As I write this in mid May I’m a few days away from leaving on another cross-country ride. The scoot is on a truck headed to the Gulf Coast, and I’ll be following it down in a few days. When you read this in early June, I’ll just about be getting back home to Seattle. In between I’ll be wandering and exploring what’s down the road, and marveling at the beauty and bounty that is our great country.
I’m aiming to do some riding in a part of the country I’ve never really explored, from the Gulf Coast of Texas, through the Bayou of Louisiana, up along the Mississippi River, and across Arkansas and Oklahoma, then North through Iowa and heading West again through Nebraska before reaching familiar homeland territory in Colorado, Wyoming, Utah and back up towards Washington. More miles on the bike, and the last few states in the lower 48 to color in on the patch on my jacket so I can brag I have ridden the bike in all the lower 48.
After spending more than twenty years in Seattle I’m especially looking forward to riding some more miles in the South. Not only for the warmth and the sunshine, but for the people. We here in the Pacific Northwest – particularly in the Puget Sound region, tend to be rather cold and damp, just like our weather. We are introverted, insulated, non-social, and unapproachable -- walking around huddled in our GoreTex, holding a cup of Starbucks and listening to our i-Pods. A lot of people here tend to thumb their noses at the South – dismissing it as a region full of uneducated rednecks. Some of my friends make a face when I tell them where I’m heading on this trip, and ask “why would you want to go to that backwater?” As a rule, people here don’t talk to each other, nod on the street, or say hello or make eye contact. You can ride a bus downtown for 40 minutes and never say a word to, or even acknowledge your seatmate exists. I’ve had more conversations on the New York City subway than I have on a bus in Seattle I’m not sure why that is – if it’s the weather here, or what, but it’s the exact opposite it seems in the South.
But we bikers on the other hand are a little different – as a rule we generally aren’t quite as introverted as most folks generally in the Northwest. We have a good time talking and chatting and riding with, and even waving to total strangers. It’s said once you become a biker, you are instantly a friend with other bikers. Too bad the rest of the world isn’t quite that way.
In the South I actually tend to not ride as far every day because I simply don’t have time! When I stop for gas, food, or to see something interesting, someone will always, and I mean always, start a conversation, offer advice, or suggestions, and just generally chat and be friendly and say hello. Since I’m a chatty guy by nature too, we end up in a long conversation and time flies away. Here if you stop and say hi, people look away, and if you ask for directions, tend to just mumble something and point. Why is that?
Apparently it was later than I figured, and closing time was 10pm, and I rolled into the parking lot at 9:58pm. As I walked up I could see them heading over to lock the door and turn the open sign off, so I waved and said, sorry, and turned around. The waitress opened the door and said, “come on in honey!” So I turned around and went back up the steps and apologized for not realizing how late it was and asking what they had left. She beamed and said, “you just come in and sit down, we’ve got everything on the menu left, want some sweat tea?”
So there I sat, just me, the waitress and the cook – they cooked me up something special, even starting the grill again, and then sat with me and we had a grand old time talking for two hours. They wanted to know all about the bike and where I was from and going. None of them had been “out west” as they called it, and were curious about it and about the people. I had my i-Phone full of pictures and we thumbed through them. And I had not been in Alabama, so I wanted to know all about the area, and they told me. We laughed, ate the best BBQ I’ve had in ages, and the three of us finished off a peach pie, and half a gallon of sweet tea. I’m sure they were looking forward to quitting time, but they stayed and served a wary traveler, and we all have a memory of a great evening. I can’t imagine a restaurant up here doing that.
I hope we all remember that as we go through what’s I’m afraid is bound to be a very un-civil political campaign season. Fortunately for us bikers, there’s always the road when it gets to be a bit much. I’ll see you out there.
Gary can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org and you can read his blog at http://grgardner.livejournal.com