i will without hesitation request a shower.

day 3. 95 miles. santa rosa to davis

late night, tent in backyard musings. today there were new problems...

as i just rolled over in my tent, i disvovered that my boxer shorts were stuck to a part of my buttocks. the chafing was so bad today, that i have a few areas where the skin has been rubbed raw, and will most likely scab over by morning. at mile 70, mike and i pulled over so that i could stumble off into an orchard, take off my pants, and pour water on the pained area. this problem is brought on by the fact that i am experimenting with a new saddle. thankfully, i have been experiencing no numbness, but i guess there is a price to pay with the rubbing of new areas. i am not so sure how tomorrow will go. i suppose there is a certain poetic simplicity in the fact that if one sits on a really small leather seat all day, shifting around, one will have some trouble in some part of the general groin/butt area.

new day. i fell asleep. it is now 7:41 am. a long and hard sleep with dreams of things i cannot remember. yesterday was a long, long, day. we figured the milage would be quite a bit shorter than it turned out, and the heat quite a bit cooler. we left santa rosa in the morning, and flew the country roads for a few hours. trees hanging their giant arms over the road, and farmland scattered with cattle and sheep. goats. we stopped at the sonoma square and watched the wine country tourists flaunting their wealth and shopping. are those two somehow intrinsically tied at the hip? i read yesterday in the paper, that some big, special businessman bought a 3 litre bottle of wine at an auction in napa valley for $225,000.00. the sickness of excess. fancy cars and sun hats. loafers with no socks. tan tan tan tan tan people. i recall years ago, standing at a friend's house with a girl whom i was in the midst of a rather absurd fling. she announced to my friend's father apologetically that she was a bit pale, as she hadn't been to the tanning salon for a few weeks. at first i thought she was joking. when i realized no, i thought, "what the fuck are you doing jefferson? who is this girl?"

so we rode through the sun on highway 12, with the cars speeding by. at some point, we had the relatively treacherous task of riding on the highway up over some overpass/bridge which we rode as speedily as we could, but nervously nonetheless. miles later found us merging, breaking the air of a highway {highway 80} onramp, as six lanes of traffic exploded past. oh, the monolithic sound of cars. they are now the monsters of the earth, simply by their engines and their number. and of course the large footprints they leave behind.

we made our way east into the farmlands of the valley. there was indeed a moment of dismay, when thinking that we were close, we discovered we had 35 miles to go. let me say simply, that 95 miles with and extra 70 or so pounds on the bike is physically taxing.

we stopped at some amazingly "trashy" store to buy water and spoke with a young {16?} year old boy who was limping. mike said "looks like you hurt your leg." he replied, "yeah, fell off my quad...can't hardly walk. i messed it up real bad." he proceeded to pull up his pant leg and show us a mangled and bruised and swollen left knee, that looked to be in absolutely miserable shape. miserable.

we rode on along interstate 505 north towards winters. the sparse farm houses and rows of trees. wlanut orchards, heavily sprayed with pesticides, their leaves white from the bug killing snow, green nuts hanging tightly from their fingers. then the bike path. freedom from cars and familiar terrain. roots breaking up through the cement, sending the bumps of a shaking bike through my arms to the wrist. a slow ride across the davis campus to the downtown yard where we pitch our tents. strangely enough, the yard next door to mike's old house where i lived in a tent for 6 weeks those years ago, when dana made her rather sudden departure. oh, how often we seem to travel the same roads with different eyes to see. even stranger, was the fact that in the precise place where my tent lived those years ago, was some young man, sleeping in a tent. perhaps the universe has some predestined plans for that small piece of grass. i wondered, "is his heart slipping through his hands too?"

dinner at sophias thai restaurant and ice cream for dessert. strawberry and vanilla, which keri proclaimed as "boring" but i defended as delicious.

sleep hard and fast, though i am contemplating strapping a full size down pillow onto the top of my rack. yes, i know this is absurd on one hand, but brilliant on the other. i am not ashamed.

breakfast with greg. the enormous joy in his eyes for the direction of my life. i gave him one of the cards keri designed for us to pass out. we hand them to the people along the way. a simultaneous hello and goodbye. they are beautiful and we love them. so today we ride to sacramento to see christian, our brains full of new decisions:

1. henceforth, we will be riding in "street clothes." we have abandoned the spandex and cycling shirts for the comfortability of not feeling funny.

2. we have established a system of alternating paying for meals. mike's turn, jeff's turn, mike's turn, jeff's turn. the system is beautiful. like volleyball rotation.

3. i have acquired shorter bungee-cords which is a beautiful thing. trust me.

4. a few days ago, we made a trip to bananna republic {no, i am not proud of that} so that i could buy one more pair of boxers {a total of three} as my clothing seem to be growing dirty really fast, and yes i will admit to an unnatural amount of gas. it was there, that while trying on a shirt, i set my $170.00 cycling glasses down, and never saw them again. god dammit. i will be posting an open letter to deanne mccartle of oakley in a few days, asking for a reimbursement. stay tuned.

5. i have concluded that if someone lets me pitch my tent in their yard, i will without hesitation request a shower. i typically don't like imposing on people, but this is different.

there are more, but i am tired of writing and feel the words stumbling out clumsily today. a mouthful of rocks. i will from now on, be posting the distances of the days. perhaps you will like that. perhaps not. i don't really care to be honest, because i like it. so there. big love from davis.

Posted by jeff pitcher at June 7, 2004 11:08 AM

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