I left at 1100hrs, the weather was hot and hazy, the wind was at my back for the initial 14 miles. An airborne Hawk aloft followed me for around about 5 or 6 miles casting his shadow in front of me as a reminder that he was still there watching the strange human below rolling on the wheels. This bird of prey screamed as he took off at the end of our chase, I did not see him again but perhaps he saw me. I stopped at my first directional change to make sure I was on track and my pocket was vibrating all the way from Boone. I answered the call under a sign that read, "Goose Creek Airport".
The following pictures were taken by me with my friend's tiny camera that I was not used to.
A little plane buzzed in for a landing.
About 20 minutes later the info came again without the T and I stopped to take this quick snap.
I had never ridden on these roads before and a consistent theme was multiple little family cemeteries just off the side of the tarmac. Here is the burial marker for Jemima Secrest who died in 1905.
My first and only neutral pee break took place just as I turned off of Rocky River and onto lower New Town. On the way back from the tall grass I noticed that I had dropped my bike near an empty chicken truck. If you look closely you may see feathers in the caging.
Self portrait under some weird bumpkin electro infrastructure in the sticks.
Back in Dooleyville glad that the 4hrs were over. I am not trying to hide any miles, averages, top speeds or any other critical data by not having my computer on its mount. If you remember that computer actually broke on the return effort of the 2008 Double Down and it is sitting functionless on the bench in the barn. I am hoping one day to find a bin of death replacement for it so I left the mount on.
Road riding is strange to begin with and the strange can be compounded by 10 when you go at it alone in the Carolina Heat. Most of the car vipers that passed me seemed to go by unnoticed, windows up breathing the ever sweet freon conditioned ice air. No aggressive altercations although there were a few gas stompings that I will remember as the extra hot black colored exhaust that I breathed in over the hot radiation from the tar. I saw Mercer's ex-girlfriend driving his truck somewhere within the country city limits of Monroe. She tooted the horn, meeting and passing her at that point in the ride gave me a mild crack out. From Dooleyville through the country then a full on South Side Toon transfer before the last 40 minutes back here. Some of that huge McMansion Toon on Marvin Rd looked absolutely bonkers sitting vacant from the 4 millions on a bald hill that used to be forested. Those vacant McToonsions are apparently the majority in those failed little big developments. I saw the mortgage crisis and it is not pretty, just empty, void of any movement except for the radiating volatile non organic compounds in the sun.
Say it with me, "Life is Good!"