A Strand Of Spidersilk In My Coffee
I found Simon and Mike later on in the evening (they were off playing miniature golf with teenyboppers), and we shared chocolate, beer, and stove fuel. They’re on a short, 12-day random tour of the Eastern seaboard. Yesterday was their last night, and my first, so in the spirit of travel and the cycle-addled state of significance, they presented me with gifts: a small bulb of garlic and a grease-wipe for cleaning my hands after I’ve worked on my chain. I expect that at some point during the next 5,000 miles I will bless their names and do a small jig in their honor.
At the moment I’m sipping me some coffee (made in the Titanium French Press O’ Caffeinated Tomfoolery) and pondering what, exactly, I’m going to do today.
I suspect it will involve pedaling my tricycle from this place to another place, but that could just be wild conjecture on my part.
I’m still reeling: yesterday Pea and Katy dropped me off at the Yorktown Victory Monument (commemorating the kicked asses of the British in 1781), and I just…rode off.
OK, OK…I didn’t just ride off. There were pictures and some tears and a great deal of appreciation on my part for both Pea and Katie, although I doubt I showed it sufficiently because I can be a jerk that way. It was much better than, say, renting a one-way Hertz minivan and seeing my sorry self off all by my lonesome.
After I said farewell and rolled away from the monument I discovered the York River, so I stopped, took off my shoes, socks, and my right trailer wheel, walked down to the water and did the Ceremonial Dipping Of The Wheel. This will be accompanied a similar Dipping of the front wheel into the waters off Astoria in Oregon.
And that was yesterday. Today it’s supposed to be 89 degrees, muggy, with a possibility of some rain, and at the moment I still don’t know where my bed’s going to be tonight.
So I’ll have me some more bewebbed coffee, and think on that a spell.
