I have a lake!

This morning we woke up late and hung around the hotel until they called to kick us out just after noon. It was nice to continue taking it slow and relax.

We left town around 1:30 after breakfast (the best food either of us have ever had at Denny's) and had a leisurely ride through mountain (at least that is what they call them here) roads and more quaint little towns. We stopped in Boonville to get stamps at the Post Office. It was a nice little town, but there was a sign coming into town that said, "Christians Unite Against Abortion," and a sign on a church about celebrating 200 years in Christ or something like that. Now I'm open minded and all of that, but I was a little freaked out. On top of that, no one talked to us when they passed us on the street, but just looked at us a little sideways. It was a little un-nerving.

Leaving Boonville we crossed the Moose river, it was beautiful, and I had to stop for a photo:

From Boonville to Old Forge was a short little jaunt and the weather was getting cooler. The road was twisty and fun, and I was happy to be able to really ride the bike.

We stopped for some coffee in Old Forge to try to locate our campground, and soon discovered that coffee here is sort of a mistake. Both our lattes were watered down and weak. Mandy reminded me that this isn't home, where coffee is a way of life. We are in the land where people are content to drink warm mud puddles instead of coffee. Bummer.

We found a campsite at Nicks Lake because how could we not stay at my lake? The campground was quiet and peaceful and entirely surrounded by forest which made for great enjoyment of one of Mandy's favorite sounds - wind in deciduous trees. It was beautiful.

At night we were lucky to have clear skies got to see this:

It turns out that out here in New York the stars can be just as brilliant as New Mexico.

For a meeting we went into Old Forge to get to a 5:30 meeting but there was no one there. It turns out that the meeting had been moved to 8, so we went for food and ice cream and lazed around in town until the meeting. While we waited I noticed that this town is obviously a tourist town with a population that quadruples in the summer. I found out later that it is the same in the winter because of snowmobiling, so spring and fall are the only times that the locals have the place to themselves.

The 8 o'clock meeting was, cleverly enough, The Adirondack Group. And we met in the Social Room of the church, a fireside room filled with couches and big comfy chairs. Unfortunately the meeting was too full for Mandy and I to get comfy seats, but we managed. Being a resort town there were lots of visitors, which meant that the locals got the chance to hear new stories, and they clearly enjoyed it.

One topic that was discussed was dealing with children who are potential future members of our club. I was pleased that I could relate my experience in being the kid getting in trouble. I also got to share my gratitude for the way that my family handled me and my trouble. I appreciate that nothing was ever candy-coated, but that there was also an understanding that I would have to make my own mistakes and live my own experience in order to learn. As a result of that I have been given the opportunity to live a tremendous life and for that I will always be grateful. Thank you everyone!

Lollygagging

Monday morning Mandy and I hung around Angie's house and took it slow. We did some laundry, packed the bike, talked with Ryan, just relaxed, and it felt wonderful after the days I had just had to get to Buffalo.

We got moving out of town sometime in the early afternoon with no real destination in mind. We were planning to go toward the finger lakes, but beyond that we had no plans.

Getting out of the city was a little tricky. I didn't want to get on an Interstate, so that meant a lot of snaking through neighborhoods that appeared to have no traffic laws. There were cars going the wrong way down streets, multiple lanes of traffic on single lane roads, people everywhere. The neighborhoods changed in a block from peaceful little places with manicured yards to areas with signs offering $2500 rewards for murder convictions. We needed to get out of the city, fast.

Eventually we got out onto US 20 and things started to open up a little bit and I was able to relax again. We stopped and had some food and decided that we would try to get to the town of Penn Yan. Once off the main highway the road was flanked by farmland with old barns scattered around, and something that I didn't plan to see in New York - wind turbines:

The scenery was stunning as we wound through the hills and small towns. Every ten miles or so we rode through another quaint (the only word to describe them) little town with it's own cemetery right off the main drag, something that isn't seen nearly as much in the West.

The ride was fabulous because I got to turn the bike for a change, and there was very little traffic so we could take everything in.

We found our way into Penn Yan and got a wonderful pizza and went to the Third Tradition Group. We were late, but no one seemed to mind too much, and as is typical in small towns, they noticed us as visitors and called on us early. We felt welcomed and at home immediately.

After the meeting Sean invited us to pitch our tent in his back yard. The spot was perfect:

The conversation on the back porch that evening was fantastic. Thank you to Sean and his family for welcoming us to Penn Yan.

