Day 8 – We Make The News
Tuesday, October 28th
Bogalusa, LA to Mobile, AL
I’m actually writing this on Wednesday. Yesterday was such a long day that once we made it to our motel, I fell asleep while waiting to take a shower, then again while waiting for our pizza delivery guy, then again for the evening after making a few notes for the day’s post. But I guess sleepy is what you get when you bike across Mississippi in a day. =)
We left from Bogalusa just after dawn when it was about 33 degrees (F) outside. Starting on our second week of riding, we took LA 10, which turns into MS 26 at the state line. There was no shoulder, but the road was in good condition and once we were a few miles outside the city, there was little enough traffic so the cars could get around us easily.
I had stretched a lot before we left, but obviously not enough – my knees were in quite a bit of pain. I couldn’t create any power on the bike, pushing or spinning, but I hoped that it was just a matter of waiting for my legs to warm up. In the meantime, I relied heavily on the motor to pull me through the traffic and up the hills we encountered. When we had gone about ten miles and my knees weren’t doing any better, Dad and I stopped to try to stretch them again (and to give him a chance to pee).
While we massaged muscle cream onto my knees and stretched my legs for several minutes, a dog sneaked up to watch us. He barked at us a few times when we made eye contact, then he padded up to us for some attention. He was a healthy mutt with a pitbull’s head and a beautiful coat – probably a runaway rather than a stray. He hung around looking to be petted and scratched, started to come along with us, then changed his mind and took off across the road in search of more adventures, brimming with curiosity.
Setting off again along 26, we hit several rolling hills, and though my knees still ached they were finally beginning to warm up. Our small breakfast of instant oatmeal wore off quickly, so we pulled off at a truck stop in Poplarville and ordered some fried chicken and fried potato wedges. Not exactly the brunch of champions, but in the nearly freezing weather, we were desperate for some hot food. While we downed our meal, we enjoyed the company of a couple of older truck drivers who had stopped for coffee. They talked about their bikes they hadn’t riden in a long time, shook their heads in disbelief as we told them about our trip, and wished us luck on our ride.
About 25 miles down the road, my knees and our bladders were ready for another break. We stopped at a gas station in Wiggins, MS and as I went in to use the facilities and grab a drink, Dad talked to an older man who was sitting outside and a younger guy who had pulled up in his SUV to check out the bikes. When Dad explained we were heading to Florida from Texas, the SUV guy was amazed and exclaimed, “I gotta call my girlfriend!” She turned out to be an employee of a local newspaper, so they sent someone down to interview us. The reporter didn’t bring much other than the obvious questions (Where are you going? Where are you from? Why are you doing this?, etc.) but she did, unfortunately, pack a camera.
In the dim chill of the morning, between shivering and tooth chattering, I had donned most of the cold weather gear I packed. This happened to include my magenta tights. Cyclists aren’t known for their fashion in the first place, but I was not helping the cause in my brown shoes, black socks, magenta tights, white shirt, green bandana, black neckwarmer and blue helmet. Naturally, it would be on this day, in this garb, that my picture get be taken to be published. Thankfully, the picture has my dad standing right beside me in his tights (not magenta, fyi) so at least I’m not alone. The reporter’s final question was: “How long will you be in Wiggins?” and we answered, “A few more minutes” then packed up and got back on the road.
Aside from their timid reporter, what struck me about Wiggins were the drivers. Leaving town, we were surrounded by the most polite drivers we’ve met on the trip. They were careful to give us plenty of room in every direction and to proceed slowly and cautiously around us. There was one truck – the exception to the rule – who was a jerk, but that’s why I say “If you’re going to drive a truck…”[see Day 5, Paragraph 6]. We even got a wave, a honk and a smile from an older lady.
Since I depended on the motor so much in the morning, another 15 miles down the road I was beginning to worry about whether the batteries would last until Mobile. To be on the safe side, we stopped to charge batteries in Benndale. We were disappointed with how plodding our progress had been all day, but we were both chilled by the wind and exhausted from all the hills along 26. While waiting on the batteries, a big guy in red suspenders came up to talk to us. Once he found out we were headed East, he couldn’t wait to tell us about the gigantic hill we were going to run into in about three miles. He also tried to give us advice on getting to Mobile, but it was a bit dubious when his first recommendation was to ride 98 into the city. We explained that we were really hoping to stay on the back roads, and you could see his brain recalculating. It was kind of him to try to help us, but we ended up sticking with our original plan which we had formed using a combination of Southern Tier maps, Google maps and our GPS’ recommendations.
