The Smallest Pebble

In an early morning dawn

when new Sol rises slowly

over far eastern ramparts,

even a lonely small pebble

can cast a long dark shadow

that shortens all too sadly

as life of day moves quiet

towards inevitable end.

 

Earth time & traffic

of deer, dogs, and cats;

of wind, rain, and snow;

make sure even the most

tiny insignificant pebble

will never sufficiently cast

that same shadow again,

having only some moment

in the glory of its long life.

A Trip to The Twilight Zone, A Short Memoir, Part Three

We were by the high school and got cold showers. Dressed in street clothes and starved we and four friends headed into town to find some dinner. Hitting several places that we knew would be offering dinners, we found out that everyone was sold out and closing up. We walked by a grocery store which was closed. A convenience store had nothing left on its shelves with any redeeming sustenance. Panic was setting in as well as already plummeted blood sugar. We wanted food. We needed drink. We wanted food. We needed drink. Desperately.

The six of us took to walking down the middle of a  street stopping cars, asking if there was someplace we might find sustenance. After stopping several unsuspecting but understanding and sympathetic motorists, there was no one had any advice. Then, we stopped  a pickup and explained our dilemma.

The driver, a nice young fellow whose name was Dave, said, “How would you like the best steak in the area?”

So twist our arms. “Jump in. It’s a few miles out of town. My wife and another friend jumped in front and the rest of us got into the truck bed. We headed out of town.

Now, Iowa is very civilized for the most part, albeit, there are pockets that, well . . . maybe not so much. And, we didn’t have clue who this guy was. I was so hungry, I started hallucinating thoughts of being kidnapped, sold to slave traders and sent to China in shipping containers, being held by some decadent cult, or being beheaded with our heads displayed on pikes at the village gate.

A Trip to The Twilight Zone, A Short Memoir, Part Two

Support means providing food, showers, beer, parties, and a big enough area to accommodate those that do not have housing or rooms to stay, which is usually 90% of the influx of the lycra clad biking horde. There are church suppers, American Legion spaghetti dinners, and a plethora of other options. This is not to mention the local bars.

So, with that said, there was this day we were riding into Forest City, home of Winnebago Industries, manufacturer of motor homes and travel trailers. It was a beautiful Iowa July day with heat and humidity radiating from the endless corn and bean fields along the route. It was the centraI part of the State and relatively flat. This days ride also included a century (100 mile) option adding about twenty five miles to the main ride. I elected to do the century which my wife declined. We planned on meeting my wife at a lake about fifteen miles from our destination where she would wait.

I got to the lake and found my wife. There was a lunch stand that sold beer. A beer and a little cool down in the lake seemed like a good idea . . . at the time. Several beers later and totally cooled down, too cooled down to the point of wanting to just stay the night, we struggled the last fifteen really, really long miles to town and our campsite.

A Trip to The Twilight Zone

This is the beginning of a short story/memoir I’m working on:

It was somewhere in the late eighties. My wife and I were on RAGBRAI, the (Des Moines) Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa, a ride from the Missouri River to the Mississippi River, usually from 450 t0 500 miles in seven days.

Now, Iowa has small towns scattered everywhere. The State is divided into section roads every mile, so while the ride is mainly east, it also wanders north and south as well so as to hit host towns along the way that can support 10,000 riders as well as support vehicles manned by friends and family.

 

More to come . . .

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