In the quiet of the morning, there is no sound that pleases my ear more than the rhythmic swoosh swoosh swoosh of bicycle tires rolling on pavement. It is soothing; it is hypnotic. It allows one's thinking to drift aimlessly, dancing from thought to thought.
Until, from behind, comes a 'waak-waak" of an 18 wheeler's air horn, and the brain kicks in, "Danger, Will Robinson, Danger', it warns. I move further to the right, even though I am riding right where I need to be. That certainly woke me up! Being lost in space is fine....if there is no traffic. But today, we rode to Phoenix, and the moderately heavy traffic was not mindful of my zen-like bliss. Time for me to pay attention.....if only I had.
Somehow I managed to end up riding alone today. Perhaps it was my impatience at the SAG stop, or because I chose to walk through a heavy construction zone, but for whatever reason, I rode solo. That would have been ok, had I not been clearly lost in space.
I stopped at In-N-Out Burgers for lunch; I just had to try one of these as I had heard so much about them. After lolly-gagging around there for 40 or 50 minutes, I started out on the last leg of the ride. The ride was not difficult--just some long 2% climbs until the next sag stop at mile 50.
Fifty came and went..no Shelley (the SAG driver today)...but I wasn't concerned; these sag stops tend to be some what loose with the mileage, and my mind was just flitting around, mindful of the traffic, but not paying attention to the map. Before I realized it, the road, and endless uphill, I was on had ended. This was definitely not where I was supposed to be, so I called Shelley, and sure enough, I had missed the right turn some miles back. So retracing my steps, which were now a blissful downhill run, I returned to where I was supposed to make that right turn and did so now. I rode up and down long inclines, passing through the cute little vintage town of Cave Creek and in and out of more construction zones. We were supposed to meet at a bike shop, and the only one I saw was vacant with a "for rent' sign on it...no one was there. So I got back on the phone....but I called the bike shop this time to figure out just where they were located.
'Yes I turned right", I told the person that answered.
"Well, your at the opposite end of town from us..."
.....{{SIGH}} I since I had come back the reverse way, I had forgotten to also reverse the directions--I should have turned left, not right at the crucial intersection. Now I was 5 miles on the wrong side of the intersection--and the bike shop was five miles beyond that. Around I turned, and headed back in the very direction I had come--up and down the same hills and in and out of the orange cones. I finally found the shop, but only because I ran into Lynne and Suzanne, who were also looking for it. Lynne clearly has a better sense of direction than I do as she went straight to it.
When it was all said and done, I had pedaled 78 miles instead of the 65 mapped out for us, with many climbs and more sightseeing than anyone else got to do......so is that what happens when one is lost in space....
78 miles..13 more than I was supposed to
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Consider that the "scenic" route. That's what I call it when I'm lost! :!)
ReplyDeleteLaura B
This is so you, Mom- I couldn't help but chuckle. Where is the Garmin when you need it? :)
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