pcflvly
Well-known member
Before I disappeared into the landscape on the Acuilla River, a truckload of rednecks spotted me. They said something to me and I walked over because I couldn't hear them. When I approached, the driver said, "I thought you were someone else" and started to put his truck back in gear. I asked him something so he'd stay though and we started to chat.
I've met rednecks all through this country and other countries too. Most of them become friends. These were the worst kind though. They were nice people who "other" anyone not like them. They didn't have anything against me and didn't cause me any trouble but I know hearts. Nobody is an "other". We are sister and brother.
Anyway, the country was fabulous. There were forty miles of nature preserve and forests, the road had a smooth paved shoulder, and I had a perfect, hidden in plain sight camp on the river twenty miles from the next town.
I met Richard in the morning a couple miles from the edge of town. He was walking his bike with his young pit bull beside him. She was in heat and his tire was flat. I couldn't do anything for the dog but I have an air pump so we walked up to a picnic table next to a closed liquor store. It was just a hundred yards but along the way we picked up another man who was sitting dazed on the edge of a ditch.
Richard was a veteran. That other kind of veteran, of the criminal justice system. His rank was inscribed on his face where he had two prison drops tattooed under each eye. He was wearing a lot of bling, more silver than gold, and constantly on the phone. I switched my pump over for his valves, fitted it to the stem, then told him that he had to pump it.
While we set that up, a blue male pit bull came up after his dog. She was not ready yet but the other dog gave it his all with no success. He was injured and was dragging his front paw. I said that it looked broken but Richard shook his head and said that its owner had "kicked" it. And by kicked I'm quite sure he meant capped. It was sad but there was nothing I could do.
Meanwhile, the other guy sort of drifted off. He was up and around the building before Richard and I even noticed he was leaving. Richard called for him and he came back. He perked up after that. He realized we were sharing brotherhood and wanted in on it. When you're used to otherhood, brotherhood is divine.
I left my brothers there. Richard said something about twisting a blunt but with at least one hand on his phone at all times, I could see that taking a long time and I had a goal for the day, ride forty five more miles to the start of the next bike trail.
I rode it in three fifteen mile sections. The land was all forest and forested swamp. It was bear country but I didn't see any. Nor did I see any snakes or alligators. There was one solitary crane perched unmovingly on a tiny island in a lonely pond as if in testimony that there was any wildlife at all.
The trailhead at my destination was tucked away on the edge of town and I made a nice hobo's rest of it there.
I've met rednecks all through this country and other countries too. Most of them become friends. These were the worst kind though. They were nice people who "other" anyone not like them. They didn't have anything against me and didn't cause me any trouble but I know hearts. Nobody is an "other". We are sister and brother.
Anyway, the country was fabulous. There were forty miles of nature preserve and forests, the road had a smooth paved shoulder, and I had a perfect, hidden in plain sight camp on the river twenty miles from the next town.
I met Richard in the morning a couple miles from the edge of town. He was walking his bike with his young pit bull beside him. She was in heat and his tire was flat. I couldn't do anything for the dog but I have an air pump so we walked up to a picnic table next to a closed liquor store. It was just a hundred yards but along the way we picked up another man who was sitting dazed on the edge of a ditch.
Richard was a veteran. That other kind of veteran, of the criminal justice system. His rank was inscribed on his face where he had two prison drops tattooed under each eye. He was wearing a lot of bling, more silver than gold, and constantly on the phone. I switched my pump over for his valves, fitted it to the stem, then told him that he had to pump it.
While we set that up, a blue male pit bull came up after his dog. She was not ready yet but the other dog gave it his all with no success. He was injured and was dragging his front paw. I said that it looked broken but Richard shook his head and said that its owner had "kicked" it. And by kicked I'm quite sure he meant capped. It was sad but there was nothing I could do.
Meanwhile, the other guy sort of drifted off. He was up and around the building before Richard and I even noticed he was leaving. Richard called for him and he came back. He perked up after that. He realized we were sharing brotherhood and wanted in on it. When you're used to otherhood, brotherhood is divine.
I left my brothers there. Richard said something about twisting a blunt but with at least one hand on his phone at all times, I could see that taking a long time and I had a goal for the day, ride forty five more miles to the start of the next bike trail.
I rode it in three fifteen mile sections. The land was all forest and forested swamp. It was bear country but I didn't see any. Nor did I see any snakes or alligators. There was one solitary crane perched unmovingly on a tiny island in a lonely pond as if in testimony that there was any wildlife at all.
The trailhead at my destination was tucked away on the edge of town and I made a nice hobo's rest of it there.
