House 103

"Hey guys, I think this is it", I slowed down as I saw the numbers decreasing... 161, 149, 137, 125, one-oh... three. I looked to my left and growing out of a courtyard of foliage stood Helen's home: full of beds, sherbet ice cream, electrical outlets, spaghetti, stale cereal, and hot running water.

After a much needed scrub and a changing into a pair of shorts that didn't have 1/4 inch of padding in the crotch, I exposed my gnarly spandex tan line and I met the boys and Helen downstairs for dinner. One spoonful in and I swear I saw a tear squeak from the crevasse of Steve's eye. It was. the best. meal of my life. Note: I'd been eating tree bark and slurping on flavored water for the past 3 days so anything would appear to be a feast and in comparison taste like spiced lamb shanks, and yes it was so so enjoyed. Helen even indulged us in wine!

After dinner was over we sat and reflected in a pool of our newfound obesity listening to Helen talk about her college summers counseling at the all-girls camp, the prestige of Bowdoin College, the catholic church, cats, poverty and education for about two hours... we could tell she enjoyed having us; she was an amazing thoughtful and giving woman that was quick to volunteer to the needs of her community and she definitely kept herself busy with said activities... however I couldn't help but wonder how lonely that'd be to spend 50-some years all on your lonesome... but when conversation left the space for my lungs to yawn instead of just my head nodding, and I was able to time my dismissal from dinner and march upstairs with the boys for a slumber amidst coils and springs. Heaven.

First things first... gotta stretch the quads... check out that face... and that tan-line

Sleep GOOD tonight!

Tuesday, September 13th, and day three of our adventure I gradually came to consciousness around 7 am. Steve and Adam had already finished sugared mush, I mean their oatmeal, and had begun unpacking and repacking all the supplies from both B.O.B. trailers. Even though I woke up stiff, cold, and grungy... I was in a good humor because I knew there was a chance we'd have a bed and possibly even a shower that night.

Dew sucks :) we got to wipe off those golden drops of sun each morning

We slipped away around 7:45. I didn't notice my knee or any pain that morning. I knew having the brace and icy hot would help... however I wasn't very optimistic. Brunswick would be 9 miles further than we'd biked the first two days, and if it already bothered me then how couldn't it on the third? I did my best to put those thoughts out of my mind as we pulled over quickly for the morning ritual/ sit down... you know what I mean... My phone was dead that morning as I had been unable to pick up a charge in the "woods" of John and Mary's backyard so while Adam and Steve were in the restroom I plugged my mobile unit into an outlet and almost immediately and unknown number popped up on my screen. That must be her... it must be Hellen. My heart flittered with excitement as I whipped the phone to my ear,

"HI! Is this Hellen?! Oh my goodness it's so... blah blah blah... Spaghetti?? (my heart dropped and sprung though my throat in one simultaneous moment) Would we eat spaghetti??? We would eat ALL your spaghetti and we will love it. LOVE IT." That was it, it had been decided, 45 miles to Brunswick or bust. I was stuffing my face something crazy tonight.

a hill. a big big hill.

3:07 and 35 miles later we were on the outskirts of Brunswick, best yet- my knee was holding up. Adam and Steve convinced me to pull over for 10 minutes as badly as I didn't want to... something about being tired from hauling 100 lbs of my "shit" around all day. MY what? I had to remind both Adam and Steve that they both packed more clothes than I had and I'd held up my end of the bargain for the past three days so their complaints we not acceptable.

easy does it

THE BARGAIN: Since Adam and Pretty Boy Floyd lacked the social skills to get someone at a door to like them... well, no... maybe it wasn't that... something about me being too weak to pull a trailer and them not being cute and ditzy enough to land some grass for the night. (Every time they'd imitate my housing approach they'd obnoxiously whip the heads around, bat their eyes, and flap their wrists... however I feel pretty confident I looked nothing like Flipper). It was my job, the female, to find a place to rest every night... it really did make sense.

3:17, after an amusing rest we hopped back to it, until someone got us an extra 3 miles lost. My bad.

3:36 met a cyclist biking home from work that put us back in the right direction and back up that big ol' hill we just glided down. I wish I could say the confusion ended there, but after passing through a tunnel, under an interstate and over 5 sets of railroad tracks we couldn't find ourselves. The directions from the locals made little to NO sense at all and we were wandering aimlessly through the touristy side streets of northern Brunswick, a mere 12 miles from Helen- SO ready to be done. but nope. We were looking for a gazebo in a park, a library, a five-way stop and "well-known" invisible bike path (that apparently only the woman that informed us of this path was the only one that knew about it, she and all the bicyclists we couldn't find that were probably riding on it). But somehow by the grace of God we found it. Right? Of course we did! Would I have built this up so much if we hadn't?! That's not to say Steve and I weren't snapping at one-another, apparently my GPS sucked and I'm even worse at reading it... it may have been fortune that it died, so I just shut up, I was fed up, sore, sun-burnt, tired, cotton-mouth, and HUNGRY...

But yeah you guessed it, we found our path that lead straight into the city's clearly marked bike path and yeah, as we reached the end of the trail (7 blocks from out destination) we sure did run into the Brunswick City Cycling Club.

Nearing the end of the Brunswick Bike Trail

Honestly, as we were flying off the path and through the parking lot and when I first saw them waving at us, I couldn't help but think, "YES we ARE biking somewhere, Miami, YES we know it's FAR, YES it's cool, now stop bothering and let me finish" but with no sympathy to my negative attitude, fate, well... actually Adam took a hard right straight to the crowd. Damnit Adam... don't you know I'm STARVING. So I eased my brakes and held back from the crowd hoping the boys would notice I wasn't in the mood to mingle... again to no avail. So I sczootched forward, straddled the steel and listened to their stories. And yes, I was wrong, it was great to meet them... they fixed my handlebars that had been ganked out from my fall 115 miles earlier, adjusted my seat, and pointed us in the direction of a bike-shop (Steve learned from them he desperately needed a new seat) and that evening's home. God is good. His timings perfect while mine is not. Looks like getting lost was all part of the plan. One thing was for sure...

SLEEP GOOD TONIGHT.