Into the Mystic: A Venture From East to West: Sid, Bill, Deborah, Reagan, David, and David

I slept like a rock at the Freeda Harris Baptist Center and waking up/leaving was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. I made myself some pancakes and sat out front to eat and survey the day. No sooner had I stepped outside, a man by the name of Sid pulled up in his truck looking for the owners of the baptist center. I told him they were away in Myrtle Beach and had been the last two days.

Sid sat down and we got to talking about the coal mining industry. After that, we talked of the time he served in the military while visiting Texas, California, and Idaho. We sympathized with each other about the soldiers coming back from Iraq with missing limbs and mental problems. We talked of family, the old days, and the future. We spoke of the different trees and birds in the area and how him and his wife enjoy the evenings watching the woods tell their stories. Sid was just what the doctor ordered for the morning.

I started biking.

At one particular point about 15 miles in, I noticed a small convenient store called "Gary's Discount". I bought a large container of peaches and a coke. As I prepared to eat outside, the cashier told me I could stay inside and chat.

Deborah and I talked and talked and talked. We touched on subjects such as life, love, death, religion and philosophy. She told me about her children, grandchildren and siblings. I shared with her about my family. We conversed about the contract of marriage, how it's never too late to find love, the trouble with drugs and alcohol, the peace and torment of death, and the joys of people. It was one of the most delightful conversations I've ever had, and with a total stranger; which in retrospect probably made the whole thing enjoyable. In the timeframe of one hour, maybe more, I felt like Deborah had made one of the strongest impacts on me as a person. She was so open. She gave me a big hug and I started biking again. I wish I got her picture. I have no doubt I will be getting back in touch with her somehow.

I continued biking.

25 miles later, I spotted a beer store. A cold 12 ounce of Budweiser sounded too good to pass up. Ignoring the illegality of the proposition, I bluntly asked the store owner Bill if I could just drink it on the spot. He allowed me to sit in the doorway and sip as we began to get to know one another. Bill grew up in the area and had never left. It was all he knew and he was more than content with that. As he put it, "There ain't no tornadoes, hurricanes, or tsunamis. Everybody here knows everybody. That boy who just came in, I played baseball with his father." I had to hand it to the guy, for 70 years old he looked great. He lived behind the store and closed at 10 while meeting and greeting all the inhabitants. Bill was good to me.

I biked 2 more miles.

Stopping at a place called "Fat Daddy's" for dinner (I would pay for it in more ways than cash), I met a man by the name of David who was exceptionally interested in my trip. He had a wife and two younger kids with him that were absolutely glued to Nickelodeon on the television. Bill had lived in Michigan and recently moved down to Kentucky for missionary work. He said I was more than welcome to stay at his church, get a shower, and have a nice meal. I was more than intrigued but I really wanted to make some headway that day so I kindly refused. He was currently doing construction on his church so they could house bikers. He also talked about backpacking with his family to Europe in the coming months, staying at hostels, ect. for a meager $1900 to see 14 countries. David was a good man.

Eventually, I reached the outskirts of Hindman and could not, for the life of me, find this church. I was given the wrong directions twice before a man named Reagan asked if I wanted a ride the 2 miles to the church. Throwing myself on a limb, I accepted. Reagan had lost his brother a couple years recently and was purchasing lanterns to lay next to the roadway where he was killed. The man had 7 kids and expressed his concern for the decay of the community. No one trusted anybody anymore. Many of the residents were strung out on drugs. It hadn't always been this way. As we pulled up to the church, the last thing he said was, "I just don't want my kids in this kind of environment." I looked at him sternly and said, "Ya know? That might be something you can't change but you'll always be the father of those kids. You show them what it means to be a man or a parent. That's something you can control." The way he looked at me made me feel like I had gotten through to him. In a five minute car ride, I learned a life lesson.

Turns out the church no longer houses cyclists and I was directed up the hill to a hostel specifically for cyclists. Enter David.

At the top of this huge climb, David was waiting with a cold glass of iced tea with an orange in it. I also learned my friends Narin and Alberto were there, absolutely flying through the past locations.

David treated me like royalty. I was given a shower, a meal, a beer, ice cream, AND he washed all my clothes. We talked about politics, Obama, dogs, cats, the environment, the coal industry, and more politics. As Narin said, "The guy is an angel." After keeping David up for too long and noticing it was 10 o clock, I was given the traditional cyclist's shot of brandy and made my way to my tent. It is from here I am writing of today's encounters.

The weather for the next two days looks absolutely awful and I have no idea what I'm going to do. As the motto goes, "One day at a time".