Day Fifty: worm fiddlin' , angel, neel

Frequently, when it's cold, my toes go numb, sometimes to the point of hurting. While riding in Texas, I found a Trick-or-Treat bag on the side of the road and used it to cover up my right foot. It worked so well that I found a Target bag for my left foot and just stuck them into my handlebar bag to use later. I used them today. Not only do they keep my feet warm, they're quite stylish.

From mark on a bike 08 3

From mark on a bike 08 3

The roads are really nice today.

From mark on a bike 08 3

From mark on a bike 08 3

As is the scenery...

From mark on a bike 08 3

From mark on a bike 08 3

In Caryville, I saw this sign:

From mark on a bike 08 3

I have no idea what "worm fiddlin" is but I'm sure it's illegal in most states.

Ater 35 miles I stopped in Chipley for lunch. I turned off the route and onto Main Street looking for a place to eat. When I didn't see anything for several blocks I asked a guy coming oat of an appliance store about a good place to eat.

After thinking for a second he mumbled something about one place being closed, then he pointed to a sidestreet and said more clearly, "There's a place down that street called Angel's. It's owned by some black people." Then, after realizing how that must've sounded, he added, "but I've eaten there."

I pedaled across the street and around the corner to Angel's, an all-you-can-eat buffet for $8.00.

After eating my eight dollars' worth, I moved over into the sun to warm up. There was only one other adult in the place, a woman. From fifty feet away she yelled, "Where'd you start?" We yelled back and forth for a couple of minutes until I finally got up and sat closer.

The woman's name is Tina, but everyone knows her as Angel. She had a lot of questions about my bike trip, and I asked her a few questions as well. I asked her what the farthest she's ever been from Chipley. She went on a cruise to the Bahamas once, but other than that she's never been more than a hundred miles from Chipley. She and her husband used to take a vacation every year, but they haven't been able to since they started being foster parents.

Angel has ten foster kids, ranging in age from sixteen months to sixteen years. No, that's not a typo. TEN kids.

She doesn't get paid for them, other than Medicaid, and each one has their own difficulties. The three-year-old, for example, showed what she learned from her mom: how to cut cocaine with a credit card and roll a dollar bill up for her mom so she can snort it. No, that's not a typo either... THREE years old.

She's been married nineteen years, but she and her husband have been together since elementary school. He works at the local prison and also works as a personal trainer on the side.

We talked a while about her medical problems. A doctor has recommended she have surgery, and she's not altogether sure she wants to have it done at this time.

As I was pedaling away, she yelled for me to stop and said the newspaper would probably want to interview me. Chipley is a small town with not much going on and they're always looking for a story. We walked next door to the newspaper office and she went inside while I waited outside. When she returned she told me that one of the reporters is out on a story and the other one is trying to finish writing a story before his deadline, which is in fifteen minutes. She said he'd come over to the cafe when he was done.

I waited for more than half an hour while Angel did some things in the back of the cafe. On one other occasion, in 1982, I waited on a reporter, and the wait was so long that it ended up being my shortest day ever (8 miles).

I left a note for Angel and took off.

It was almost 2:30 when I left. I had spent more than two hours at the cafe but didn't mind. I always enjoy meeting people like Angel - she comes by her nickname honestly.

From mark on a bike 08 3

For the last twenty miles to Marianna I turned on some music and the time and the miles passed quickly.

Seems like a nice place to camp for the night....

From mark on a bike 08 3

From mark on a bike 08 3

After checking into the hotel I talked to Heather, as I do almost every evening, then blogged for two hours until 8:10. Since I didn't see anything to eat within sight of the hotel I asked the hotel manager. He said all of the cafes close at 8:00. The only places to eat that are still open are the fast food chains.

Ten minutes later I was sitting in McDonald's. After dinner I walked across the street to the Shell convenience store to get some snacks for later.

I was wandering around the store trying to decide what I wanted when the guy behind the counter asked me if I needed some help. I said, "No, thanks. I'm just browsing." He wasn't familiar with the word and asked me to repeat it, then spell it. He wrote it down, then thanked me for helping him learn a new word.

I thought it was interesting that he's learning new words and improving his English skills when he already speaks better English than most of the customers coming in to buy beer or cigarettes.

We started talking a bit, and I learned his name is Neel, from India. He was pretty excited to find out I'm riding my bike across the country, and even more excited to learn that I'm blogging it. I gave him the URL of markonabike08 and asked him if I could take his picture... he readily agreed. He also paid for an ice cream bar that I had on the counter.

From mark on a bike 08 3

On my way out of the store, he offered anything in the store... "Take anything you like!" I really wanted to hang out and talk some more... Neel seems like a nice guy with some good stories... but it was already late so I headed back to the hotel and fell asleep as soon as I climbed into bed.


57.01 miles
13.4 average
26.9 maximum
4:15:04
2480.8 total