I woke up in the morning to the clip-clop of horse hooves on the street. It turns out that we are in a place where the Amish live near town and come into town in their little carriages. Crazy!

We started the morning with coffee and, to use Sean's words, crappy store bought danish on the back porch. Amazing hospitality.

We left town with the Adirondacks as a destination. There is a town called Speculator that sounded interesting so we pointed the bike that way. We got on US 20 and is was quickly apparent that the road was too crowded to be enjoyable. We had only gone 25 miles and we were both tired, so we stopped and I found a new course for us to take on a state route north. We had a far more pleasant ride without all the cars on the road. The roads were lined with trees and farmland again, and we were in bliss.

Around 3pm we stopped for an ice cream cone and wound up staying about an hour. (This traveling with Mandy thing is really wonderful!) We didn't stay for any reason, just hanging out.

While we were having a cup of coffee I realized that there was no way we would make it to Speculator, so we got the map and started plotting plan B. While we were looking at the map a local woman came up and really wanted to tell us where to go and what to see. This was when I noticed that people around here love to talk, but aren't much for listening. She would ask us a question and we would get a half-answer out and she would start talking again. I thought it had just been a fluke up to this point, but it's regional. After that we began to notice groups of four to six people all talking and no one listening. It's a wonder that people talk at all.

After ice cream and coffee our new destination was Rome, NY where we found the Copper City Original Group. As we were pulling up in front of the church I asked Mandy if the group out front looked like out people. She said, "Yep, these are our people, funny how we can spot each other." There are few places you will find and old Indian, two black women, three middle-aged Italian men, and a young couple visiting from Seattle (us) all in one place and getting along. These are our people!

The meeting was about fear and worry and what we do with it, a topic that was perfect for us to hear given the way our minds tend to go about things we cant control.

We got a room at the Quality Inn and holed up for a quiet evening, just the two of us. It's good to be with Mandy!

Rushed Excitement

I woke up in Columbus and I was mostly rested and ready to go, but my stomach was turning a little for no apparent reason. I sort of lagged a little as a result, and then when I got to have lunch it took forever to eat it. At one point the waitress came up and asked, "Are you even eating, honey?" I told her that I was, but that I was a little slow today. She smiled and said ok, and then left me to my lunch.

The slow lunch combined with a difficult time finding Wi-Fi made my departure from Columbus a little late. I was irritated with myself, and all I wanted was to see Mandy, but I still had several hours to go.

I ran Interstates the entire way and saw almost nothing interesting. The roads were crowded, fast, and exhausting. I was sore and tired from the day before and grateful that the ride for the day was fairly short. I wanted to be there, and the miles couldn't go by fast enough.

At some point in Kentucky and continuing up into New York I realized that the daredevil birds of the West and Southwest (you know, the ones that swoop down in front of you and get out of the way just in time) had been replaced by daredevil butterflies, and they were good. There were a couple of times that I felt like ducking to get out of the way.

Along the ride into New York I talked to very few people, but there was one kid at a gas station in Ohio that seemed really fascinated by the trip. It was apparent to me that he was the kid in High School that was not well liked, and likely picked on. My suspicion is that his family is from the poor side of town and that people treat him differently as a result. He spoke loudly and a little slurred, although it was clear that he was not drunk. Everyone working at the station seemed perfectly happy to talk to him and joke with him and I was pleased that he is now treated like a human being.

Just before crossing the state line I stopped for a break and saw this:

It is sad to me that a building is pretty as this one has a fate like this. I stood there trying to imagine what it must have been like when this was a popular stop along the drive from Cleveland to Buffalo. Sad that these things go by the wayside with our faster paced travel dynamic.

I paid my toll for I-90 and entered New York brimming with excitement to see Mandy. It had been almost a month since I had seen her, and I was anxious. When I arrived at Angie's house I was almost shaking with excitement. I understood now where my stomach issues earlier had come from. I was giddy.

I got inside the house and she looked better than I have ever seen her. She was beautiful, and her smile was glowing like it always does. We hugged and we kissed, and we hugged. It was wonderful!

Because I was running a little late we had to rush out to get to a meeting. We walked to the Why Group about a half mile away. It felt nice to be off the bike, and almost surreal to be with Mandy again. The meeting was a great mix of people in the basement of a church, and to be honest, I really have no idea what was said because I was so excited to be with Mandy.

