Day Forty One: Roadside Breakdown and a ‘Smoothie' Recovery
Dear faithful readers: I took a four day break from blogging during a hard push into New Orleans, and to spend a couple of days recovering and relaxing. My day-by-day blogging schedule will resume with the trip out of New Orleans — all of the biking days will be backfilled, but not the rest days. Today’s post in particular will be lacking some important detail which I will fill in over time.
Hope you all continue reading — the comments and support have supplied energy and courages to Liz & I many, many times where we needed it desparately.
Read on & ride on!
Kyle
Distance: 70 mi.
Song of the Day: Wolf People — Ninth Night
8AM: Mobile’s tunnels through the bay spin us out on a ten mile loop north of the city. The large bridge at the city’s northern crest almost resembles twisted metal, with a steep banking shoulder swinging west over industrial plants and bay plains.
10AM: Fixing a routine back tire flat, I snap the quick release axel off my bike. It’s a grim moment: I’ve caused an entirely avoidable problem that requires Lizzie to bike five miles to the nearest bike shop, buy a piece of equipment previously an unnecessary expense, and return to me before riding again.
Lizzie returns with the functional axel and the remaining repair takes fifteen seconds to put us back on the road. In town, I scan the available food while Lizzie drinks a coffee and eats a pastry at a coffee shop. I wander into a health food store for some Goji berries (everything else is WAY too expensive) then happen upon a Smoothie King. Looks interesting — inquire further and discover I’ve basically hit gold. I get get a 40 oz smoothie with 15000 calories for only $7! I do not think there is a better protein and calorie delivery method in the world of prepared food for that price.
While sucking down our smoothies we meet a paint store employee Chuck, who sells Lizzie some paint thinner, a much-needed refuel for our low stove alcohol supply.
5pm: Last ten miles agonizing, we’re sun-sickened and ready for a rest. Chance upon Woody’s Roadhouse — winds up being more like a chain, but we eat a full meal, Lizzie isn’t charged for a side of potatoes, and we meet a charming local Susan who almost lets us stay at her house, but it’s fifteen miles in the wrong direction.