Roll Tide (Take 2)

First of all, Melonie your comment made search furiously to see if my lost post from yesterday was somehow saved somewhere. No luck.

Second, if you know me at all, it pains me GREATLY just to write that title. That said, it seemed like the very obvious choice early in yesterday’s ride. I was setting out for a long day in the saddle to Tuscaloosa (forever now to be referred to as Tuscaloser). Within 4 miles, I had left Mississippi and was back in Alabama, heading to Red Bay for breakfast as there was no place to eat in Belmont. As I’m riding into Red Bay, I noticed multiple RVs that had Roll Tide on them. I saw a bench in someone’s yard that said “Bama”. I even saw a garbage can with Roll Tide stenciled on it. I figured this thing is too easy and just going to write itself. After breakfast at Jacks (Jack in the Box rebranded, apparently) and a rousing round of “Stump the New Worker” (an updated, politically correct version of the old favorite Stump the New Girl back from our last trip in ’88), I started the long day for real. As I rode, I began to get worried. The Bama and Roll Tide items were not there. I couldn’t find anything else. In fact, I even saw an Auburn mailbox. I’m sure the kinfolk weren’t happy about the one that got away and Cletus is probably not welcome at Mama’s for Sunday dinner anymore. You think I’m kidding. I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think I am!

What ended up transpiring over the next 9 hours of riding was a generally boring, surprisingly pleasant roll through NW Alabama. I did have a few hair-raising (at least they would have been if I had hair) incidents with motor vehicles. The worst was the person who passed me in a right turn lane and immediately turned into a parking lot instead of waiting the less than 5 seconds it would have taken for me to pass. That elicited a loud, pointed “nice f***ing move you moron.” That, in turn, resulted in the driver stopping his vehicle and clearly doing the math to see if he could get back out into traffic and run me over without anyone noticing or caring. Fortunately, the driver couldn’t do math or decided I wasn’t worth the effort. The scariest was the passenger in the pickup truck screaming at me as they went by, leaning halfway out the window and gesturing wildly with his hands. I couldn’t tell if he had anything (like a gun) in his hands. I expected them to be waiting for me on the next side road but thankfully, they also decided I wasn’t worth it. Thank goodness I wasn’t wearing Spandex. I think either of those encounters would have been my last!

Finally, after cruising most of the day, about 20 miles out of Tuscaloser, the hills were back. It was up and down the rest of the way and then as a final bonus, I got evening rush hour traffic. Two or three lanes, no shoulder, lots of honking. I even got stuck on another bridge and had to climb over a guardrail and heave my bike over it so I could get on the pedestrian walkway. As I’m working my way up and over the bridge, I notice an older woman walking up from the opposite direction. I moved all the way to the right, then slowed to a stop to let her pass. She stood directly in front of my bike. I’ll paraphrase here, but basically she said what the hell am I doing. I’m on the wrong side and I need to move over. Mind you, she could have taken a half step to her right and walked right on by. As for Tuscaloser, I came into town from the north. I rode straight through downtown, being honked at all the way. I rode out the south side and then went east to get to my hotel. I still have no idea where a nice part of town might be. I sure never saw it. I have absolutely no idea why top level HS athletes would choose to go there to play, especially given the other options there are in the southeast.

I’ve seen about all I need to of Alabama. (Foreshadowing).

Not sure how the folks with a 3rd grade education figure this one out.

Not sure if this guy made it. He was moving only a little slower than I was.

Just in case I forgot where I was