready to go. Cindy took us back to church, getting breakfast from Bojangle’s on the way, where we all soon got to work helping out with distributing food pantry goods to a long line of cars winding around the church that morning. It was good to be able to help out, and give back a bit, since we always seem to be on the getting end of everyone’s generosity.

gettin to work

After the line of folks was all gone, we helped clean up, and then went with Cindy to the office, met with Todd again and put on the ultimate show of cramming all our junk back into our already bulging saddlebags, and letting Beefy run around the windowsills.

Finally, we were ready to go, and Todd was getting a goodbye picture of us, when the mailman came by and said he’d heard about our trip and wanted to congratulate us. I have no idea how he knew, but as you may or may not know, I stinkin love the post office, so took the compliment with pride.

We super scooted that day, stopping in Bowman for a moment and chatting with a fella named RJ or something who had a thick curly black mullet and crafted extendo forks and spoons in his spare time.

We stopped later at a McDonald’s in the outskirts of Athens, and once we were ready to leave, it began to rain. We skipped across the road to a Goodwill to wait it out, which turned out to be another excellent choice, as within moments of getting the scoots under cover, the rain dumped. Seriously dumped. The rain out here means business.

Eventually the rain died down and we left (without having purchased that super cool cartoon cowboy print sheet I wanted) and scooted on into the evening till we reached Bishop. There were a couple churches out in the middle of nowhere, and we aimed to camp at them. By this time it was night, and the area we picked to camp at was a spooky hallway and had an open door leading to a room with a ladder. I got the heebies jeebies and had to go sleep on the front porch in front of the flood lights…

In the morning we rolled to a gas station, got our coffee and oatmeal fix, and as we prepared to leave, the sky once again sprung a leak. So we loitered a big longer, as these storms often blow by quickly, and a lady stopped and asked if she could take my picture. She said I was the spitting image of a friend of hers who lived down the road. I get that all the time, and I’m 98% sure it’s just because of the red hair. Us gingers just look alike. Pale, freckly, and real squinty in the sun.

Anyways, we left, and rode, and I don’t remember what happened (if you’ve noticed the previous days see extra detailed for me, it’s because I bought a cheapo voice recorder with a Wal-Mart gift card my fa sent me, and have lazily been journaling that way. Unfortunately, I’m still not the best at being consistent with it. Ooops).

Uhh, so we ended up in Monticello (pronounced Montisello down here in the south) and did an interview with the paper. It was pretty early in the evening still, so we scoped out a church to crash at. We were both really exhausted (the night at creepy church was not very restful for either of us…) but couldn’t sleep because it was still daylight and cars kept driving through the parking lot we were sitting out in front of. Through frustration of not being to sleep, we just munched and munched and ate all our snacks. Finally we gave up and walked to the grocery store, got wafer cookies (like that would help our situation) and scoped out another church to sleep at. It seemed more secluded, so we giddily went back and got the bikes, scooted back to it, and immediately laid out our sleeping arrangements (Stink hammocking a stairwell, and me crashed on the doormat).

At what seemed like a million o’clock in the morning, the floodlights turned on right above me and Stink hissed something that woke me up. I groggily got up and groped around, trying to pack my bags up because for some reason I thought Stink said we had to move. Moments later, I realized she just was telling me the lights were on, so I just dropped back onto the ground in the blinding light and was immediately zonked out again.

In the morning we went into the town square in search of a coffee shop but everything was still closed because the world hates us or something. We rolled on to an Ingles, and had a lovely time grocery shopping for discounted products, dining on strange things like peanut butter and jelly pita stuffed with cheerios and sipping coffee in the deli seating area, and making sure to stuff our pockets with free jelly packets before we left the store.

We were motivated to bike far and fast that day because we knew Stink’s Auntie Jenny was driving down from Nashville to meet us, AND is ‘allergic’ to camping so would be providing hotel housing for the night. Naturally, we flew.

When we reched the predetermined destination of Thomaston, Aunt Jenny had texted us and said the room was booked and we could check in whenever we arrived. We raced to the hotel and stepped inside the air conditioned lobby, happy enough to just be out of the heat. We got our room keys from the lady at the front desk, who seemed a bit… incredulous that us two sweaty tomato-faced vagabonds were going to be staying in the hotel that night.

Nothing could dampen our spirits though and we heartily gave the continental breakfast room a once over (finding a raisin bran dispense that was the only thing not on lock down, and making sure to take advantage of that and the free coffee in the lobby) before heading to our, thankfully groundfloor, room.

We dragged the bikes in and immediately blew up the place. Snacking, watcing tv, showering, charging, creating a rat play environment, unpacking, and just generally having a grand ol’ time in that sweet sweet blessedly air conditioned air.

About an hour later, Stink’s Aunt Jenny and cousin Willow arrived and we spent a good while chattin it up in our room, before getting ready to go out to dinner. In a restaurant. As in not opening a can of beans on the curb. Bliss.

stink, willow, & swamp

We stopped first at a Mexican joint in town, and all concluded from the storefront that we would most likely contract a serious case of the runs if we even considered stepping inside. We went to Chilli’s.

Which was excellent! We spent more time catching up, eating fried pickles and other various foodstuffs. We eventually left after getting the stink eye from the servers as we chatted over our empty plates for some time after the meal was over. The dinner was a treat from Aunt Jenny as well, who I know is probably reading this, so, like seriously THAAAANK YOU!

We all walked around Wal-Mart for fun (just like we do!) afterwards, then heading back to the hotel. We were spent, and ready for a real night’s sleep, so said our goodbyes and went to bed (obviously with a bit of good ol’ terrible hotel tv entertainment in between).

