Tuesday February 27, 2007

Ok, so it's a night nasty with fog and the hotels are a tad crowded especially for a Sunday night. I stand around and think for a bit about what to do. My cash flow is Ok at this time, but not as healthy as I want it to be.

There has been an explosion of communication regarding the non-profit that I volunteer with and it gets even later as I sit in the airport for an extra hour and try to pour some oil on churning waters as I sit and try to decern just what is going right and wrong.

I get to my bike around 2AM. I don't see things getting much better. LOL.

It takes me over half an hour to pack my bike and get on the road. Two AM, the night is foggy and I decide to move on.

About an hour later, I realize just what a really bad decision that was. I smile as I think--ahh, a learning opportunity about life. I pull off and my jeans and jacket are soaking wet from the fog. The fairing and my helmet visor keep ending up drenching wet. I decide to pull over as my load needs to be adjusted and I need gas. I see a sign up ahead for hotels, but after I pull off there is no gas station. There are security guards in the hotel parking lots which means that
1. I can't really use the hotel parking lot to rearrange my load
2. The area isn't particularly safe
3. When I pull into a parking lot to turn around, I end up dumping the bike because I was stupid.

I sigh as I pull the load entirely off the bike and grin--well, I needed to reload it anyway-- and ahh, another learning opportunity about life.

It fleetingly goes through my head that I am going to wish that I had practiced finding the best way to pick up my bike. (I am often slow to move, so doing this voluntarily isn't likely.)

It takes two tries, but I find the balance point and get the bike back up. I fleetingly wonder what it would be like to pick it up if I had a set of good knees and take a couple of Ibuprofen for my bike. I glance up as I get into my backpack and realize that the security from the Holiday Inn is watching me. That can be seen as good or bad. There is a good chance that if something goes wrong the guy will at least call 911. I hope he knows the number. The bad part is that I don't really enjoy other people watching me recover from stupidity.

So, I am soaking wet, no place to change clothes, my load is on the parking lot at my feet, my actions are being watched (and probably greatly enjoyed), and I have to tear apart my duffle bag to get to my rain gear.

I don the gear, repack the load and go to move on. I find a gas station, buy a paper, read it and fall asleep on my bike until 6AM when the gas station McDonalds opens. I eat some breakfast and think about taking it as easy as I can for a six hour ride that will require a lot of breaks.

The ride from Huston to Pharr is long and boring. I end up getting to the park around 6:30 that night as I had pulled off a couple of times in rest areas to take a nap on the benches.

I unpack my bike and wait for my parents to show up. I must be the amusement for the Banana Street or at least I feel that way. I dump my stuff next to teh storage shed and as it grows later, I realize that they are probably at a dinner for hosts tutors.

I walk over to the library and sit and read a book. I call the trailer about every 15 minutes to see if they have gotten home yet. Even with the sleep, I am still tired.

Happy trails, Marty