I decided I'm not going to document this summer's trip on the blog. I'm not feeling it. It just doesn't feel right to divide up a big beautiful summer adventure into little posts on a blog. I still believe that books are the best way to tell these stories. I'm not saying I'll never blog about another summer adventure. I probably will. I'm just saying that right now I'm not. But I am going to write about the road.
There's something I have been meaning to write about. It happened a little while back, just another evening in the universe. I needed to go to the store, and I decided to ride my bike. It wasn't dark yet, but the sun had set. It was twilight, that great time of the night that I love. I rode to the store, locked up, and did some quick shopping.
When I came out of the store, I saw buzzards flying and bedded down for the night in the tall pine trees behind the grocery store. Also, there were buzzards on top of the store (I couldn't see them, but I knew they were there from my other observations). As I was unlocking my bike, I heard a big horn go off--one of those can-sized air horns. A store employee was trying to scare off the buzzards. It made me kind of sad. Some flew away. But I had a feeling they would be back, later. The store wasn't open that late. Or maybe they would go somewhere else. There were lots of great trees around.
I was thinking about the buzzards as I got on my bike and turned on my lights. I have a set of bright lights: a strong two-watt light in the front, and a super blinking red light in the back. They really do have some great bike lights out there these days. The LED technology makes things possible. I was also wearing my bright green safety vest. I didn't really need the lights to see the road. I had them on just for safety.
I started riding up the hill. I was still thinking about the buzzards, because as I rode up the hill I could look over and see them in the pine trees to my left. Then I felt my right pocket vibrate. I pulled over to the right side of the road and took the call. It was my mother. I forget what we talked about. Because soon after I picked up my phone, a car pulled over next to me. It was a Camero or something, some blue sporty thing. A young guy was driving with a young girl sitting next to him. They weren't teenagers, but they were younger than me. I was still on the phone, but I looked at them. They had the windows down. I sensed their fear. The driver said, "Are we being pulled over?"
Wow. I just looked at this guy. Were my lights really that bright? I guess some combination of the lights and my official looking vest and my helmet, and maybe even the phone. Or maybe his guiltiness was part of it. Jeez. I just looked at this guy and couldn't believe it. And I was still on the phone.
"No, man. I am not a cop." I could see him and the girl relax a little. They had gotten away from a beast that wasn't really there. Now they were free. But for a few moments, they were trapped and busted.
The car drove off and I finished the phone call. A very weird and wonderful moment on the side of the road. I thought about it, did a little Sherlocking, but it was hard to get any firm conclusions. People do things and people think things. Go out into the world, and things will happen.
Well, it'll make a good story, I concluded. I got back to riding. Same old road, but different thoughts. I kept thinking. It had to have been because of the lights. My lights were on the flashing mode--which kind of makes a hectic strobing that does resemble those car-top police lights. And there's the brightness. The light really carries. Like I said, bike lights are pretty bright these days.
