Chapter 3

I stopped at a roadside mom and pop motel left over from the days when the secondary road was the main road carrying traffic north and south. The motel was on the outskirts of a small town called Chester in South Carolina.

My plan was to make the trip on less than $500 a week. The campground had cost me $7 but the motel was $38 for a shower and a comfortable bed. I'm pretty sure it was worth it.

With any luck at all day three would end with me at least in Georgia, I thought. I left on day three in a clean new tee shirt from the five tee shirts. Each had a different colors but were the exact same design. They came in a bundle from Walmart. I had also purchased two, three packs of panties, so I had one extra of those. Yes I could have brought my old ones and save the ten bucks, but I was just in a starting over mood. The trip was supposed to clear my mind.

I stopped for breakfast in one of those small town restaurants just one step above a greasy spoon. I parked the Sprint outside in the gravel parking lot, near the front door, before I entered the building which was covered with house siding. I chose it because I saw two pedal bikes out front. They were both painted with what looked like a racing team's design. There was also a small Toyota with the same color scheme in the parking lot.

I carried my helmet in to prevent it being stolen, but also to help introduce me to the bike riders. I nodded as I passed their booth. I slipping into the booth behind them.

The waitress was younger than any other I had seen on my trip thus far. "What you having today?" she asked cheerfully.

"I think I would like a bacon egg and cheese biscuit and lots of black coffee," I replied.

After she had gone the older pedal biker asked, "You from around here?"

"No, and I don't think you are either," I suggested.

"No, we are from New Jersey," the younger of the two riders said.

"You guys have pedaled a long way," I commented.

"Yes and my legs know it," the younger one continued.

"I could never handle that. I am on a Sprint Moped," I said.

"Oh it must be rough to be hated by everyone on the road," The female Toyota driver said. She was obviously the older man's wife. "Damn that didn't sound right. I meant the car driver hate us and we hear a lot of them cursing us. Bicycle riders think Moped riders are even farther down the hierarchy of road users."

"That didn't sound much better," I said laughing. "I'm a lawyer, so I'm used to everybody hating me, till they get to know me. When they do, they still pretty much hate me."

"She didn't mean anything," the older man said. "Marg, had no filters. She just says whatever she is thinking at that moment."

"I like that," I said. "Makes it easier to use her words against her, if I ever need to." I did smile to lighten the load.

"So where you headed?" the younger one asked to break the tension.

"Eventually I plan to make it to California, but it's along ride on the Tomos. I have only been about two hundred miles so far," I admitted. "I have no idea when or if I will finish the trip."

"You all alone?" Marg asked.

"Yeah, just me," I replied.

"Are you camping along the way?" the younger man asked.

"Some, the plan is to camp a couple of nights, then stay in a motel one night."

"So how in the world do you manage without anybody to bring your equipment?" the older man asked.

"I have a trailer with a milk crate full of stuff," I replied.

"How in the world do you get enough supplies in a milk crate," Marge continued. She had obviously decided to put me in my place. She shouldn't have bothered. I already knew that I was an ill prepared rookie at this sort of thing.

"By a pros standards, I don't have enough I'm sure. I'm just out to have some fun and clear my mind. I'm not working on any records or trying to prove anything. It's all about the sights, sounds, and the people I meet along the way.

"Well we need to get on the road," the older guy said to break the tension again. I watched as he pulled something from his pocket. On closer inspection I saw that it was a driver's license, a credit card, and a few bills all held together by an couple of inch wide loop of bicycle inner tube. Now that sure as hell beat my wallet. Even though the wallet was purchased especially for the trip it was headed for the trash as soon as I found some bicycle inner tube.

"I really like your money clip," I said with a laugh. "You don't sell those do you?"

"Hell no, but I'm sure we have a piece of an old inner tube you can have. I'll bring you a piece before we leave," the younger of the two riders said smiling. Marge looked rather unhappy at the thought. "We use them for everything. Bits of inner tubes are like big ass rubber bands," he added.

"I really would appreciate it. Anything to make my life easier would be appreciated," I said.

My food came as they walked to the register. I was half finished when the young man came in with the three inch wide piece of tube. You are going to have to cut it yourself Mom is insisting we get moving."

"Well good luck to you guys," I said. "And thanks."

He smiled and nodded as he headed for the door. I watched the two bikes head off in the direction I planned to go myself. After I finished my food, I sat at the table and cleaned out my wallet. I put the five twenty dollar bills and the wad of ones into a pile on the table. Then I went through the junk in my wallet. I didn't need the insurance cards in my pocket or the other bits and pieces of my old life. I put them in storage both mentally and physically. I planned to put them into the trailers somewhere.