When we got back to he house we stayed up chatting with Angie for a bit. It was wonderful to have Angie and Ryan open their home to us the way that they did. I felt instantly at home and at peace. Thanks, guys!

P.S. In my excitement I forgot to take an odometer photo. Sorry about that...

Speechless

I am fairly sure that I will not be able to capture the real magic of the last couple of days here in this post, but I will try.

Friday was sort of an up and down day all the way. Ultimate Cycle did all that they could with the bike, but without a replacement slave cylinder the bike was still crippled. I don't want to take back any of the good things that I said about the guys at that shop because they did the best that they could with what they had, and I appreciate that. They did clean the bike up for me, and for that I am grateful, she was in desperate need of a bath.

I called the central office in the morning to see about getting to a meeting at some point that day because that was still a priority for me. They were extraordinarily helpful and willing to make calls to find someone to give me a ride to a meeting. While waiting for the call back I got the bike back from the shop and found that it was worse than I expected, I could shift once I was moving, but starting and stopping was going to be tricky, so I made an appointment with the dealer in Nashville to get it repaired in the morning.

Then I started to panic. I began imagining all of the bad things that could happen while trying to get to Nashville and once in Nashville, and the result was going to be that I could not make it to Buffalo to see Mandy - I wanted to cry.

So I waited, pondered my fate and called a few people. I felt a little better after talking to people, but I really needed a meeting. Then Rodney came to the rescue. He called and said that he would be happy to come pick me up for an 8 o'clock meeting. I was relieved enough by this that I was able to take a little nap and wake up just in time for Rodney to show up.

He picked me up and we went to a meeting at the East Brainerd Club . It was a book study and a wonderful group of people. We went out for some food afterward and I felt tremendously better. Nothing like being around family to soothe my mind.

At one point Rodney and I were discussing the convention in San Antonio and he said that he knew one of the speakers. I told him that my favorite speaker was the final one on Sunday morning. He said, "Yeah, that's him. That's Steve. I know him. He's from Nashville."

Rodney said he was sure that Steve wouldn't mind him giving me his number. After all, I was family. So I went back to my room with a contact in Nashville and had one of the worst nights of sleep in my life. I was fearful, anxious, and my mind was racing about how tomorrow might go. It was terrible.

I woke up early and packed fast to get on the road. If something was going to happen on the way to Nashville I wanted it to happen early in the day. I geared up, got on the bike, said some hail mary's, pumped the clutch, shifted into first, and off I went. It had worked! I was able to powershift without the clutch and make it to Nashville. It was about a two hour ride and it went smoothly through the fog.

When I got to Nashville I got lucky with the first light and it turned green as I was approaching. The second light was red and I crept up on it as slowly as I could, but no dice, I had to stop. I pumped the clutch again and by some miracle that I may never understand it worked one last time and I was able to make it to the dealership, and salvation!

The guys at Bloodworth BMW were great. Jessie got to work on my bike right away and I went to find some breakfast. Wendall Smith's proved to a perfect little meal and great entertainment. There was an old man sitting at the counter next to me named Frank and he was obviously a regular. He would shout across the place at the waitresses and they would smile and answer him. I was feeling better and now had food in my stomach, so I knew I'd survive.

On my way back to the shop I walked past a little hair salon and decided that I had time for a haircut. (I didn't want to be too Grizzly Adams for Mandy.) I stopped in and got a cut from Moonstar, a wonderfully friendly southern woman. During the cut the phone rang in the shop. It was Johnny. After she got off the phone she explained that Johnny was an autistic man who worked at the tire store across the street. She said he was on vacation but his routine was still to call and check in with them every day. I was awestruck by the love and compassion she showed for this man whom many people would have thought to be a nuisance.

I got back to the shop and they said things were looking good and I would be ready to go in the afternoon. Before breakfast I had called Steve and left a message to see if he was around. By the time I got back to the shop he had called back and left a message for me. We were playing phone tag. We got hold of each other finally and made a plan for him to come pick me up for an 11:30 meeting! This couldn't happen anywhere else. (I had a brief thought about what the people in the dealership thought about me being in a town I didn't know and then suddenly having a local show up and treat me like an old friend and take me away. If I didn't know what was happening I would have thought that a little strange.)

Steve picked me up and I had the chance to thank him for what he had said the week before. I had wanted to that day, but couldn't fight through all the people to get to him. I may not believe in the dude in the sky every day, but there's gotta be something that helps line these things up.

