About being a rabbit: in my mind it is not derogatory. It is a game, a fun challenge for yourself. Sometimes I’m the rabbit and don’t mind one bit. I will often play with the chaser. As he/she gets closer I’ll ease up the speed, gradual enough that my game is not immediately obvious. Once, as my chaser passed I said, “Thought I’d make you work for it” and he replied “Thank you”. But now I’m repeating myself from a previous post.

Butch was there already and Dudley came in shortly after me (Here’s a photo of Dudley’s arrival - click for a better view of his bike). I had managed to pass him without knowing it. He must have been off his bike at a stop, Carlson or Bassfield, and maybe in the restroom as I went by. Even so I don’t know how I missed his new P-38 with its fairing.

Now, there is a story. He sold me his P-38 a year or so ago. I bought it thinking my wife would like it, and she did, except that with her short legs and the P-38’s wide seat she could not put her feet down flat when stopped. Dudley told me that if I ever sold it he wanted first chance to buy it back. I should have told him that I would have to get a lot more for it than I paid since I had gotten a really nice deal, but I didn’t. I did tell him that I was not dissatisfied with the purchase as I would like to keep it as an incentive to get down to its weight limit of 220 pounds and then ride it myself. After telling him that he wouldn’t take it back even though I offered  after seeing him a little sad over it on a couple of rides. Nice guy. Well, he must have gotten to missing it even more for he just bought a brand spanking new one, upgrading to a slightly larger version.

Out of Bassfield I rode with both Butch and Dudley awhile, then with just Butch and then with just Dudley and then solo. Butch wanted to do the whole trace and need to speed up, possibly sacrificing some socializing, I didn’t. So, I turned at Epley leaving him to his mission. I headed back to Sumrall where I again met Dudley and rode with him, in the reverse direction. The ride was good, the company was good. Then I lost my recumbent smile, i.e. lost my Garmin GPS. I didn’t know it at the time but it happened when I stopped to adjust my seat (the seat  had slipped a bit and I could feel my knees barking at me). I first missed the Edge 305 a couple miles beyond the seat adjustment. I was so upset. Made Dudley go on while I rushed back along our path, shouting out to each person I met in case they had found the GPS.  My mind was rushing and I could hardly focus as I rode and searched; I came to think that it was most likely lost were I had adjusted the seat, but perhaps further back where I had made a panic stop at an intersection; the bike shooting through my legs and then vertical as I stood and held the handlebars (Yes, talking while driving). However, when I reached the site of the adjustment, there it was, in the grass where I had bent over the X-Stream to move the seat. Must have knocked it off with my upper arm, or snagging it with my shirt sleeve. I was so happy. It was a good day again. I turned toward Prentiss for the second time, again rushing because I wanted to get back for the 3:00 drawing for the free bike, a Bacchetta Bellandare (Had to be present to win, which I was but didn’t). As I passed the riders that I had shouted to before about losing the Garmin, I shared that I had found it. They seemed to be happy for me. But, how can you really tell, recumbent riders are almost always smiling.

I really enjoyed the ride. It was a beautiful day and support was great. There were snacks at all the station and stashes of water bottles along the trail between stations. You really must try to make this ride next year. Although the 126 registered riders were ample there will always be room for more.

Maybe I’ll add some more pictures and comments next week, at least correct some of this grammar written in a rush. Since Saturday I’ve been getting ready for the Coochee Invasion this weekend. I had to take the car for maintenance 3 times, but that is another story. We leave in the morning, me, Jeanne, Kurt, and Millie (Jeanne’s sister). Since van space will be limited, i.e. can’t take out any seats, I’m taking the folding Greenspeed GT-3. I’ll be the only one of our group riding but they will have plenty to do, e.g. flea markets, shopping with a sister that lives in The Villages. Kevin, my other son, will keep an eye on the place while we are gone. He lives within a stone’s throw.

After the short pause at Carlson  I headed on back to Bassfield for a more substantial lunch break. The small store where I usually buy chocolate milk and a banana is closed on Sunday, so I looked around. Actually, I’d previously been told there was food available at the Texaco station just one block south of the trace.  Surprise, surprise! The chicken was delicious and the vegetables were expertly prepared. The tea was strong and sweet, good southern tea. 

Afterwards, I was too full to ride, so I sat out front with John and talked for awhile. He was there, in the same spot, when I first arrived. We greeted each other briefly then but had a somewhat lengthy discussion after my meal. John said that he had lived in Bassfield all his life; I said "Not yet". He then gave me a hearty, polite laugh and we talked about how things had changed. He had questions about my bike which I’m always glad to discuss.

The ride home was just as pleasant as the ride out. I was a little slower at first despite my aero belly being a little more aero, or maybe because of it.