7/18/2019 Eat Lunch Whenever You Want To
We rolled out around noon the day we left Bainbridge. Still not ready to chill out about "start times" and "distance covered," I was kinda stressed about this departure time because everything I'd read about bike touring was all "up before dawn," "pedaling by sunrise," and "50 miles a day, easy." So far, our experience did not add up to this, and, being how I am, I thought it meant that everything about how I was doing it was wrong. We don't need to hash out my psychology, but I will say that a part of me tends to be a rules-follower. I've been known to follow a recipe, even when I think the recipe is flawed and am then disappointed when I didn't follow my instinct instead. I am learning to let go of the anxiety that, for me, comes with going against certain grains. I'm continuing to realize that life really has no rules, and you're probably better off following your own...or not even sticking to those, actually. You are allowed to sleep in, you can ride as much or as little as you want, and lunch doesn't have to be eaten at noon.
The hills were back, but not quite as treacherous as they are in southern Indiana, and we pedaled for a couple hours before we needed to restock our water supply. So far, still wanting to keep to ourselves rather than reach out to others, we had been stopping to filter creek water using our LifeStraw system. With all the encouragement in mind from a Clash of Clans friend, whom I've mentioned before, we decided to pull over and ask to fill our water bottles. The reason this is momentous is because it marks the first time we asked for what we needed from strangers. My friend (our friend) had been advising me that when you ask for what you need, you usually get something much better than what you had alternatively planned. He was referring to asking property owners to camp, as opposed to stealth camping, but in this case, having never done anything like this before, I thought asking for a simple water bottle fillup would be a good place to start.
We had come to an intersection of the US highway we'd been travelling on and a state highway. What was here was the only signs of civilization for miles. Thankfully, there was a garden store/nursery and the ruins of an old building next door. I was hopeful that, being a plant nursery, they would definitely have water. I went into the garden store with our Dromedary and immediately spotted a cat, "ooh! Someone I can relate to who won't judge me!" So I started meowing and petting the cat for a socially awkward amount of time. The two women in the shop approached and commented on how he, the cat, loves getting attention. "Clearly!" I said with a smile. "So is there anything we can help you with?" one asked. "Well, my boyfriend and I are on a bike tour. Do you know where Bainbridge is?" They did. It was only 10 or so miles down the highway. I proceeded to tell them many more details about our adventures than they needed to know before asking them if there was a bathroom sink or somewhere where I could fill up our reservoir. They said they'd let me use the hose except the water from it wasn't very good. So the younger woman set me up with 4 bottles of water that they sell at the store, free of charge. I asked her a bit about the store--it was for sale. It's been in the family for 27 years or so, and they were wanting to retire. I wonder if anyone's bought it yet. Before I went back outside, feeling more confident, I asked if it would be alright if we had our lunch out in their side yard. Of course it was alright, and that's how we came to eat lunch at 2:30 in the afternoon. Next to a garden store & nursery in the middle of nowhere in Indiana.
Refueled and ready to carry on, we continued west along the highway with its narrow shoulder and less than peaceful traffic. It was just a two-lane highway going through several middles of nowhere in Indiana, but somehow everyone and their mother seemed to be using it. We were eager to find an alternate route, and we were running low on water again. Blazing down a robust hill, I spotted a church and decided to pull off there and check the map for other roads we could take. Two older gentlemen were chatting outside the church and, having seen us pull off, after some time of us looking at the map, one decided to ask if we needed anything. We told him we were alright, just looking for another way to continue west without using the highway. He told us of two routes, one was "real purty" though a bit far out of the way, and the other was a gravel road. What we didn't tell him was we were also looking for a place to pitch our tent for the night. They were very kind, we thanked them, and set off down the road for the purty route. As the afternoon wore into the evening, we hadn't yet reached the first road going west, the gravel one, but we had come to a lovely babbling creek not far from where someone was raising sheep. We stopped to rest a minute and admire the creek, and the sheep bahhing from down the road was just the most hilarious thing to me. They sounded like people imitating sheep bahhing. Just, " BAAA! BAAAH! BAAA! BAH! BAAAAAAAAHHH!" I couldn't get enough.
Dusk was beginning to fall, and we decided to head back to the church as there was a small cemetery there that we thought we could probably spend the night in. If the two men were still there, we would ask if it was okay (confidence built from earlier in the day!) to pitch our tent for the night, and if they weren't, we would just do our best to stay hidden and be gone by morning light. As we rode back up the road, I noticed how particularly vibrant the sunset was that evening. On the same page, as we often are, Adam said, "Are you seeing this?" and we instinctually stopped to take the best pictures we could.
