So... the response to my refusal to buy
cigars for minors was a drive-by-two-pound soda to the head. To
which, my response was a police report and crying on the lawn of the
nearest Pizza Hut. The east coast has not been my favorite of places
to bike through. The population density and the inability to find an
un-urbanized area to camp had been frustrating and demoralizing. Up
until today I had not met a single malicious person, only wonderful,
generous, and interesting people everywhere from Oregon to North
Carolina. Literally, one person in several million has gone out of
their way to try to cause me harm. I can still live with odds like
that.
I have covered a lot of distance since
leaving Shreveport, LA. I finished crossing Louisiana, cut through a
corner of Arkansas, rode straight across Mississippi, Alabama,
Georgia, and north through South Carolina. My first day in North
Carolina has been memorable, but not fondly. It is times like now
that I remember all the wonderful people who I have already met along
the way: Jim the geologist who was in the camp site next to me at the
Grand Canyon. Who better to cook dinner with at the Grand Canyon than
a geologist? Louise and Michael, old friends of the family who gave
me the opportunity to sit around, drink lime-aid, and read books in
the sun for a week in New Mexico. The city workers who opened the
community center for me to sleep in when it was 110 degrees in
Arkansas. The man who gave me a ride to the store for parts to fix my
tire in Mississippi. All my family members who I have visited along
the way and a few members who I met for the first time. And everyone
who has pulled over to offer help whenever I sat on the side of the
road fixing a flat tire. There are so many good people who are
willing to go out of their way, be late for appointments, and offer
an incredible amount of trust to assist a stranger. I cannot believe
that humanity as a whole is evil. I can only be so prepared to face
the world. It is the
“figuring-out-what-to-do-with-the-world-as-it-hurls-things-at-me-through-a-car-window”
that makes an adventure worth while. It is the personal growth that
will make me better as a person and the problem solving skills that
can only develop for the better that I will look back at and rely on
long after my bicycle is mounted to the wall of my future garage with
bald tires and rusted out spokes. As life continues and I make plans
for the future trips, one bad day won't mean a whole lot.
