Hoping for a Tail Wind

I woke up this morning with just 100 miles to the border. I also realized there was gunfire everywhere. After realizing that no, this wasn’t Compton, I did recall the sign where I snuck into the woods last night: Conservation Area. Conservation is code word for hunting, and the hunters woke up before I did!

I broke camp and cruised out, hoping my frail rim can take a cue from NWA, aka “the most dangerous group alive” and get a little “gangsta” all the way back to Buffalo.

So as the sun sets and I hope my secret camp spot doesn’t get noticed, I’m reminded of that Tom Hanks film Castaway. The one where he get stranded and befriends a soccer ball he refers to as Wilson. Wilson keeps him sane and is his best friend, Hanks character even cries when Wilson goes bye bye.

The sun has been my Wilson. I’ve spoke to the sun daily. More so when it’s actually out, but even on cloudy days I root for it to overcome the clouds and break thru. I like the sun: it keeps me dry and warm, it provides long daylight to put in extra miles, it helps facility roadside naps, and it allows me to have my tunes playing.

This morning it was mostly cloudy – and even after four days in a row of 90 degree heat – I chatted with the sun; asking it to come on out. And whaddya know, blue skies all afternoon and evening. So I was warm and dry, did about 110 miles, took a little nap, and – best of all – got to hear tunes like “Come Sunrise” by Grant Green, “Sun is Shining” by Bob Marley and “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles.