DDT (12)
Member
Posts: 4120
Sometimes ya just gotta go...
Winter Springs, FL - Occasionally...
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« on: March 02, 2016, 02:50:11 AM » |
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Tour de Dixie (Part Eleven)
A great day to be alive and in the saddle! Following a couple more hours of sleep after turning in for the second time, I awoke refreshed and ready to take on my next challenge. I thoughtfully and deliberately left nothing to chance, however, by performing all three Ss… I for sure didn’t want to risk having anything spoil the promising vision of this momentous, long anxiously waited for day!
I didn’t apply any smell-good (cologne or after shave), though, because I don’t normally carry any with me on the road anymore (that stuff hasn’t ‘worked’ for me in several years anyway). It wasn’t even cold, either. Cool, of course, and I did wear the Gerbigs, but only as another layer… I never turned them on all day.
We made the delightful ride back down to Mena, topped off with motion lotion, then proceeded to take the heretofore illusive ‘correct’ road. I wasn’t exactly feeling cocky as I rolled on the throttle through the backside of those sweeping curves, but I was plenty self-assured to say the least (thanks again, Mitch!).
The roads even felt familiar and looked just like I’d remembered them, unlike those on my most recent attempt to recreate former magic! Good farm land, but no ups and downs to speak of, just a few modest undulations, slight grades and sweeper curves – no hairpins or sharpies.
Those rumpled ribbons of asphalt still provided a perfect surface upon which to enjoy riding, while allowing drool inducing, wondrous visions of what surely lies ahead, to dance temptingly around before my mind’s eye. I even made all the correct turns at intersections. WOW! Could it actually be this time? Yep…
Forty-four miles after topping off, I spotted the goal of my most recent arduous expedition… the Blue Bell Restaurant in Story, AR, was just up ahead… right where Mitch and I had left it. Then I had to wipe my mouth and chin again… Yeah, I was a bit anxious!
I eased into a parking spot, then did my disrobing thing, and finally went inside for the momentous climax to all I’d been dreaming of, previously searching in vain for, but always looking so forward to… I was savoring every moment, as I, perhaps a bit over the top, allowed myself an abundance of ‘dietary foreplay’… I really need to start carrying a towel and wearing a bib on these outings…
Lori (the owner, cashier, cook, waitress, dish washer, and sole staff member) claimed to remember Mitch and me! We had a pleasant, nostalgic chat, then she took my meal order, and I began talking with a local character who had just walked in behind me.
I strongly suspect he may be blood kin to the male cast members of ‘Duck Dynasty’… He not only looked like them, he even talked just like them, too. Really nice guy, though, and I did enjoy the gum-flapping we shared for a time… About this and that, but hunting and fishing mostly, but who cares, I was faking it anyway, as I haven’t done either in more than forty years.
What happened next during all of this is difficult to explain, even more so to admit… And, I feel a wee bit embarrassed to actually put it out there publicly, but, sadly, it really did happen. Perhaps this can serve as one of those ‘bad examples’ for other folks and maybe prevent them from making such a colossal boo-boo themselves. If so, then perhaps I can salvage some modicum of dignity out of this disappointing experience after all.
I had a gargantuan brain flatulence episode on a scale large enough to cause a near total intra-cranial melt down! Remember, I had just ridden two long days and nearly seven hundred miles in less than ideal weather to get one of those incredible grilled ham & cheese sandwiches… only I didn’t. Nope, I ordered breakfast and coconut pie instead. Sweet tea too, of course.
Anyway, it was all perfectly innocent enough, and I did have what I’d thought to be some sound thinking in mind. Cleverly, I had also ordered one of those tasty, awe-inspiring sandwiches ‘to-go’, thinking I would eat it later. This way, I’d reasoned, I’d be getting the best of all worlds. See, on the surface it wasn’t so serious a mental lapse as it might at first appear.
