September 5 & 6: "The end of my ride, but the start of my troubles."
Oh my. It has been quite a while since I've updated last. Please forgive me, but I've just emerged from a ditch on the side of State Route 93 where I've been trapped under a pile of logs that broke loose from a truck that was driving past me while en route to the Wayne. At least now I smell like cedar ...
Of course, THAT WAS A JOKE, MOM!
I stayed the night in Gallipolis at the William Ann Motel on September 5 (the date of my last post). As I was leaving the library, I chatted with the librarians who told me two things. 1. There ain't much between Gallipolis and the Wayne, so eat before you leave, and 2. there's a great hotdog place called "Remo's" right down the street. After a footlong with the works (which includes hot sauce), I said, "Well now, this is really a pretty town. Lots of old buildings, historical signs, a nice park - and it is fifty miles yet to the Wayne - I'll stay here the night." Got a room, stowed my bike, TOOK A SHOWER, laid around watching TV, then headed out for dinner.
I ended up eating country fried steak at the Parkside Restaurant and Bakery, served at the counter by a cute blonde with a charming southern accent. Next door to the bar for a beer, where I met Matt, a thirty-something (looks like 28, his words) Gallipolis native just moving back after some hard times. Shot some pool and back to the room where I flipped between about three different movies (The Dirty Dozen is the only one I remember) until bed about 11.
Got up and rode to the Wayne, after a quick breakfast at Parkside that is (again served by a cute blonde ...). Hot day. Stopped in at the Waterloo post office for a water refil (coincidentally it's located across the street from a grocery). Up and down hills until I couldn't take it any longer, and just when I was feeling real defeated, I spotted the end of the road up ahead.
Well, the Ranger Station wasn't far from that point, and I rolled in to check it out pleased as punch that I'd really made it. And I talked a bit to the receptionist and bought another map (I'm always finding new maps to buy). And as I was pulling out of the parking lot on my way to the Lake Vesuvius and my buddy Ryan, I notice my tire is flat!!
"@#%!," I said. "Well if that ain't a convenient place to get a flat. But here I am with no way to fix it!" Because I actually left Athens without a patch kit or a spare inner tube. Now, I remembered that I didn't pack those things right when I was headed out my front door, but I said I sure ain't going back for it now. I just want to leave. So there I was with a flat and nothing to do about it.
So, I walked my bike over to the place I new Ryan was living. I knew it because I'd talked to a ranger up near Athens, Chad, who happened to be Ryan's supervisor, and I told him about my trip and he pointed out on the map where the trailer is that Ryan stays in. So, I walk about a mile over there, and on the way I'm passed by about 6 Wayne National Forest pickup trucks and not one stopped to see what was the matter. I mean, there I was with a pack on my back walking a bike up and down the hills and not one truck so much as beeped or pulled over to see if I needed help. And I was saying to myself, "Those rangers spend all their time telling me what I can't do in the forest that MY TAX MONEY pays for and trying to squeeze another dollar out of me all the while. And, I gladly buy their maps and obey [most of] their rules, but when I need a bit of help - when I'm walking on the side of the road - they won't even stop to see it they can help me! What a selfish lot they are!"
So, I wasn't too fond of rangers at that point, and I would've given one a few choice words if I had the chance. But, I kept going and I got to Ryan's place and I called over a ranger to find out which trailer was Ryan's.
"Well, Ryan's not here," he says. "He's in Athens sick."
And then the incredible irony of the situation sets in. I've ridden one hundred miles from Athens under a summer sun to come to the forest and visit with my buddy but he's back where I started from AND HE'S BEEN THERE SINCE BEFORE I LEFT!!!
"Well, if that don't beat all," I said to the ranger, "and a flat tire to boot!"
"Well, if you don't mind waiting a bit, I could give you a ride into Walmart so you can get something to fix it," said the ranger whose name is Chad Kirschbaum.
Well, he and I sure did ride into Walmart and I bought a patch kit and inner tube and some camping food. And, he offered me his spare bedroom at his house! So, I gladly accepted and went back to his place. And he and his wife, Keri, both work at the Wayne and they live in Kentucky. So, after all that cursing about rangers I stayed the night with two and their dog, and they fed me and gave me a towel to shower. And the next morning before the sun had even risen, I was back in Chad's truck headed to the Wayne. And he dropped me off at Lake Vesuvius and went on his way. So now I'm watching the sunlight grow over the lake and reckoning all the kindness I've recieved, and my thoughts turn to fixing that damn tire.
