It’s official. Today is the one month anniversary of the day that Cricket and I hopped on the road together. To celebrate I’m giving a nice little highlight reel…in a list (surprise, surprise).
1. I love a good mountain bike ride, which is why one of the only possessions that made it onto the packing list was my bright green Cannondale. In Cheraw, South Carolina I discovered that you know who else really likes my mountain bike? Wild dogs…a pack of them…that chased me for a 1/4 mile…at the end of my 7 mile ride…in sand. I might as well just add that it was uphill-both-ways-in-the-snow-barefoot.
There’s nothing like the motivation of a rabid animal’s breath at your heels to make you ponder life questions such as “Can I realistically kick one dog while jumping from my bike, land and fend off two more while using said bike as a shield?”
2. While in Saluda, North Carolina, I was invited to a silent meditation group. I’ll give you a minute with that (silent + Darla = mass confusion). I went and I’ll have you know that I was silent for the whole hour and then I chanted in Hindi for another hour. All in a hut in the woods in North Carolina with a bunch of strangers devoted to a guru I had never heard of. I’m telling you…this living on the road thing is FULL of entertaining new experiences.
3. On the way to Greenville, South Carolina I saw a sign that I could not ignore. I peeled into the parking lot, walked across the wood porch, threw open the door and found myself smack in the middle of rebel flag central…shirts, books, belt-buckles, shot glasses, baby bibs…
Chalk it up to the journalist in me, but I am just so freakin’ curious about everything…even Dixieland culture. Sometime later I peeled myself away. And, don’t worry, as hard as the gentleman behind the counter tried, I did pass on the rebel flag bikini.
4. I bought genuine cowboy boots and do you know what? I may never take them off.
5. I drove the Tail of the Dragon, a section of US 129 in Tennessee, on my way to Decatur, Georgia. FYI, Tennessee is NOT on the way to Decatur unless you decide to take 10 hours for a drive that’s really, oh, about 3. “The Dragon” (as it is affectionately known by bikers and sports car enthusiasts) has 318 turns in 11 miles.
It’s intense. So intense that there are professional photographers at various corners to snap shots of your ability to take turns at high speeds in a 1986 BMW with a manual transmission and a mountain bike on the roof while bikes whip by your window and corvettes kiss your back bumper. And the end of the 11 miles there’s a nice little scenic overlook to stretch those shaky legs and make some new friends:
Burly Harley Dude: “Whatcha’ think of that stretch of road?”
Smiling Perky Darla in her favorite strapless-minidress and cowboy boots: “I think the next time I’m on it I’ll be on the back of a bike.”
Burly Harley Dude with Snickering Buddies: “Well, hell…I’ll take you for a ride up and back.”
Still Super-Smiley and Unfailingly Perky Darla: “Really? That would be awesome!”
Pause…what was that that everyone said about “being safe” and “cautious” and “not jumping on the back of a strange man’s Harley?” I feel like there was some advice that my Dad gave me in this situation…hmmm…what was it again?
6. Remember how I said that thing about car trouble? Well, Cricket’s got her quirks
for sure. Sometimes her sunroof doesn’t close and you have to give it a little yank on the passenger side to nudge it along. Other times the driver’s side door doesn’t want to close on the first try or the trunk takes a couple (dozen) slams to stay latched (and even occasionally likes to pop open).
The emergency brake needs a pen shoved in to release it because the button has wandered somewhere deep inside. The odometer and temp gauge? Permanent vacation. Radio? Well, it’s there and it turns on, but no sound comes out. That’s what portable iPod speakers are for, right? She also like to jump when she idles. She purrs somewhere between 900 and 1400 rpms when sitting at a light. My theory is that Cricket’s just always rearing to go…kinda like me. “Why are we just sitting here? Let’s get moving already!”
The real “trouble” came when she blew a water pump and I had to shut her off, throw the e-brake up, pop the hood and let her calm down enough to get some water in the coolant tank. All in the left hand lane of a four-lane road…in a dress…and cowboy boots. I swear I have never seen so many men willing to bring traffic to a screeching halt.
And, P.S. I didn’t ride on the back of the Harley, Dad…although it took a lot of restraint to turn the offer down.