In the morning, Stink & I got up early to hit the continental breakfast, then came back to the room to veg out, before hitting it again once Jenny and Willow were ready. Let’s just say we got our money’s worth.

Jenn-ayy (say it like Forest Gump, you’ll like it)

After breakfast, we all hung out in our room as we packed and unpacked and bustled around the room for hours, getting ready to go. Aunt Jenny offered to mail home some of our excess stuff for us (maps from previous states, hatchet, ornamentaly decorated wooden box, a bunny rabbit magnet, you know, the us…. Ugh, I have no idea how to spell ‘us’ and in ‘usual’. Dumb.) so we really did an exhaustive repack, and Jenny and Willow were kept entertained with our clown car baggage act.

With five minutes to spare before checkout, we dragged the bikes out the door, and were met with a wall of heat. We loitered about saying goodbye, accidentally blocking our doorway from the housekeeping lady for several minutes as she patiently watched our repeated goodbyes, and pictures, and last minute ice machine usage.

Dragging ourselves away from familiar faces (and a whole entire AC packed room) was hard, but we have to keep going if we’re ever to reach home.

We had an excellent (if not hot) road to travel along that day though, so the miles did go by. Wide shoulders, little traffic, and boon doggie views of rural Georgia were all appreciated.

gaaaaay. the rainbow. as in it’s happy. caption]

We arrived in Ellaville that evening, and stopped at the Pig N Wig (Piggly Wiggly) for frozen veggies, and the check the dumpster, which was (not ) fiercely guarded by a pack of kittens and a momma cat…. Can I keep one?? We also saw our first pomegranate tree, and why didn’t I take a picture of it? Why?

Dinner procured, we rolled to a baptist church that was just letting out, and ran the gauntlet down a crowded hallway, quickly meeting what seemed like whole congregation and answering all the usual tour questions as we were lead to the pastor. They gave us permission to camp out back, and even made a $40 donation towards medical treatment (we’ve applied it to Eric here, and you can help too: https://watsi.org/profile/dce2bc6cef4c-eric )

Once everyone was gone, we sat on the curb outside and prepared to make ‘dinner’ but were swarmed with gnats. Apparently, south Georgia is well-known for it’s generous collection of gnats. We swatted and jigged about, whining about our misfortune all the while, till we remembered that Stink Ma hd sent us bug spray. Duhh. That took care of them well enough…ish.

After dinner we were ready for bed, and decided not to take up the offer of sleeping under the gnat infested pavilion out back, but rather to sleep on the porch of the pre-fab. Stink slung up her hammock and I sat on a bench with Beef, writing up this here blog post well past nightfall. Neither of us could get to sleep very easily, so Stink listened to hours of Harry Potter, and I took a nightwalk to the nearby gas station to use the potty…. then ended up getting cookies. Dang it.

Eventually we both zonked out, and woke in the morning. We returned to the gas station for coffee and hot oatmeal water, and chatted with quite a few friendly local folks. One gal even passed us some monies, “for snacks”. You got it, lady.

We stopped in Preston, GA for lunch, where I invented the peanut butter soy sauce nutritional yeast frozen mixed veggies deluxe meal. People gave it the stink eye as they walked past… One lady also stopped and asked if I was a boy or a girl.

Stink (smartly) scooted over to the Subway to sit in AC and sip soda, so I met her after finishing my …meal. We met an adorable elderly couple there, Atlas and Evelyn Hester. They were so sweet and curious about what we were up to. I just wanted to put them in my pocket and take them with me.

[caption id="attachment_1102" align="alignnone" width="1024"] ride for days… or you know, months…

After Subway, we got back on the road and trekked out to Blakely, where we saw that it was 102˚ out, and scampered into the McDonald’s, where I’ve been sitting ever since, finishing up this insanely long super mega blog post. Sorry everyone, I’m wordy as hell, it seems.

Okay, adding a bit more because we kinda got…. excused from the McDonald’s. Georgia don’t put up with our shenanigins it seems. We rolled to a grocery store across the lot, and found a church in the dark. Unfortunately, it was still hot as heck, there were people milling about and potentially staring at us behind a seedy looking hotel next door, and we just could not get to sleep, no matter how many hours of Harry Potter, Tom Sawyer, and dumb games we entertained ourselves with. Eventually, we just laughed and decided to pack up in the wee hours of the morning to find somewhere else to “sleep”.

We rolled to another church down the road, deemed it passable, and set up our beds (Stink hammocked in the children’s playground, and I squeezed between the church van and my scoot leaning against the wall. It was still hot, but less buggy, and noone was about to make us paranoid, so we actually fell asleep. In the morning, I kept snoozing the alarm because I was dead tired,  but when I heard a car pull up into the parking lot, I jumped out of bed and scrambled to throw my shorts on. Stink rounded the corner just then, and we quickly packed up and got the hay out of there.

We went to a gas station down the street and got coffee and made oatmeal, all bleary eyed and sleep deprived. Then, still half asleep, we rolled out to Alabama, just 15 miles or so away, and got our photograph.

need. sleep.

After that, we scooted on another 15 miles to Dothan, AL, where I grudgingly paid one dollar to use the computer here at the public library to finish up this here blug post. You’re welcome. Just kidding, I love to write for you all.

Uhm, so, in conclusion, go join our Watsi team because it looks sad and small, and uh, that’s (hopefully) all folks!

-Lizzzzzzzzzzzzz with a y