About 5 miles into the ride, I got a call from Karen. The truck had been hard to start and the "check engine" light was now on. Sigh. I have known since that lovely dust storm we had in Arizona that I was going to have to do a bit of maintenance to the truck, but we haven't had much time each day. We couldn't put this off. When Liz and I got to Daphne, I kept riding, and Liz stayed back with Karen to troubleshoot the problem with the truck. I hated it that they couldn't be riding during the best part of the day. But I need to say here that this is just the type of situation that makes me glad that they are with me. There was no whining on their part, and I trust their judgment. I am so grateful for them. We kept in contact by texting each other, and pretty soon they had the diagnostic codes and a new air filter, and I had 80 miles. They met me in Flomaton and we had some lunch, and exchanged repair stories. They had had 3 different men help them with the issues, and all three men had gone out of their way to help us out. (The air filter is a K&N...and the guy found one in a town 30 minutes away). The diagnostics showed some problems with the valves...not exactly sure what that means, but he turned off the check engine light, and I will hope it stays off until I get home and can better take care of it.
In Daphne, there is a boardwalk and also something called Alligator Alley...where Flat Stanley got his first look at some Florida gators.
My repair story is all about my front tire. I knew they were not going to be able to catch up to me for several hours because they had to wait for the air filter...I had one bottle of water, one protein bar and 3 bucks with me. I am not a McDonald's faithful...but their value menu was sounding pretty good, so I determined to stop at the next McDonald's I saw...which just happened to be right across the street from where I had a front flat. Blast. I fixed the flat, and went in to buy a large drink and a sausage biscuit. Bonus...they were adding hash browns to the sausage biscuit for the same amount of money. Deal. When I went back out to the bike, the front tire was soft. Double blast. I pumped it up and went down the road, checking it again in a mile or so. Soft. I pulled into a shaded parking lot and determined to take my time and do it right. I couldn't find another hole in the tube to patch, so I put in my extra tube. Usually, I am pretty good about checking the tube midway to make sure I have it seated on the rim. Not today...I pumped and pumped and then there was this awful gunshot sound...and a 3" hole in my new tube. Sigh. I pulled the first tube back out and pumped it up a bit, looking and listening for a leak. Nothing...nada. Fine...I will just limp down the road, pumping it up every 5 miles or so until Karen and Liz catch up to me. I put the tire back on the bike and checked it at a mile. 3 miles. 5 miles. It was holding air. Now...this is a mystery to me, but I will tell you that I think it is all Providential...for some reason I cannot explain, I was supposed to be at the side of the road for those 20 minutes.
I ended the day with 100.2 miles and an average of 14.2. My average has become a little more consistent, even with today's headwinds. There was 2268' of elevation gain.
It wasn't long before we crossed the border into Florida. And then...of course...it started to rain. In earnest. I was looking out the window of the truck wondering how in the world I could possibly ride in something like that. Liz had the wipers going full speed and we still couldn't see 50 yards in front of us. We were headed to Marianna to stay at Florida Caverns State Park, and Liz optimistically said the skies looked lighter to the east.
We got to the campground a little after 6 p.m. and of course, the caverns were closed. They aren't open on Tuesdays or Wednesdays, either. Budget cuts, perhaps? There were a LOT of bugs. A symphony of noise was coming from the trees. I had thought it was more cicadas, but Linda Perry said they were tree frogs. They made this loud, rhythmic sound, like sawing wood...Liz thought it sounded more like marching...whatever...I hope it lulls us to sleep.
maybe you can't...because you won't...
Your tire story reminds me of our day in Zengland with one flat after another finally finding we had a broken bead on the tire. Stopped Ata bike shop in the next town and borrowed a floor pump to pump up our latest new tube. Joe asked the bik shop guy if their pump was pounds or bars(over there it is bars not pounds. Of course,that meant he over filled it and there was this loud bang just as some customers were entering the shop. Joe looked at the young man as we' were looking at buying more tubes. The young man went out with Joe to lookmat the bike, told him their guy would replace it and gave it back sayin "no charge when Joe asked how much we owed. I truly believe the people coming in thought it might have been an IRA BOMBING it sounded that loud being overinflated and sitting in the sun seemed to be too much. It had blown the tire partially off the rim when it blew.
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