Seeing, tasting and experiencing the numerous cultures of our country is the most common justification for splurging on delicious local food. I've decided to make it a point to realize a justified dream doesn't change my daily budget. Experiencing the southern food of Mississippi and spice of the southwest will be on a much tighter budget. Additionally, my mom points out I'm writing more of a food blog than a travel one. "Are you sure you want me to send these thermals? You probably can't even fit in them anymore."
It's been raining on us for 30 miles though. My hands are so cold I can't squeeze my brake levers, the sweat on my back feels like an ice pack, splashes from puddles soak my creaky knees and there's still more water being sent down upon us. Large signs, off the parkway, beckon us to a building of warmth, light and, coincidentally, buffalo wings. The food was mediocre, but that's not the important part. As we walk in, a couple in their sixties are walking out. The wife asks us where we plan on sleeping. We tell her we don't know, but a plate of food, forced darkness and a little ambition usually finds us a few trees to hang our hammocks in. She's fairly onboard until she hears the word 'hammock'. It tends to throw people off guard, possibly due to it's sense of unknown to most. The husband informs us he helps run a Christian camp and should have some beds for us in a bunk room. He has to clear it with his director, but will be back to let us know.
Coming back an hour later, after a plate of wings and a light IPA, he gives us a thumbs up. We finish up, attach all our lights and head off. My headlight has turned to its low battery setting right off the bat. We envisioned a leisurely ride to a cabin in the woods. Turns out, we left Mount Olympus in Virginia, but found K2 in North Carolina. Near the top, the trees break and we see scattered lights in a valley below. It looks to be the highest overlook we've viewed on the trip.
Dan, Rosemary and their terrier, Gypsy, live in a comfortable home, near the summit of the mountain we climbed. They've only been at this camp for ten months, although Dan has been "in camping" since he was a teenager. Off and on throughout the years while also working as an electrician. We sit in their home as we drink glasses of water and talk about the past and present. Pedaling atop another dark hilltop, we arrive at the summer bunk houses. Through our conversation, I think Hueso imagines open structures, with rodents scurrying around.
We had all the amenities we could ever ask for. Full kitchen, bathrooms, hot showers and beds. Overwhelmed, I move slower than I have been and seem to rethink everything when I have more opportunities and options. The neard disappears and I take a long hot shower. Scrubbing dead skin off in patches. Hueso is in one shower over and we yell phrases of excitement back and forth. It's a scene of ridiculousness, in which I hope nobody had to hear.
Thank you, Dan and Rosemary.
Waking much later than planned, we organize our gear and head off. The continued loop back to the parkway is the most exhilarating and curvy descent so far. Hueso gets a little over ambitious with speed in one of the corners and rides through a grass shoulder for a bit. I'm a little over ambitious with leaning in the same corner and scrape my front pannier on the asphalt for a second. Laughs are exchanged, we use our brakes a little more and ride on. An old pickup, used decades ago, sits in a field, with vines growing up and through it. There's a large load of trees, ten feet long and two feet wide, still sitting on the flatbed. It's a great way to arrive back on the parkway.
No comments:
Post a Comment