The meeting was the Westminster Group, a little discussion meeting filled with joy and delight in sobriety. It was the perfect way for me to spend my time in Nashville. Thanks, Steve!

When I got back to the shop the bike was ready. I thanked the guys in the shop (Justin wanted me to make sure that you all know what well-mannered and handsome guys they are.) I even got to take a look at the culprit:

All the sludgy goop is what made it stop working.

So I was on the road again with a functional clutch and a goal of getting to Ohio. If I made it my day would look something like this: Start in Tennessee on Eastern time, cross through Georgia and into Central time, then back into Tennessee still in central time, then into Kentucky and the change back to Eastern somewhere there, then into Ohio. The states are a lot smaller over here, and it makes me feel like I am making more progress than I really am.

At around 8 o'clock I was getting hungry and stopped outside Cincinnati for a meal. I found a mallish looking place and pulled up in front of a burger joint, but want really feeling like eating a burger. I looked across the way and saw a little sandwich place, Potbelly. I went in and was greeted by Lindsay, and incredibly perky and sweet girl. "You look like you're on a bike," she paused and looked closer, "and you look tired."

I was getting tired, but was hungry more than anything. I told her about the trip and what I was doing, and she got so excited I thought she might jump out of her skin. She and her co-worker, Maddy, were enthralled with my story and kept asking questions. It was the perfect way to be refueled physically and spiritually to get me to Columbus. If you're ever in Cincinnati go find the Potbelly sandwich shop north of town in a mall. They fed me great food and made me feel incredibly welcome in their place. Thanks, Lindsay and Maddy!

I made it to Columbus and found what I believe to be the last available room in town due to a giant hot rod show in town, and slept better than I thought I could.

Thank you to all the folks along the way who turned two of the hardest days of the trip into two of the most rewarding and wonderful ones!

Georgia? Really!?

Alright, so I didn't make it to a meeting today, and I don't have an odometer photo, but I'll get to that.

First things first - the ride. I left Tupelo, MS this morning and headed north on the Natchez Trace based on the recommendation of a local Tupeloian? Tupelite? Tupelese man?…whatever. I took the Trace north into Alabama, then got off and rode a fairly hot and ugly four lane US highway for what seemed like forever. I saw almost nothing of interest, but for the sake of laughing at myself, it took me most of the way through the state to realize that places with Bama in the name were referring to the state and not something to do with the president. Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake.

I also noticed along the way that I was entering a different time. The buildings were mostly stone or brick and built in a style that we don't get to see on the West Coast. They are truly beautiful. It was sort of nice to be riding through a bunch of structures built by people with true pride in their work. Not that builders today don't have the same pride about their job, but it felt different to me somehow.

Somewhere near Albertville, AL I stopped for a break and met Crazy Bob, a biker riding a police special Harley. "Long way from home, arncha?" He asked. We go to talking and he was one of the first people I've encountered in the South that I could understand when he spoke. (I didn't realize that it was going to be so hard to talk to people here.) We talked about the trip, Deal's Gap in North Carolina, and staying alive on the road, the usual bike talk. It was nice to have someone walk up and start talking because I had been in my own head most of the day and was starting to get a little sideways. He informed me that I was almost to Chattanooga, my destination for the day, and to be careful for the next 20 miles because people don't pay attention on these roads. And he gave me this:

Bob was right, along the stretch of highway to get back out of civilization I watched several people drift in and out of lanes while talking on the phone, nearly not stop at stop lights for lack of paying attention, and my favorite was the guy driving with his knee and leaned over toward the passenger's side for something. It was a little terrifying.

But it paid off when I got onto the smaller roads through the countryside and quickly noticed that I have almost forgotten how to turn the bike since I haven't seen a road turn for what feels like weeks. Suddenly there were turns in the road and I was actually traversing hills (yes, hills!). It was fantastic! I was riding along and the GPS told me I was about 40 minutes from the meeting in Chattanooga and I thought to myself, "I should be crossing into Tennessee at any minute". A few blinks later I passed a sign saying "Welcome to Georgia." What?! How the hell did I get into Georgia? I didn't see that one coming. I guess that's what I get for blindly following the GPS and not looking at a map.

As I was riding along the road I looked to my right and I saw this:

The first canyon-like thing since at least Texas. Then I got to ride down into it! It was only about a quarter mile, but the road actually turned! It was phenomenal. Then up the valley and into Chattanooga!