The first part of our route to Mobile took us off 26 to Southbound 63. what a glorious ride! For the first time that day, we had a tailwind! More importantly, MS 63 is a beautiful road: wide lanes, a luscious median, gently rolling hills and smooth asphalt. Our most comfortable ride yet; completely without parallel. If you are ever in Mississippi with your bicycle, go out of your way to ride this road – it’s truly a pleasure. After a long, cold day of fighting hills and crosswinds, we were all smiles on 63. Unfotunately, we only got to ride it for about four miles.
We took Cooks Corner Rd and zigzagged to 613 and 612, heading for the Tanner Williams area. We stopped to use the restroom, get a drink and make sure we were on the right track a gas station/grocery store in the country. A sweet attendant introduced us to one of the store’s patron, whom she claimed knew the backroads to Mobile well. We took note of his suggestions, then continued on our route. We had reservations a few miles from the Mobile airport, but our GPS had trouble getting us there. It said that one of the roads on the route we compiled didn’t connect across the Mississippi/Alabama state line. It rerouted us about ten miles off track, along a gravely road that turned out to be a dead end. We back tracked and eventually found our way across the state line, but by that time the sun was getting low and the air was getting cooler.
We took the advice of the patron to take a certain road when cutting over to the street with our motel on it, and found it to be a narrow, two-lane road with fast, angry traffic and no shoulder. Since it was almost dark, we slowed our speed quite a bit. Luckily, the road wasn’t too torn up for us to travel. The street to our motel, however, was.
We stopped at a gas station to figure our options. The GPS said we had about 8 miles to get to our motel, but the gas station workers laughed at that figure and said it was more like 15 or 20 miles. The street to the motel was another narrow, two-lane road, but this one was in horrible condition and had even more traffic than the last, so we camped out at the gas station, refueling and reheating ourselves, hoping for someone with a truck to come by. We got in a coversation with a guy whose friend had a truck. He offered to let us stay at his place, but we asked if his friend would be willing to give us a lift since we already had motel reservations. They agreed and said they were going to run back to his friend’s house, less than three miles away, pull his friend’s lasagna out of the oven and come back with the truck. After about 45 minutes of waiting for them to return, we gave up on those guys. (The lasagna was probably too good to ignore.)
We milled around a bit more and got incredibly lucky when a guy with a truck walked in and noticed we were in a bit of a desperate situation. He offered to give us a lift, told his gal (waiting in the truck) his plan and helped us load up the bikes in the truck bed. This couple was amazing. They both cycle and it sounds like the guy is pretty avid about it. We had a wonderful conversation in the truck on the way to the motel about our trip and his experience with bicycles. He mentioned that he had been in a car wreck that nearly took his right arm off. He was told by his doctors that he wouldn’t regain full use of his arm or shoulder; he’d never be able to go hunting or fishing again. But he rehabilitated and proved them all wrong. After such a hard day, it was inspiring to meet someone with such generosity, kindness and perseverance. They both really lifted my spirits. Art and Brandi: thank you so much for saving us!
Since it was late when we finally checked into our motel and we could barely walk, we had limited dinner options. Pizza turned out to be the only food we could get delivered and though it wasn’t the food our bodies wanted, it was at least food.
Just before going to bed, I checked my mail and had received another email from one of the software department managers at Garmin. She had replied to my phone call (from Day 0) a couple days after and we had been conversing since. Though still frustrated at their packaging practices, I am impressed at all she did to help us out. Without question, she offered us a full refund, then agreed to mail us a preloaded SD card instead if we mail in the DVD we purchased. She dealt with our disappointment quickly and completely, all while being polite. It’s a rare experience in this corporate world to have a problem solved of so promptly. Thank you Lynn at Garmin.
Today’s Quick Stats:
Bike Distance (mi) Average Speed (mph)
MiniWini 115.10 17.0
Sti(ck/g) 114.85 17.1
Stampedes: 2
Roadside Pees: 1