The first of our countless campouts in cemeteries did not pass without a bit of excitement. After we had tucked ourselves in, we heard a man yelling and swearing from a house not far away. We heard doors slamming and a car speed off. It wasn't long before the car returned to the house at which time there was more door slamming and yelling. It was clearly a domestic dispute, and as you can imagine, still adjusting to this new lifestlye and never knowing what to expect in uncharted territories, our senses heightened, and we were put on edge. Of course, my imagination ran wild and one of the curses of having strong powers of imagination is imagining the worst possible scenario. "People don't shoot people then bring them to the cemetery to bury them in real life, do they?" Adam decided outloud: "If we hear gunshots, we're leaving." I was pretty much okay with this but still had strong resistance to the idea because riding my bike was still excruciatingly painful at this point. It's a rough spot to be in, I tell you. Nothing ever came to pass over in the cemetery, but that didn't mean we slept well. We slept horribly, and I, for one was quite grumpy the next day. Lack of sleep, excessive heat, dehydration, and insufficient caloric intake will do that to you. It gets better gradually over the next several months though, don't fret over the 21st Century Nomads yet.
We arose before dawn, got packed up with relative swiftness and ease, and Adam decided to true his rear wheel with which he had been having problems. I was of no help with my anxiety about believing we were somewhere we weren't supposed to be and not living up to the whole "50 miles a day" thing. He got his wheel in good enough shape to roll on, and so we rolled on. Before long, we came to Cecil M Harden lake, what a sight that was! We'd be able to rest in some shade, have some lunch, and filter some much needed water. I got to work with the LifeStraw while Adam took another look at his wheel. The wheel would prove to be a source of much frustration all the way through to Edmond, Oklahoma. The silver lining is that Adam has developed skills in trueing a bike wheel, an excellent skill to have if you're to embark on a bike tour.
In mid-afternoon, I had to pee, on account of us finally having plenty of water, so we pulled over. After relieving myself, I decided I needed some Peanut Butter Power (that's what I call it when I'm grinding up a hill after having consumed that blessed concoction...like the narrator over an old superhero cartoon..."Peanut Butter Powwweeerrrrrrr!!"). I was also just extremely exhausted. I needed some rest. It was close enough to evening that after having taken an extended peanut butter break, we decided to cross the road and take our chances stealth camping in between some tall corn and some trees. The creek winding among the trees was called Little Raccoon Creek. We were hoping it did not live up to its name. It did not. We were relieved. We worked together to clear and flatten the rough grass so that it wouldn't be so harsh on our tent. It was early enough in the evening that we had time to relax before pitching the tent. I washed myself, we had dinner, and we were able to discuss some of the things that had been frustrating us and causing miscommunication and tension between us thus far on the trip. It was a wholly beneficial evening, and I think we both finally got a decent night's rest. There was poison ivy everwhere by the way. Don't think that just because we haven't mentioned it in awhile means that it hasn't been prevalent!!
New day, same routine. Early morning hill. We pulled over at the Econo Lodge since we noticed a park-like area outside of it with a picnic table. I attempted pancakes, this time omitting the oil in the recipe and instead slathering the pan in oil. What we got were not pancakes but were rather delicious greasy blobs of fried pancake batter. It was a cool, gray, drizzly morning, the wood was smoky, but dangit, we ate alright and had our coffee too! We packed up and rolled into Rockville via Old Highway 36 which took us across a rickety old covered bridge and into town through some neighborhood backroads. We were greeted by a dog who seemed excited to see us. He had what appeared to be one of those anti-bark collars, and he led us all the way through the neighborhood up to where Hwy 36 runs through town. He even started to follow us into the busy road, and I said " No Rocky! Be careful, you'll get hit!!" Rocky seemed like a suitable name for our guide into Rockville. A couple of women out for a morning jog distracted him, so he started following them, and we went on our way to the visitors center in search of....any guesses?....water! I noticed they only had bottles of water for sale (p'shaw!) and some overpriced postcards, but I did pick up a visitor's map of the county's covered bridges. Apparently the county is the covered bridge capital of the world, and there's a Covered Bridge Festival that we were urged to come back for.
We made our way to the bank so I could ask a question about our bank card, and after getting my question answered, I was invited to help myself to the refreshments available on a table in the lobby area: sodas, homegrown vegetables, Golden Oreos as well as the icky chocolate ones (just kidding, I like both). So help myself I did, and as we were outside enjoying an ice cold Diet Pepsi and Oreos together, we were quite the exhibit in the bank parking lot. I think we had 3 separate conversations with folks who were curious about our journey. One of which was the pastor in town at one of the churches. We had a lengthy conversation with him, and he invited us to contact him if we were ever in town again and assured us we would have a place to stay if we wanted to come in for the Covered Bridge Festival.
All caught up in covered bridge fever, I wanted to slightly alter our route so that we could see a few of them as we made our way onward, so that's just what we did. I am nothing if not blessed that my boyfriend is flexible and humors me so that I can follow pretty much every one of my whims. It's not that I love covered bridges or anything, it's just that the last 3 weeks (except for Bainbridge) had been so grueling that I welcomed very enthusiastically something to do that wasn't eat peanut butter, sleep, or smack mosquitoes.
In bike related details, we were still riding with no spare tubes since changing a flat in Martinsville, and we searched a few stores in town for tubes with no luck. We then headed out into the flat and expansive countryside to ride through some covered bridges.
Comments are closed.
|
Archives
February 2024
CategoriesAll Eats Gear HSFRL Lifestyle Nugs Opinion Patterns Recipies Travel |