I lost my banana yesterday. Where exactly, I don’t know. One minute it was hitching a ride on the back of my bike, the next minute, it was gone. I really wanted that banana.
Now It’s six o’clock in the morning. I slept for the better part of twelve hours, falling into my sleeping bag-bed early, underneath the desert moon. As I drifted off, I heard the sound of coyotes causing a ruckus not to far off from my roadside campsite. It’s only Jo and I out here. Jo barks back at them. He’s guarding our houseless home. Good boy.
And now I’m sitting here in the desert, well rested, writing from a seat I made in the sandy gravel. My camp is all packed up, and in a few minutes I’ll be pedaling into a headwind. It’s really windy today.
Yesterday’s adventure took us 41.75 miles, first through farm lands, leaving town, then out into the barren desert. The sign on the highway told me it was about ninety miles to civilization, or to the next coffee shop.
The wind on my back did not exist. The hills were long, the sun was bright, and the air was cool. My mood was happy.
Jo stays in the trailer when the road ahead is flat or descending. He hops out when we approach a hill. But he’s always anxious to get out and share the ride with me, usually barking, woofing from inside his wagon, signaling me that he’d like to run. Shoeless Jo is a wonderful traveling companion.
At a lookout, I noticed from the road, a large group of people gathered. And a camel. Am I in Egypt? No, I’m in Glamis California and today a crew is shooting a music video, something about Fast and The Furious. They were intrigued by the story of my coast to coast bike ride.
I had trusted the kid at Starbucks who had told me I would find water in Glamis, thirty two miles down the road. But there was no water, no sign of this magical oasis he had mentioned, a “Chevron”. Nope, the desert is dry. And so was I as I reached the thirty five mile marker, my water bottles both empty. And Jo’s were empty too.
As the sun was beginning to set, I pedaled one handed, waiving my water container at cars that passed. One man, Mike, an angel no doubt, flipped around and offered me his H20, and some cranberry juice! He really saved the day, and helped me out on this next leg. We sat on the side of the road chatting it up, introducing our dogs.
Mike is from Ocean Beach, the place where I started pedaling from. He was driving the rest of the way home last night. It’ll take him less than three hours to get there. It took me five days to cover the same distance on a bike.
I wonder if he’ll spot my banana out on the highway somewhere?