When I set off this morning, the air was still and thick with moisture. The trees were silent and the birdsong was muffled by the mist. Graceful little black and white ducks made delicate waves in the still water. When cars, vans and trucks thundered past, their tyres were noisy on the wet road and they sucked up micro storms in their wake, assaulting my senses and offending the silence of the forest.
The visibility wasn't great and I had to watch closely for traffic. At one point, a truck was approaching ahead and a U-Haul truck from behind. Those U-Haul trucks are the worst. I positioned myself inside the white line so that he would see there wasn't room to pass and slow down. But he didn't slow down. At the last second, I hugged the tiny sliver of hard shoulder and held my breath as he squealed past my ears - and blasted his horn, in case I hadn't noticed he was there. I used my first rude hand gesture since the start of my trip.
I rode in a bad mood for a while then saw a truck in my mirror and a car ahead. Ugh. But then came the hiss and grunt of a slowing truck! He crawled along behind me until the car passed and I gave him a cheery thumbs up and a wave. Ahh, balance is restored, along with my faith in humanity.
On one quiet stretch of road, I saw the biggest moose I've seen yet. He was perfectly still as I passed, glistening wet black coat, antlers already an impressive size, growing in for the autumn mating season.
When I was half way done for the day, it started to rain pretty hard. I pulled in at a motel shop and ate my sandwiches inside whilst chatting to the friendly proprietor. Then I steeled myself for a wet afternoon and headed back out.
All afternoon, all I could feel, see, hear, smell and taste was the rain. I alternated between feeling tired of the wet and the traffic, and laughing to myself at the insanity of it all. Haha, what am I doing?! And is this what it feels like to go mad? I'm sure a sane person wouldn't be riding along a highway in the middle of a torrential rainstorm laughing to themselves.
I saw two young moose by a river, soaked through and looking at me, perplexed. I wonder whether they mind the rain.
After 100km on the road, I made White River and dripped in the motel lobby whilst I signed in.
Hello j'ai connu ton blog grâce a Valérie et Alexys ..........j'ai lu tout tes articles de voyage, ca me motive pour me lancer........je te souhaite bonne chance et profite bien de tout ces moment que la vie t'offre.............biz
ReplyDeleteIts doing what others don't do that makes it so memorable. Laughing to yourself is a good sign and really confuses other people. Well its okay when you are young and cycling across Canada. Doing it in a meeting in Kuala Lumper or when having supper in Lanzarote gets another view. Who cares? Keep laughing in the rain. Robin
ReplyDeleteAre you sure that moose wasn't a statue in black goretex with a branch on its head