Lack of words.
So the days have all come crashing down, northwestern coast we remain today. A day of thinking and recalculating. A day of stress. It is thought when one person is on vacation, all the worries will just vanish and a smile will always be worn. A period when time would stand still and a moment can be taken to enjoy the breeze. Today, no breeze. No amount of time can be taken to make a decision. No day of rest for the racing mind.
Waking up rather late due to sleeping in a basement, hidden from the light of day and the commotion it brings, I staggered to the stairs. A rest day always seems to throw off the rhythm, allowing muscles to relax and lets pain remind you of the work already spent. My knees are not doing too well. Down 8lbs since Louisiana, I am not very happy. As I am the kind of guy whom burns calories just breathing, all the food in the world can not help me gain back my weight. 400 calorie meal supplement bars, ones I eat three times a day as snacks… don’t do me justice. If it wasn’t for the great breakfast this morning, I would have not gathered enough motivation to wake up.
Dirk and I spent a long morning talking, the sound of maps and paper, computers and cell phones. I made a comfy spot on this couch, the bed I will choose tonight. This spot became my post for the duration of the morning. Watching the fog roll off the hills in the distance and revealing the trees, I had a front row seat to Seattle. Megan helped in our think tank of a discussion. Like a super rubber ball, ideas bounced about. I can not say this plan, one that may unfold or just stay a far fetched ideal. The fact remains, an adventure is what you make out of it. A story can never be boring as long as problems arise. A story is subject to change. This book is still being written.
Tossing the packs off the bikes and borrowing a sweet messenger bag from Megan, we set off for downtown. During the earlier discussion, we were told there was a second hand outdoor equipment store and we wanted in. Located across town and hidden among the busy streets of north Seattle, a combination of train and cycling was required. Pulling my last toothpick out of my wallet and placing it in my mouth, I bit down as I put pressure on my leg. An old habit is refreshed and I get through the ride.
I find city riding to be a completely different sport, one that requires a bit more assertive and aggressive attitude, the polar opposite to country touring. I felt a surge of excitement as we cut the traffic like warm butter. Designated bike lanes and drivers that are experienced with cyclists, what more can be asked. As we flew down the streets, up and over curbs and down bike paths, the city seemed to just flow around us. Looking up, the pigeons flew parallel to traffic, head high and too close for comfort. Swatting about, I just shifted gears and we moved deeper into the beast.
Subway then called us over telling me I was again hungry, taking my credit card with a smile, I destroyed my foot long meatball marinara. The ride back wasn’t the best. Bad Idea to leave the knee brace at Megan’s, bad idea to have been hauling ass. So with my new sense of happiness, the ride home was great. With happy thoughts and some sights to see, my mind tricked the body into cooperation. Now the bed, now some rest. Tomorrow…. it’s ON.