Homecoming, of sorts.

(Warning: excessive bikinig should only be done with a helmet, and still may cause sore legs, fatigue, maniacle desire for showers, a reduction to barbarinism, Doug and Josh syndrom, and a pathalogical desire to point out road hazards to friends, family and fellow drivers.)


(this blog is slightly less dangerous)



It is nice to have the blog on a biking day. It gives you something to think about on the road, for miles you can think of witty things to say, forget them, and then try recalling them again. It's a good way to pass the time. Unfortunately, today I haven't done anything of the sort, thus this entry comes kind of on the fly.


First I would like to take care of some unfinished business. Jessica from Linden Alabama, below is a picture of our group and below the welcome sign of the Forrest Hill Baptist Church.


Tomorrow; we bike to Lenette, Alabama, and thus enter 'The Valley," and Chris' stomping grounds. But you'll hear more about that then. First I wanted to get in my speill. Though on the trailer I placed a star in Kentucky, signifying that it is my home, I have lived many places, bouncing around more times then a rubber ball in a concrette factory.


(that last analogy is an example that where last time I had the blog it was funny, this time, maybe not so much. I'm just not feeling funny today, I lost too many times at ping pong.)


The point is; today we left Montgomery and biked into Auburn, and thus into one of my very first stomping grounds. This is the place where my love of rocks was first apparent, as I threw thousands into a lake. In case you need more explaination; My mother atteneded AU for Veterinary School, and I was just old enough to tag along. So though my only memories are of a mean preschool teacher, a pear tree (I don't like pears) and of a dairy farm where I helped feed calves, Auburn Alabama is one of the places that a long time ago I would have called home.



Quoting my mother, "It's interesting sometimes; the circles we make in our lives." And reading Katherine's Journal from yesterday it is almost apropriate. Mine is one of a few little symbolic homecomings before we bike to Tybee Island and all go home 'for real.' Which, by the way I am not sure we are all going to do.


(send your donations now to support
The Fuller Center Inaugural Bike Trip II:
the return to La Jolla)


I won't get sentamental, I leave that for some other bikers, but I will say that I have grown quite comfortable with this group. I say this not to engender some touching reverie but to point out the fact that, if you can take 10 random people from all over the country, (east of San Diego anyway) throw them into a situation that is always full of uncertainty, requires lots of hours spent in the heat, and a little bit of physical exhertion, and have it work out as well as this bike trip has so far anything is possible. We have been truely blessed along this trip, and hopefully we will continue to be.

"What's the point in getting Nostalgic so soon?" you might ask.


Nothing really, except that now the end is in sight, and the group is still changing. Today saw the addition of five new members, the Merchant family has joined us. Welcome; Jack, Rhonda, Gerry, Zach and Caleb. This brings our youngest age down to 6. It will be fun to ride with new riders, although I'm not sure if anyone can keep up with a few energized young kids... wait, I've been keeping up with Josh during most of this trip. And anyway this may be my last required blog post, so ofcouse some reflection should be expected. (and I think we passed through an area called Nostalgia today.)



Speaking of the ride today, there were a lot of hills. The early ones sparked the question from Tony "Why does every place want to be like the Rockies?" I can't complain though, I though I had left top speeds of 40 mph or higher behind me, how was I supposed to know the mountains of Alabama were still waiting? Also about the ride, and Tony, we have to add another in the row of chalk marks that tallys Tonys broken spokes. And another tear in the puddle that notes Dougs flats. But for the most part, it was a typical 59 mile day on the road.

The end of the ride was typical too. Doug kept his pillow, biking the whole way. We ended up at the Auburn Uninted Methodist Church. We were greated with lunch, and promised dinner and breakfast. 3 meals. All made possible by the Uninted methodist head chef Jerry, owner of a local restaurant Little Texas. (next year we're going to make a point of recruiting him for the trip.)

I requested this blog because I wanted to write about Auburn, since I lived here at one point, but unfortunately I really don't have a lot of memories of the place. When I was younger, I threw a lot of rocks in a local lake (an all day pass time for me, even still.) I lived in a decommisioned baptist church for a while, and I never dreamed I would be coming back here as a 'big kid' on my way biking across the country. This time the point is, you never know where you'll end up. So try to remember as much as you can about the places you've lived in case you have to play tour guide.

Alright, nothing really insightful today, but we are still making it through the ride and it is still fun.
for now
that's all
Nate