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Each day I wake up and tell myself that I'm going to take it slow... and then I end up doing between 80 and 100 miles. I'm finding that I'm not so good at conversing with strangers (on things other than the biking) because I'm so focused on moving forward... and that really bothers me. It's a shame, too, because already the whole "southern hospitality" thing is very evident in peoples' mannerisms. I'm definitely the yankee, but I'm gonna try to change that.
So, later today I'll be entering Kitty Hawk and a whole slew of campgrounds for the next couple of days. Now that I've made it to North Carolina and back to the Atlantic, I'm want to chill out, enjoy the camp fires and wander aimlessly outside of my Shimano shoes.
I think I'm due for a couple of pizzas, too. A lot times as I'm biking all I can think about is pizza... it's weird, I know. I've come to the conclusion that happiness is good food in large quantities. It could very well be that I'm sick of the granola bars though... the jury is still out.
Races:
Chuck 1, Golf cart 0
Chuck 0, School bus 1
Chuck 0, Train 1
Chuck 4, Dog 0
If I can find a Walmart or Staples or something, I'm thinking I'm going to buy a cheap t-shirt, cut off the sleeves and create a vest. On the back of it, I want to spell out a few words with the kind of lettering you'd use on your mailbox. Something to the effect of:
1) "Biking across country. I [heart] Southern Hospitality!"
2) "Biking across country. Any and all Southern Hospitality greatly appreciated! :-)"
I'm thinking that'll land me at least a story or two worth telling when all's said and done. I have a feeling that most old folks and cyclists would love to help out the bearded youngen. If I can get just one old-fashioned country couple to take me in for the night, it's already a worthwhile investment.
Thoughts?
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Forget packing my panniers with plastic bags, these babies are waterproof! German engineering scores another victory.
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