Making my way up north to Auburn, Alabama. The nights were cold and wet, but the morning rays sent tendrils of joy through my body. So much has happened, and the following post is composed of photographs and brief snippets of conversation.
"You ever eat at Cracker Barrel?"
Thomas looked over at me from the drivers seat of his new car, the tangerine streetlights reflecting like halos on the windshield as we drove into the night.
"Once. I really like their biscuits. They're unlimited."
Needless to say Thomas ended up calling me Biscuit Boy for the duration of my stay...
Moving along to Montgomery, I encountered a terrible storm. In an effort to get out of the downpour,I called a Warm Showers couple Dick and Anita to see if they had a porch overhang that I could sleep under for the night. It ended up working out, and Dick even offered to pick me up and bring me home with him.
"Have you ever been on a bicycle tour, Dick?"
"Of course. I cycled across the United States seven times."
"Holy guacamole. What do you do about the...dogs?" I was referencing the wolf-like hounds that had chased me throughout my time in Alabama. For the most part cyclists don't carry any sort of weapon with them, besides a pocketknife or wrench, but the tool's use is more likely to be spent cutting cheese than defending oneself from a mob of unleashed would-be Veloceraptors.
Dick looked at me, his eyes glistening mischievously. "Wasp spray."
He laughed, his demeanor oozing with rich confidence. I imagined him spraying the blood-red eyes of a wolf with this concoction, then casually tossing the spent container in his rear saddle bag - the metal corpses singing their battle cries from the darkness.
"Wasp Spray. They shoot 27 feet, easily."
"Have you ever used one before?"
Dick smiled, "Nope, but it sounds like it'll do the trick!"
"Here Cujo, show Enoch how strong you are. Let's go outside."
Richard sat down in his electric scooter and powered it on. The small dog's ears perked up when he heard his name, and nimbly darted to the base of the cart.
"Come on, let's go. Take me out there."
Cujo's small body gave way to an intensity mainly associated with animals five times his size, and immediately grabbed Richard's shoe, pulling as hard as he could towards the front door.
Richard laughed, watching the events unfold. As he slowly maneuvered the chair across the floor with his hand on the control pad, he explained his actions between Cujo's concentrated growls and a beaming smile:
"I really think that he believes that he's pulling me across the room. He's my protector, small body but large spirit. I guess I don't have the heart to break it to him, but watching him put everything into this makes me smile."
Finally made it to New Orleans! Spending a week with my buddy Kelby, right before I head out and shred to Austin, Texas. This time, I'll have company on the next me of the tour! Get stoked, beautiful things are happening!