Our truck died the other evening in a parking lot. The poor thing was towed home for an overnight visit before being towed off to our mechanic. Funny thing about having a tow truck arrive in the neighborhood — everyone wants to know what happened and because we’re a one-vehicle household, everyone is quick to offer rides where needed.
Truck comes back and *sigh* the engine light is on. Back to the mechanic. Neighbors jump in again to help (bless them). Mechanic thinks he’s fixed the issue. We bring it home. Engine light comes on again! This time we simply can’t ask anyone for another ride so we load our bikes onto the truck and head across the rural belt between us and our mechanic. We’ve packed a lunch and will make a long slow day through the rural roads back home. We expect the truck will be a day or two this time.
Meanwhile I’m having serious unspoken doubts. I mean, I’m not the most energetic of sods. I like my exercise with little sweat action followed by days of rest in between. And my tender areas are remembering our last bike ride. . .
Nevertheless, off we go and, surprisingly, it was wonderful.
First stop was the Chuck Wagon Market about a mile down the road (thanks to an old-ish bladder) and while I was there I spotted licorice sticks in bins. OMG! Is there a better way to sweat than when chomping on a licorice stick?
I think not. (BTW — I’m not smoking it—shot was taken mid-chew while admiring tree blossoms).
Oh, yeah. It was a grand ride. Baby lambs running and trying to muzzling moms.
Handsome black and tan pigs wallowing in the muck 
Chickens running like the devil was after them (too fast for the camera).
Weathered barns with bulging sides.
Fruit/veggie/flower stands about every mile down the road. All of them looking forlorn but the heart knows they will soon be back in action, stuffed with summer bounty for sale.
We stopped to rest and enjoy the beach views two hours down the road and where I had just enough time to do a sketch before our mechanic called to say the truck was done!
Pooh! —because that’s when I realized why I was still feeling so fine and easy —most of the ride had been on a gentle slope downwards . . .
Yeah, I’m good for weeks now, and no, there’s no shot of me at the end of that ride back. . . .
insearchofitall Said:
on April 20, 2016 at 6:26 am
I liked how you told this story. It’s that how things go though. Truck gets fixed just as you get home. I could never make it as far as a block on a bike. Very impressive and you have some good neighbors. 🙂
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caymayowrites Said:
on April 20, 2016 at 10:03 am
Too true – it being how things go! And, yes, we live in a super spot. Blessed indeed.
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writeknit Said:
on April 14, 2016 at 5:53 pm
Are you sure that isn’t a stogie? 🙂 That would be more exercise than I get in a month, good for you!
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caymayowrites Said:
on April 14, 2016 at 8:39 pm
Sweet, juicy, finely chewable and nary a sign of a smoky halo? Nope wasn’t a stogie! And that is about all the exercise I’ll get in a month!
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