I got on the road by 8:15 and was able to navigate my way
out of the city with little effort due to there being no cars on the road at
that time on a Saturday morning. But,
downtown Utica was not going to let me leave totally unscathed.
As I passed an innocuous looking woman walking along the
sidewalk, she merrily commented that it looked like I was going for a long
ride. “Boston to San Francisco” I called
back. “You’re really going all that way?” The light at the intersection turned
yellow. I could have made it through
without a problem, but I stopped because it was a woman asking about my
trip. Just over a dozen people had asked
me what I was doing over the past several days, and I had noticed that they
were all men. Apparently women had no
interest whatsoever in what I was up to (or, more likely, they knew exactly
what I was up to without having to ask and had already made up their minds that
I was an idiot).
She came over to where I was parked at the red light and
told me how she liked my bike, and that she used to have a bicycle but then it
got stolen but you can’t let life like that get you down and as long as you’re
a good person that’s all that matters and I’m all for helping the charities
with the sick kids God bless ‘em but the fancy new roundabout they built a few
blocks away up the street a ways was a big waste of money and…
Oh, crap. She wasn’t
an innocuous woman, she was a crazy lady.
The mayor came out – he’s a big fat guy – and made a speech but the whole
thing was a waste of money but no kid deserves to be sick like she told Lisa about
it who moved to Florida and Michael says I should be in a hospital but that’s
not for me because I’m only 54 years old how old do I look? I’m still young and in this life you have to
be something you want to be but if you ask me it’s what you do that matters not
putting in fancy traffic circles where you don’t need them ridiculous…
I felt really bad for her, but it was obvious that if I let
her she’d go on rapid-fire talking until one of us passed out in the
street. I gently tried to wrap up the
“conversation,” but this only made her more frantic. Her words sped up as if she was trying to
share everything in her head with me all at once. She finally had someone who seemed to be
listening to her and she wasn’t going to squander the opportunity.
When the light next turned green (I’d already missed a
couple of cycles), I began to pull away saying that I had to be on my way. As I rolled through the intersection, she
began to chase along beside me, all the while spouting who knows what louder
and louder as the gap between us widened.
I felt awful, but all I could do was wave as I picked up speed and wish
her a wonderful day. I could see her in
my rear view mirror still chattering away after I was well out of earshot.
I hope no more women ask about my ride!
With that strange encounter behind me, the rest of the day’s
travels were thankfully boring. I
stopped at the Knotty Pine Restaurant for lunch and took advantage of the
outdoor BBQ pit, getting a delicious pulled pork and brisket sandwich. I arrived at the motel and the befuddled
fellow at the front desk somehow managed to successfully check me in despite
his questionable level of competence. He
didn’t know if the package that had been delivered for me had arrived since he
wasn’t there the day before. When I
asked if he could maybe check around for it anyway, he looked at me as if I had
three heads. Imagine his amazement when
he found the package on the manager’s desk!
He then gave me a registration card to fill in. I pointed out that they already had all my
relevant information on the computer from when I made the reservation, but he
couldn’t explain why I had to also write all the same information down. When I presented him with the form, he
pointed out that I hadn’t filled in my driver’s license number. He was holding my credit card and license in
his hand, so I just filled in a random string of numbers and letters in the
space he indicated.
I waited for him to compare what I wrote to what was
actually on my license, but he never bothered checking. He then told me I had to put down the make,
model, and license plate of my car. The
guy had watched me roll up and get off my bicycle, for Pete’s sake! I then made the mistake of asking if he could
suggest a good local pub. All I got was
a shrug and an awkwardly clueless smile.
Okay, chief, I think we’re done here.
I managed to locate the Dark Horse Tavern, which was…you guessed it, 1.3
miles away! Mmmm, grilled chicken and
portabella mushroom sandwich…
What I Learned: Downtown Utica is rife with large black women dressed in crisp, white, old-timey nurse uniforms.
Distance Today: 43 miles
Total Distance: 376 miles
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