pcflvly
Well-known member
I woke up with two songs in my head. One was Bob Marley singing, "I'm a rainbow too" and the other Peter Tosh singing, "I'm an original man". It was in the form of a round and also call and response.
In the morning, come a the rainbow - original man
In the evening, come a the rainbow - original man
Want you to know - original man
I'm a rainbow too - original man
It went on like that. I nurtured the song while I made my coffee and packed up my camp then sang it as I rode down the trail. Within the first couple of miles I saw another touring cyclist coming towards me. We both slowed and then stopped.
He was a black man with long dredlocks named Neil Marley. He'd been singing Buffalo Soldier and told me that the original buffalo soldiers rode bicycles. I knew about this because I'd passed a monument commemorating their ride out west. We were both buffalo soldiers then, brothers of the road with the song of the rasta in our heart. Much love brother!
Neil rode from Tallahassee in five days, averaging more than 95 miles a day. I only ride fifty to seventy. We shared info on our routes and campsites and then parted, riding off along each other's path.
I stopped in Hattiesburg for wifi which I found along the trail but quickly rode on. There was rain expected and I wanted to cover as much ground as I could before it hit. I took the back way out Old River Road and made about fifteen miles before I took a rest. It was at a country church right by the road and I simply sat there to rest. Wouldn't you know it though, someone called the police.
Yep, the police again. He pulled up in an old pickup truck with his wife. She looked out at me with disdain and with no response at all to my smile. They were both black. I don't usually mention race but I want you to think older black gunman from a Western movie which is what he looked like when he got out and walked around the truck to confront me. His badge was on his belt but he wasn't otherwise uniformed and despite looking like a gunslinger, he wasn't armed. He thumbed the badge to make sure I knew who he was though and right away saw that I was just a traveler resting. He fired a few questions at me but our shootout was a draw and he watched me ride away.
Old River Road was otherwise a beautiful ride and it wasn't until I reached highway 98 that the clouds started to gather. I was ahead of them though and after snagging a few minutes of wifi from a chicken shack, kept riding. It was another ten miles before I stopped, the clouds behind me darkening and slowly gathering.
I caught the eye of an older black man on crutches in the store and when I went out with my drink, there was a mini atv parked behind my bike. The old black man, Benny, was riding it and when he came out and I saw how he was tieing his crutches on to the vehicle, I offered him a bungee cord.
We talked then and while we talked, two young redneck men almost came to blows over careless words exchanged. Meanwhile, a van load of midget wrestlers pulled in. There were a lot of them. How many midgets will fit in a van? This was a surreal backdrop for Benny and I to witness to each other. We kept it short though. The clouds were still gathering.
I made good time, thankful that I had the wind against me holding back the storm. I was riding in the sun but I knew the clouds would catch up with me when they turned black and started to drop columns like we see with tornadoes. I was in the middle of nowhere though and there was no shelter in sight but it was getting late enough in the day that I was ready to stop. Finally there was another church and despite my bad luck lately stopping at them, I found shelter there just before the clouds gathered and broke. Dry and protected, I nurtured my song again:
Weather is sweet, yea - original man
Makes me want to move my dancing feet - original man
In the morning, come a the rainbow - original man
In the evening, come a the rainbow - original man
Want you to know - original man
I'm a rainbow too - original man
It went on like that. I nurtured the song while I made my coffee and packed up my camp then sang it as I rode down the trail. Within the first couple of miles I saw another touring cyclist coming towards me. We both slowed and then stopped.
He was a black man with long dredlocks named Neil Marley. He'd been singing Buffalo Soldier and told me that the original buffalo soldiers rode bicycles. I knew about this because I'd passed a monument commemorating their ride out west. We were both buffalo soldiers then, brothers of the road with the song of the rasta in our heart. Much love brother!
Neil rode from Tallahassee in five days, averaging more than 95 miles a day. I only ride fifty to seventy. We shared info on our routes and campsites and then parted, riding off along each other's path.
I stopped in Hattiesburg for wifi which I found along the trail but quickly rode on. There was rain expected and I wanted to cover as much ground as I could before it hit. I took the back way out Old River Road and made about fifteen miles before I took a rest. It was at a country church right by the road and I simply sat there to rest. Wouldn't you know it though, someone called the police.
Yep, the police again. He pulled up in an old pickup truck with his wife. She looked out at me with disdain and with no response at all to my smile. They were both black. I don't usually mention race but I want you to think older black gunman from a Western movie which is what he looked like when he got out and walked around the truck to confront me. His badge was on his belt but he wasn't otherwise uniformed and despite looking like a gunslinger, he wasn't armed. He thumbed the badge to make sure I knew who he was though and right away saw that I was just a traveler resting. He fired a few questions at me but our shootout was a draw and he watched me ride away.
Old River Road was otherwise a beautiful ride and it wasn't until I reached highway 98 that the clouds started to gather. I was ahead of them though and after snagging a few minutes of wifi from a chicken shack, kept riding. It was another ten miles before I stopped, the clouds behind me darkening and slowly gathering.
I caught the eye of an older black man on crutches in the store and when I went out with my drink, there was a mini atv parked behind my bike. The old black man, Benny, was riding it and when he came out and I saw how he was tieing his crutches on to the vehicle, I offered him a bungee cord.
We talked then and while we talked, two young redneck men almost came to blows over careless words exchanged. Meanwhile, a van load of midget wrestlers pulled in. There were a lot of them. How many midgets will fit in a van? This was a surreal backdrop for Benny and I to witness to each other. We kept it short though. The clouds were still gathering.
I made good time, thankful that I had the wind against me holding back the storm. I was riding in the sun but I knew the clouds would catch up with me when they turned black and started to drop columns like we see with tornadoes. I was in the middle of nowhere though and there was no shelter in sight but it was getting late enough in the day that I was ready to stop. Finally there was another church and despite my bad luck lately stopping at them, I found shelter there just before the clouds gathered and broke. Dry and protected, I nurtured my song again:
Weather is sweet, yea - original man
Makes me want to move my dancing feet - original man
