Where to Begin?

A few days before I pedaled out of St. Augustine I took a short trip out on the Natchez Trace loaded down with all of my new gear and set out to do a rehearsal ride of sorts. I figured it would be a nice way to get myself accustomed to the wobbling of the trailer and familiarize myself with the setting up and tearing down of camp. What I found though was that when I got on the bike everything worked as it was meant to. The derailleur adjustments I had made left the bike shifting smoothly, the handlebar bag housed my camera and a couple nutra grain bars perfectly, and the American flag waved proudly at passers by.

It was then that I realized the planning was done. One would think this would allow for a sigh of relief and an enjoyable ride without worry but I quickly realized this was the first time in two months that I had time to think about and reevaluate the reasons for my undertaking this trip. "I want to tell stories. I want to take pictures. How am I going to keep people up to date and interested? Can I actually do this?" The wheels turned the entire ride. I set up camp and made the most impressive fire a boy has ever seen and I sat there continuing to think as the occasional car passed by. It was there at the fire where I had this zen sort of moment and gave myself permission to allow the trip to unfold as it would and avoid the pressure I had placed upon myself, which leads me to now, where I feel like I can explain what the trip has become because it's much simpler than I ever could have imagined.

People. Being on a bike all day alone leaves me with one desire: to be with people. I've learned in the past week and a half that if I was to be a fly on the wall taking pictures objectively and not interacting and influencing who I'm with, I would go insane and hop on a bus back to Nashville to be with my friends. The people I have met so far along the way have turned my world upside down and given me a joy that I did not know existed and now all I want to do is meet folks at every stop to hear about their lives and allow their curiosity about mine to restore a bit of my sanity.

The whole trip is a bit more free form than I had imagined. I went from planning each day to planning one day in advance, if that. This allows me to ride into a town not knowing where I'm going to stay and forces me into interaction with locals. The conversation usually goes something like "Excuse me sir, I've just had a long day of biking and I'm looking for a place to put up a tent and sleep for the night, do you know if there are any public places around that might be good?" I've been amazed to find that while someone may not always invite you into their home and cook a big dinner for you, they will always at the very least point you in the right direction.

At any rate, I say all that so anyone expecting regular updates can understand that if the blog isn't updated, I'm having an amazing time. But I AM going to get some pictures up here for ya:

Jake and Judy

I was pretty exhausted in Marianna, Fl after a relatively long day of riding. It was getting dark and I was still without a place to stay. I had read about several touring cyclists who commonly knocked on doors and asked to pitch a tent for the night in a back yard but I never considered it myself until this night. I circled the neighborhoods looking for a house that seemed inviting, or at the very least, not uninviting, and found a place with a well kept yard, a welcome sign and a cross on the front door. I stood outside for about ten minutes rehearsing just what it was I would say to convince whoever might be waiting inside that I wasn't crazy and was legitimately in need of a place to sleep. I knocked and pleaded my case to Judy briefly. She looked back at Jake who was relaxing in his recliner and said in a bit of a confused southern draw, "Jake, this boy wants to sleep in our yard."

Jake spoke soft and firmly without wasting words or a breath. He asked where I was from. He asked about my faith and explained that they were naturally suspicious but after a few more questions they had me bring my bike around back, let me lock it up in their shed, and Jake even brought me out some tangerines. I went to bed in awe of their kindness and woke up to Jake inviting me in for a warm shower and a place at the breakfast table.

Each morning the two have a big bowl of raisin bran and coffee at a small table that sits against the far wall of their kitchen. They read over a list of missionaries from their church that are overseas along with a little devotional and pray for them. Jake prayed in the way he spoke. It reminded me a lot of my grandfather and I had some trouble not tearing up a bit when he began to pray for me, thanking God for their "new friend Nate."

Judy went on to describe how they had met. She had known Jake as a girl and grown up around him and his family. They had taken care of her from a young age and helped her through college. When Jake's wife died she made it up in her mind that she'd relocate closer to Jake so she could care for him much like he had done for her in her youth. As time passed they realized their affection for one another and got married. Jake chimed in at this part of the story saying "Yeah, we raised some eyebrows around town but it never bothered us any." It was a great morning of stories from a beautiful and youthful couple. Before I left a took a couple photos of them in front of their home. Judy gave me an envelope with their address to send her photos once I have the chance to print them. I hope to see them again.

I've got a couple more stories to tell but it's almost 11 here in Oakdale, La and if I don't leave soon I never will. I'll leave a couple more photos of a more random nature, some from the Mobile Bay ferry ride and other roadside things that don't require words to accompany. Although I hope you'll appreciate the beauty of the oil rigs in the bay. Get on your bikes people!