Today was Bob's funeral. I have held his family, Pastor Chris, and my congregation in prayer all day.
Yesterday I lost my watch. This morning my bike computer stopped working. I can't track mileage or speed, but the clock still works.
We left camp at a little after 8:00 and stopped for breakfast 20 miles up the road at a Subway in Orondo. We each bought an extra 5 dollar footlong for insurance.
After Orondo we climbed out of the river valley gaining 2000 feet. It was a unique form of purgation, making me regret every wicked deed and impure thought. That included the language I used on the way up.
We stopped for a snack at Waterville where a uniformed animal control officer told us of his transcontinental ride. I assured him that Buddy is licensed. He wished us safe travels.
Leaving the river meant an end to the fruit orchards. We continued upward into a land of wheat and sage.Dust devils danced across the fields. I stopped to use an outhouse--an outhouse--at the apparently abandoned Farmer's Community Hall. Any port in a storm.
There was a fast 4 mile descent into a John Ford red rock valley of awesome beauty. The climb out was shorter and steeper. We pushed our bikes.
Thereafter it was mostly uphill for a long ways. BJ bonked. I had ridden ahead of him. Riding back, I found him sitting by the road, his bike on its side. We ate half of our footlongs and rode on a way.
Then BJ broke his rear brake cable. We fixed it by the roadside. This was just before another speedy drop into the river valley. Whew.
We are holed up for the night with the Labor Day crowd at Sun Lakes State Park. It is loud and crowded, but should settle down soon.
A strong Venturi wind is blowing through the camp cooling things off nicely and drowning our the neighbors' noise. BJ's odometer says we rode 68.98 miles today.
Somebody smoked weed in the men's room. I don't have time to make the story as funny as it could be. I'm going to bed.
 | |
Buddy |
 |
Any port in a storm |
No comments:
Post a Comment