As I neared the end of my biscuit ‘n gravy, fried eggs, tater tots, and bacon, Lori asked if I wanted her to start the sandwich then, to which I responded in the affirmative. Way past the point of no return for me by then, but just before she actually began her ‘construction’ work, she, as an afterthought, inquired when I thought I might be consuming that ride-worthy trophy…
“Late afternoon or early evening when I get to my next motel,” I’d coyly responded… all the while thinking I’d been pretty doggone smart with this plan. (The thought of coconut pie too had heavily influenced my meal choice decision! I knew from before that I’d be unable to eat a sandwich and pie also. So…)
“The sandwich won’t be any good then,” she tersely informed me. “The bread will be hard, the tomatoes mushy, and the mayonnaise if-y after being out all day.” Bear in mind here, that her facial expression was that of which all past or present married men are all too familiar…
The somber, disdainful, disapproving glare, furrowed brow, the narrowed eyes, not a squint exactly, but something sure to arouse fear and trembling in any red-blooded, heterosexual male member of our species. Her tone of voice, naturally, was commensurate with ‘the look’… this gal has had practice! I felt like a little boy who’d just been caught red-handed pulling his sister’s hair!
I may have blushed, but I don’t know… I felt pretty foolish right about then, and I was so busted! I even considered throwing a penalty flag on myself for a personal foul - unnecessary foolishness. Why hadn’t I thought of that? It seems so simple now… hind sight is 20-20, foresight not so much… No way I could eat that sandwich right then after just having eaten breakfast… and carrying it around all day wasn’t such a good idea either! Dang!
We cancelled the to-go order, and I finished my coconut pie, and that’s how it all unfolded… I’d ridden all that way, and… so close, but no cigar. She let me off the hook finally, by smiling and joking that I’d just have to come back again… I agreed. Talk about your bittersweet experiences!
Real men don’t cry, of course, so I heroically fought through that almost spontaneous, impulsive reaction to events. I thought it prudent to take my leave soon, though, just to be on the safe side… I paid my check, expressed farewell to all present (a couple of other locals had drifted in during all of this), and exited towards ALI.
Back in the saddle and rolling down the road… I felt so empty, in spite of having just eaten. And, as if to add insult to injury, the breakfast had been only mediocre at best… the pie only marginally better. Nothing else to do that I could think of, but head for home to lick my wounds… That was not the end of my sad sandwich saga, however…
A long, hard, purposeful day in the saddle followed this pseudo Shakespearian tragedy. I didn’t finally get off the road until nearly dark that afternoon, and I was bushed… not to mention completely emotionally drained. It never got cold that day; in fact, it warmed up to the point I had to shed the Gerbigs and open some vents on my leather jacket. And then there was this…
We don’t ordinarily expect traffic back-ups and long waits in line when riding back roads through tiny hamlets. But, it can happen… And, it did happen just after I crossed back into Louisiana…
A traffic accident, it turned out, had things backed up from the eastern edge of town, right through the middle of downtown and through both intersections with red lights, and then out the western side. I had been traveling more or less west to east then, so I was caught right in the thick of things. Mercifully this had occurred after I’d shed my Gerbigs and ventilated my jacket, otherwise I might have suffered heat stroke!
We crept along a few feet at a time… One had to keep up with the ever so slow flow when not halted, or someone else would jump ahead of you in line… I did allow a few folks in anyway, however. We weren’t stopped long enough to allow my clutch hand to rest much, so all in all it was a rather dismal situation… Oh well, not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last… An hour was lost with that mess… But, there was a bright side to it.
Yep, I’d not only fortuitously removed my heated gear and ‘ventilated’ my remaining garments just prior to this event, I’d also addressed another annoying development during that same pause. You guessed it… my pooperosity readings had made an unmistakable, dramatic change… and not in a good way. A modest surprise because of the helpful, productive, preemptive, ‘precautionary purge’ I’d taken prior to departure that morning.
I was on high alert for about ten miles, though, as I earnestly looked for a suitable depository! And no way was I going to trust any farts, no matter how innocent they might seem. I think I strained my sphincter muscle holding back ‘the tide’, and my butt cheeks were feeling ‘the burn’, as well.
This was about four hours after I had dined at my destination/trip target… Was there a connection? Hmmmm…. Either that, or ol’ Montezuma must have been one really pissed-off dude, if he’s still seeking revenge like that on us Gringos!
That set my mind to pondering… When I’d agreed to return at some future time for another of those pig part extravaganzas, had I actually naively blundered into a binding oral contract? Must I now force myself to return and risk another ‘after shock’; or, if I fail to appear, could I become liable for breach of contract?? Maybe I’ll just mark my calendar for some date in the next millennium… Would that do?
Well, like I said earlier in this story, I was bushed when I finally put ALI to bed back again in Monroe, LA… I don’t know if I’ll make it home tomorrow or not… It depends largely upon how things go tonight, and especially how I fell in the morning… Something else to ponder in the meantime, I reckon…
DDT
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