Mobile, Alabama (continued)

Christmas Day. I decided to extend my stay after yesterday’s ride and because of the heavy rain. And hey, it is a holiday, after all.

Justifying a day in stasis is difficult for me, to be honest. The monkey is off my back only when I’m going too fast for him to catch up.

Mobile. If you look at a map of the city, there are only three ways to cross the river: one is an interstate, inaccessible to bicyclists. The other, highway 90, is blocked by a tunnel with a “NO BICYCLES” sign (and no way I’d ride it in any case-it’s a death trap). Funny, I thought I was on the BIKE ROUTE TO MOBILE. But the way is shut.

And then there is the third route over a bridge, for hazardous cargo. It went into a different part of town, and judging by the abundance of port lifters, tankers and other industrial gunk, it’s probably going to be the wrong side of town.

It had taken longer than I expected to make it even at my rapid clip. It was almost dark, but I would have had enough time to make the stretch to the hotel with the route suggested by the bike shop… If I’d been able to get through the tunnel.

I knew immediately that the smartest and fastest thing to do would have been to hitchhike a short ride thru the tunnel. The bridge route entered into an insulated part of town with no major roads leading in the direction of my hotel. So I had no good reason to take the bridge route.

Which, of course, I did. My last spark of reason, possibly my only spark, told me “last chance”.

At first, a few boarded up homes, then the gig was on.

I was not welcome there. Some of the residents made that very clear. Specifics not to be shared here but it ranged from joking catcalls to half-hearted threats. A safe spot at a well-lit McDonald’s to check my map. St. Martin street reeked of pot all the way. I dodged people walking across the middle of the road. I gave groups of people a wide birth, especially kids.

Pride got me in but fear delivered me. Finally made it to Government Street and was greeted by the only cop I’d seen since crossing the bridge 40 minutes before. He or she shined the spotlight in my face as I rode by and kept it trained on me. I was blinded but kept riding, hoping that I wouldn’t take a header. Son of a… That’s twice in the same trip that a cop laid the beam on me.

Suddenly I was in the fancypants part of town, and I stopped at a Starbucks for agua. Pour what contempt you will upon five dollar coffee, but it was a wonderful thing to hear someone say, “Are you going cross-country? That’s so cool!” instead of threats. And they offered me coffee on the house… but who needs caffeine when your heart is already pumping concentrated adrenaline?

I rode the three or four miles to the hotel in comfort and easy darkness of a Christmas Eve. Two of my toes were solid white and took a long time to defrost. 74 miles that day, the second longest ride this tour.

…

Today is Christmas, and I’m doing nothing. It’s been raining non-stop.

Watched five hours of “Survivorman” on the Discovery channel. Good ol’ man versus nature. So simple. He nearly starves to death in each episode before calling in the cavalry. Starvation is not one of my problems.

Everything is closed in town. I mean everything. Except for Denny’s.

Tomorrow morning I’ll be waiting at the bike shop to have them look at the tire and do what they will, then off to the closest state park in Mississippi. It’s supposed to rain all this week in the Gulf states, but I’m so ready.