Of course, THAT WAS A JOKE, MOM!
I stayed the night in Gallipolis at the William Ann Motel on September 5 (the date of my last post). As I was leaving the library, I chatted with the librarians who told me two things. 1. There ain't much between Gallipolis and the Wayne, so eat before you leave, and 2. there's a great hotdog place called "Remo's" right down the street. After a footlong with the works (which includes hot sauce), I said, "Well now, this is really a pretty town. Lots of old buildings, historical signs, a nice park - and it is fifty miles yet to the Wayne - I'll stay here the night." Got a room, stowed my bike, TOOK A SHOWER, laid around watching TV, then headed out for dinner.
I ended up eating country fried steak at the Parkside Restaurant and Bakery, served at the counter by a cute blonde with a charming southern accent. Next door to the bar for a beer, where I met Matt, a thirty-something (looks like 28, his words) Gallipolis native just moving back after some hard times. Shot some pool and back to the room where I flipped between about three different movies (The Dirty Dozen is the only one I remember) until bed about 11.
Got up and rode to the Wayne, after a quick breakfast at Parkside that is (again served by a cute blonde ...). Hot day. Stopped in at the Waterloo post office for a water refil (coincidentally it's located across the street from a grocery). Up and down hills until I couldn't take it any longer, and just when I was feeling real defeated, I spotted the end of the road up ahead.
Well, the Ranger Station wasn't far from that point, and I rolled in to check it out pleased as punch that I'd really made it. And I talked a bit to the receptionist and bought another map (I'm always finding new maps to buy). And as I was pulling out of the parking lot on my way to the Lake Vesuvius and my buddy Ryan, I notice my tire is flat!!
"@#%!," I said. "Well if that ain't a convenient place to get a flat. But here I am with no way to fix it!" Because I actually left Athens without a patch kit or a spare inner tube. Now, I remembered that I didn't pack those things right when I was headed out my front door, but I said I sure ain't going back for it now. I just want to leave. So there I was with a flat and nothing to do about it.
So, I walked my bike over to the place I new Ryan was living. I knew it because I'd talked to a ranger up near Athens, Chad, who happened to be Ryan's supervisor, and I told him about my trip and he pointed out on the map where the trailer is that Ryan stays in. So, I walk about a mile over there, and on the way I'm passed by about 6 Wayne National Forest pickup trucks and not one stopped to see what was the matter. I mean, there I was with a pack on my back walking a bike up and down the hills and not one truck so much as beeped or pulled over to see if I needed help. And I was saying to myself, "Those rangers spend all their time telling me what I can't do in the forest that MY TAX MONEY pays for and trying to squeeze another dollar out of me all the while. And, I gladly buy their maps and obey [most of] their rules, but when I need a bit of help - when I'm walking on the side of the road - they won't even stop to see it they can help me! What a selfish lot they are!"
So, I wasn't too fond of rangers at that point, and I would've given one a few choice words if I had the chance. But, I kept going and I got to Ryan's place and I called over a ranger to find out which trailer was Ryan's.
"Well, Ryan's not here," he says. "He's in Athens sick."
And then the incredible irony of the situation sets in. I've ridden one hundred miles from Athens under a summer sun to come to the forest and visit with my buddy but he's back where I started from AND HE'S BEEN THERE SINCE BEFORE I LEFT!!!
"Well, if that don't beat all," I said to the ranger, "and a flat tire to boot!"
"Well, if you don't mind waiting a bit, I could give you a ride into Walmart so you can get something to fix it," said the ranger whose name is Chad Kirschbaum.
Well, he and I sure did ride into Walmart and I bought a patch kit and inner tube and some camping food. And, he offered me his spare bedroom at his house! So, I gladly accepted and went back to his place. And he and his wife, Keri, both work at the Wayne and they live in Kentucky. So, after all that cursing about rangers I stayed the night with two and their dog, and they fed me and gave me a towel to shower. And the next morning before the sun had even risen, I was back in Chad's truck headed to the Wayne. And he dropped me off at Lake Vesuvius and went on his way. So now I'm watching the sunlight grow over the lake and reckoning all the kindness I've recieved, and my thoughts turn to fixing that damn tire.
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