I got into town and went to find a meeting. I got to the address I had and no one was there. (This is becoming a theme.) So I got another address and off I went and that's when things got weird. I was pulling up to a stoplight and I pulled the clutch and…nothing. Shit! Luckily I was about to get onto the freeway and I didn't need to stop, so I got on the freeway and forced shifts to ride into town. As I was getting off the exit to go to the meeting I was hoping that I wouldn't have to stop at any lights, and then the first one was red. Double shit! I tried to see if I could get going but it was hopeless so I pushed the bike into a gas station and started trying to figure out what I was going to do. At this point a meeting was out (hence the missed meeting) so I was working on finding a place to get the bike towed to.

First thing I did was call Steve in Texas to see if he knew anyone. He said he didn't, but he did help me to troubleshoot the bike over the phone and establish where I stood. He said that I could certainly do it myself, but I allowed as how doing that in a parking lot in horribly humid 100 degree weather was just not something I was willing to do if I could avoid it.

After searching for a BMW dealership and all manner of other things I found these guys. I called and they had someone there within 30 minutes. It was awesome! Speedy was driving the truck, an altered moving truck with a brilliant lift setup in the back to haul the bike in. (Speedy built the truck by the way.) He reassured me that their mechanics were good and that the dealership had some issues, so I was comforted that I had done the right thing. We got the bike to the shop and then he even gave me a ride to a hotel! Frickin' awesome! Thanks guys!

So here I am, stuck in Chattanooga, TN waiting for the next indicated thing. For now I will eat and sleep soundly knowing that the guys at Ultimate Cycle and Scooter have my back and will get me on the road as soon as they can.

Tracing Mississippi

This morning I was headed east of the Mississippi! It was like crossing into a whole new territory, more places I've never seen. Crossing the river, however, was not nearly as exciting as I thought it would be. I was expecting a bridge similar to the Astoria Bridge earlier in the trip, but it was just a short little thing, and the river was pretty much a big mud puddle. But I was on the east side! I'd made it to Mississippi.

I had been looking at the map last night to see where to go and found the Natchez Trace Parkway, so I took a left at Jackson, MS and headed up one of the coolest roads I have ever seen. Every state needs to have a road like this. It's a National Park, so there are neat things to see all along it, they don't allow any commercial vehicles on it, so there are no trucks, and there is almost no traffic at all! Sure, the speed limit is only 50, and it was mostly straight, but it was totally worth going slower to not have to deal with traffic. A lot of the road looked like this:

So, the story of the Trace is that it was the old way to travel from Nashville, TN to Natchez, MS…on foot. It was a trail that was used by the Native Americans in the area and then later used by the white man to get back and forth. People would bring their goods down the rivers on log rafts to sell in Natchez or New Orleans, and then sell the rafts for lumber and make the 445 mile hike back to Nashville, or somewhere in-between.

Along the way there were primitive inns and stops for essentials, but it was still pretty much wilderness. They say that most of the old Trace looked like this:

Can you imagine hiking 450 miles just to get home with some money just to start the trip all over again? The ingenuity of human beings, and especially Americans is truly remarkable. And then you would encounter things like this along the way (without the bridge of course):

It is a Cypress swamp, and although I have carved a Cypress knee I had forgotten that they grow in swamps.

It was surprising how still it was in there. It was as though nothing had moved for years. I kept hearing frogs jump into the water, but never actual got to see one. I would turn around to look and not even see a ripple in the water. Eerie.

Toward the end of the Trace I met Danielle, a Canadian also riding a motorcycle around the US. Her trip is a little more aimless than mine, but it was fun to talk about the things we have encountered. It was reassuring to hear that someone else felt that from Northeast Texas on has felt less friendly than the West and Southwest. I had thought that it was just me. It's not that all the people I have seen are jerks or anything, but simply that I have had less free-flowing interaction with strangers the last few days. It was nice to meet Danielle and feel that I am not the only one out doing this. Check out her blog!

When I got to Tupelo, MS I went to find a meeting. I found one, and waited until 8pm but no one showed. Then I remembered that there was another 8pm meeting in Tupelo, so I got an address, and went searching. And search I did. The address was for the hospital, with the extra direction that it was in the rehab building. I figured that was easy enough, but I didn't know that it was the Northern Mississippi Regional Hospital, and therefore gigantic! I drove in circles for at least 30 minutes before I found the signs with our logo on them, and then went and tried every door on the building and couldn't get in. Just as I was about to leave I saw the one door I hadn't tried, and it led into a warehouse and then into the rehab building. Just like us to be stuck in a corner where no one can find us. Needless to say, I was late, but it didn't matter because I got a chance to hear a few people speak and share a bit myself. I also had the chance to remind myself that I have gone to much farther lengths to find a drink. It was nice to be among the family again in a new place. Thanks, Fellowship Group!

