West Layden had the seemingly most inept Post-Office lady in the world. When I googled where the place was, I only found results talking about saving the place from being bulldozed. If the worker there is always as bad as her, maybe it should go.
Anyway, Josh met up with me in the town around 8:30. It took from 5 to 7 for Josh and I to get all our shit together. I guess our terrible time handling pretty much makes sense now.
At a place called Hill Market in town, Josh and I ordered small sandwiches that were prepared by an eleven year old girl, who was really sweet I might add. Anyway the "small" sandwiches turned out to be about fourteen inches in length and maybe two and a half in girth. They were gigantic.
As we ate, a soft-spoken man pulled up with identical pannier bags to Josh's ride.
"Hey, how you guys doing?" the man asked.
"Good! Where you coming from? Where you going?" we asked.
"Well, I started in 1996. That was my first ride. I've led over 25 biking trips across the country. Yeah, I-"
My brain shut off. A lot of times, this is why I don't like talking it up with other cyclists. They're really all about themselves and what they do. However, I had to give him a chance and I'm glad I did. He was a very wise man.
A soft spoken and freshly retired thin man with a bald head and blue eyes, his tone of voice is what struck me. It occured to me that he wasn't really bragging, merely introducing himself. He also had a lot of great advice for us. Ray Hanson was a good guy.
Josh and I enjoyed a leisurely ride to the town of Osceola, around 16 miles. The good thing about being up early, we still had all day. A funny thing happened to Josh up the road as I lagged behind after my helmet fell off.
Josh was gliding along when suddenly, a loud voice on an intercom came blasing out from behind him.
"Attention!" the police vehicle boomed. "Your turtle helmet friend dropped his helmet. He's coming! Don't worry!"
And rode away. Josh said he thought he was being pulled over.
I talked with the driver before the "incident" happened. He turned on his police lights and braked so I could turn around and grab the helmet. When he pulled up to talk to me, his enthusiasm and general jolliness made me happy. It encouraged me.
The miles went fairly quickly today. It's funny, many of the towns we rode through (Osceola, Richmond, Redfield) all experience some of the heaviest snows in the country. Signs everywhere are for snow plows and snowmobiles. It's weird to see it in the summer. Nice weather almost looks out of place. Of course, the weather wouldn't stay nice.
Obviously, the best thing to do when Mother Nature begins pummeling you with water on your bike, is to take a picture of yourself. By the time we made it into the town of Pulaski, we were soaked and the rain wasn't relenting. We hauled up in the town gazebo as traffic circled us. We laid down and waited. Man, did I feel like the local hobo vagrant on display.
After an hour or so, the rain finally died down and Josh and I set out for Selkirk Shores State Park. State Parks are a pretty bad experience so far. With my contacts out this evening, all the blurry lights of the RV's and campers looked like street venders. I felt like I was at a festival, which isn't a bad thing but everyone brought their homes to go camping. It bugs me.
I've also realized I just mostly talked shit in this entire post. I had that kinda day, my bad.
I tried loading 4 or 5 different pictures and had zero success on all of them. Connection is still bad... and I got my phone wet today.
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