The last time I visited with them was in February, when I was riding through, with The Young Philanthropists... I remember we were riding our bicycles down the highway when I noticed signs for Weatherford. The landmarks started to become very familiar. I realized we were headed down the same route my parents would take every Sunday to visit my grandparents... Long story short, the group was kind enough to take a detour for lunch, to pop in and meet my grandparents on our way out of DFW.
My grandmother and I talked about what I was doing back out on the road. She asked about my safety. She asked about my plan. She asked to keep her updated.
I had more or less an answer for all of her concerns.
After a couple of hours, Mom, Jamie, and I continued on to Jacksboro...home of Fort Richardson.
The car ride was quiet. timid. anxious.
Most of me felt bad for making my mom drive me out to Jacksboro. I felt like it was almost pure torture to make her do that. The other part of me thought it was progressive. healthy. strengthening. encouraging. For her and my brother.
I was eager to start the next step of my trip. camping. alone.
As we drove up to the park, Mom told me her dad, Grandpa Lester, always wanted to come see the Texas Forts...he probably never will. I am glad I get to see it, and take some pictures for him along the way. I am glad my mom tells me these things about her family... the Lester's never were good at connecting... just lots of small talk... We still struggle to visit and dig deep into conversation with one another... I do appreciate the thick skin I inherited from that man.
It was nice to camp again.
The fresh air. The sounds of the wild. The multiplying colors in the sky.
I think all the boy scout troops around calmed Mom's nerves a bit.
To be honest. I was a bit scared. A bit nervous. The next step of my trip was happening.
West Texas. Lots of alone time. Lots of thoughts. Lots of nothing.
Wishing I would have thought to invite them to camp with me for the night, I hugged and kissed mother and brother goodbye.
The next morning I road to Seymour, about 75 miles. The morning started out somewhat chilly. The breeze turned into a wind in the afternoon. The sky was clear. I was happy. I was finally feeling ME again. The things I loved in life finally started coming back to mind. I wasted the day away thinking... creating ideas about the things I love to do, on my very own terms. :)
I broke down and got a motel room the evening so I could do some writing..but the internet didn't work.
The past couple of days, when people ask, I tell them my story. Handing out brochures from the first ride, explaining why I am, now, back out on the road. Most are encouraged. Most are excited. Some are worried. Lots are confused. Most want to help.
The next morning I left Seymour, hoping to make it to Dickens (another 75/80 miles)...
Although, it has only been a couple of days, at times, it is hard to stay self motivated. When you have a group to work with, you have people to talk to. You have more structure, needing to get from point A to point B, collectively...It is easy to get bored when you are alone for a handful of consecutive hours.
The morning, heading out of Seymour, started off with a breezy cold front.
It was a beautiful break from the sun.
Two folks stopped to give me some water bottles... one of the most generous gifts given in this world :)
The cold front cleared and the sun started to sink deeper into the sky. I made it to Guthrie, TX around 5. My body was tired. I was about ready to call it quits for the day...Dickens was still another 20 miles or so up the road...I wasn't about to ride at night with no lights, alone. I turned off 114 into Guthrie...
Guthrie is a town of 106 people. A couple of houses, a football field, and a small baptist church, was the only trace of civilization for miles and miles. I parked my bottom on the steps of the church. Kicked my shoes off. Dumped some bbq sauce into my bag of tyson chicken. Sat back to enjoyed the sound of trucks occasionally driving down the small, country road, as the sun kept sinking behind me.
As I was just about to throw my trash out and get my sleeping bag set, a women pulled into the drive.
She seemed curiously concerned. She asked if I needed anything.. a bathroom perhaps...
I was quite grateful that she took the time to stop and ask.
I told her how I wound up in Guthrie, alone. How I wasn't ready to settle down quite yet, after the first bike ride... How I still had something to gain out here on the road... and how I felt that God has and is keeping me safe.
She was quite moved.
She (Jammye) was a member at the church, and offered me a place to stay, there, for the night.
I gladly accepted.
After we talked a little bit more, she invited me to breakfast in the morning at the ranch up the road, where her husband worked.
Again, I gladly accepted the invitation.
It was really a wonderful thing to be talking to someone after 2 days of little communication...so this was a real treat!
We exchanged information and hugs.
When she left, I brought my bike inside and got settled.
A few minutes later Jammye called me, telling me she was going to have a friend stop by with a plate of food for dinner. The evening kept getting greater and greater...
Sure enough, another kind women came to the church on her way to the airport.
She dropped off a delicious, huge meal.
I was well fed and plenty tired, excited to meet some ranchers in the morning!
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