Out of place

You will all be happy to know that I was not carried into the swamp by centipedes and eaten by alligators, I just had a mostly peaceful nights sleep in the hot stickiness of Huntsville State Park. But then I got to wake up to this:

The park was pretty peaceful in the morning without all the unknown critters hiding in the shadows. I did notice, though, that the squirrels moved extra slow in the park. I am going to say that it is a result of the heat. All that fur and the heat cannot feel good.

As I was leaving Texas I realized something that I forgot to mention earlier about the state, the highway system. First of all, the speed limits are almost all at least 75 mph. I am pretty sure that it's because the state is so damn big and it takes forever to get anywhere even if you are going 80. But more importantly, the signage is strange. Anti-littering signs actually say "Don't Mess With Texas," and signs that say "Obey Warning Signs - State Law" are seen all over the place. It makes me wonder why they need to post those signs… Most of the warning signs are pretty much understandable; yellow diamonds with a fire truck to indicate a fire station, warnings about reduced speed limits, "Share The Road" signs with a picture of a motorcycle, sharp right or left turn warnings, etc. All pretty easy to understand and obey. Then they throw a wrench at you, a yellow diamond warning sign that says "Church." What the hell am I supposed to do to obey that? Are they telling me to go? Do they want me to slow down and pay my respects? What is it that they want from me here? I want to "Obey Warning Signs," but I am unsure what I am being told to do… Ahh, Texas.

I got out of Texas fairly quickly today and found myself in Louisiana in the rain. I wound up completely soaked by the time I reached Leesville, so I stopped to change into dry clothes and put on my rain gear, and then it stopped raining. Damn!

I rode on and stopped in Alexandria (It is worth noting that the next town over from Alexandria is Ball, LA) for something to eat. I wound up going into a place called the American Grill because I really needed to eat. It was an old Quizno's that had been converted into a "grill." I am not entirely sure what all they served, but the recommended the cheeseburger because it was soaked in Au Jus. And they were right, it was pretty awesome. And way better than any Quizno's I have ever been to! Hands down.

I quickly realized that I am the minority here in Louisiana, which is not bad, just an observation, and something that I am really unaccustomed to. On top of that, just being in the South is a little weird for me. Up to this point on the trip I have been in places that are more or less familiar to me, but this is all new to me, and strange.

Toward the end of the day I got to ride on some smaller country roads and see the farm land and bayou a little bit. This place in fascinating! There is so much water! And Alison was right, it's a different kind of green here than I have ever seen.

It turns out that there is some kind of relationship between cattle and cranes here:

I am unsure what it means, but they are paired up all over the place.

I was also struck by the amount of junk that has been put to good use around here. Unlike some other rural parts of the country where there are little piles of junk in the middle of fields, they have made things useful:

It makes me wonder how many times that field was plowed with that plow before it was retired to gatehood.

I was struck with several opportunities to be grateful for my life today, I saw a lot of people buying single tall boy beers in brown bags. I know that this happens all over the place, but this is the first time on the trip that it has been so in my face. I mean, I even saw a guy in the passenger's seat of a car taking pulls off a liquor bottle. It makes me extra cautious about other people's driving to say the least.

I wound up attending the Delhi (pronounced Del Hi) Group tonight. I first went to the address I got online, and it was a locked up warehouse. So I went back to a gas station to do some research and when I got off the bike I saw Bruce. I didn't know he was Bruce yet, but I did know that the blue book he was carrying looked familiar. I asked him where the meeting was and he pointed to the church across the street! Brilliant!

The meeting was great, although it was a podium meeting, and I still get a little panicked about standing up in front of everyone. I had a very nice time at the Delhi group, and was grateful that it had decided to rain only when we were in the meeting.

I finished the day with a chicken fried steak at a truck stop diner. Dude bless America! What else can I say.

Oh, right. I was also greeted by this guy here in Delhi:

"Welcome to Louisiana!"

And one last thing. Forget about brain injury and death and all of that, I would still wear a full face helmet because of this:

I would think it was the bird size moth from last night if not for the sharp "crack" it made hitting me.