Brushing my teeth with the water spigot outside the church, I saw Beth and Erin pedal by. With a renewed sense of urgency, I packed up my things and caught up with them a few miles down the road. We kept running into each other ever since; stopping at the same gas station and even eating at the same restaurant in Goreville.
Delaney's, in Goreville, had the best service and food in town. Plus, you add in the fact that cyclists get a free dessert of their choice, it just doesn't get any better. As I was waiting for my food in the friendly sanctum, I suddenly remembered about my package at the post office. Less than a block down the street, I rushed out the door.
Entering the establishment, I saw the inside hours halted at 1230. Looking at the time, it was 1232. I ran behind the building to check behind the air conditioning unit to no avail. However, there was a woman in the standard post office uniform sitting in her car. I explained the situation and she said it was a great mystery this morning when the employees found the package. She went inside, got the package, and the mystery was solved. Big thank you to the young lady, Christine. I made sure to get the name of the person who had given me the chance to once again have a usable tent.
Back at the restaurant, my killer waiter Eddie was taking care of me. He mentioned if I knew about the weather making its way toward us. A curious glance at my phone's weather app solidified the ominous clouds; heavy thunderstorms on the approach. I was stuck in Goreville for the next few hours.
In this timeframe, I got to learning some things.
Delaney's was founded by a couple; one man originally from Elizabeth, NJ and his wife, Gale, from Washington D.C. Apparently, his wife had gone on a business trip or small vacation to Southern Illinois and upon coming home, told the husband how beautiful it was. They got a house and founded the little restaurant, which the longer I stayed, the more I realized it was a strong social hub for the little community. Old timer after old timer would come in and sit at the same table, speaking of life at home and the slightly monotonous stories that accompany old age.
Meanwhile, the youthful waiter Eddie and I conversed. Eddie was in his mid 20's, born and raised in Goreville. We both found it curious that the Ohio River seemed to divide the Southern dialect that I had grown so used to. In Illinois, the twangy verbal draw has all but disappeared. Eddie wasn't sure why that was but he noted that many of the older inhabitants of Illinois still have it, which I have tended to hear more often since he told me.
About two or three hours into the holdup (time moved sooo slowly) at Delaney's from the rain, Maggi and Kyle appeared. The gang was all there. The two sat with me in my booth and we got to chatting. After another hour and watching the two munch on their mouthwatering meals, Beth and Erin got the confidence to finally battle the storm. I followed suit but not before Gale got pictures of us and made sure we signed the guest book.
Eventually, I was on my way to Carbondale. Once again, I had a CouchSurfing appointment with a host. This individual was Marcela. I battled rain and wind to cycle the 24 miles but with the fact that she had a warm meal waiting for me; I would've cycled through a tornado. Eventually, two hours and two broken spokes later, I made it to her doorstep, soaked to the bone. On the stove was pasta with all sorts of vegetables.
Marcela is a 33 year old single woman who teaches summer classes at the college down the road. She has a huge array of music, makes incredible food, has an electric personality, and a lovely Spanish accent from her birthplace of Colombia. The town she grew up in was the second biggest city in the country. She's lived in Northern Illinois, seen NYC, Brazil, you name it. She was an awesome host.
After dinner, we went out to some of the bars in Carbondale. Her friend Jared joined us. Initially very quiet, we really opened up to each other after the first two beers. Another really cool cat. Sporting long hair down to his shoulders, a sleeveless shirt, and a tattoo on his shoulder, I was ecstatic to be seeing the city with these two. We went to two bars and got some local pizza. Carbondale and its inhabitants have been good to me. I could go on and on but it's late, and there's more to see tomorrow.
Goreville was but two miles to the right.
Beth and Erin at the restaurant that wouldn't let us leave.
Biking in the rain, still 10 miles from Carbondale.
Almost there?
Jared pondering life's many questions.
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