So... I got up in the morning pigging out to the max on the buffet breakfast that the hotel that I stayed in the last offered. Stayed up late last night drinking a whole pot of coffee myself. My mind in complete overdrive. I told my story to the waitress at the Perkins and she was absolutely astounded. She hooked me up with a free meal maybe out of pity, maybe somthing else, I don't really know. The waitress probably about a year or so older than me talked outside just as I was leaving about where we stood in our lives, what the hell we were doing here and what do we do from there. As we sat outside at midnight, she leaned against the wall, as to take a long and needed break from the burden that life had bestowed upon her. The cigarette that lay their pinched in her calioused hands and myself were the only friends that either of us seemed to have at that particular fleeting moment in time. She told me of how she had hitchiked all the way from Colorado to Duluth about a year ago to start a new life. She worked two jobs, one down the street and worked the night shift at Perkins. As she told me about how she had ended up in Duluth there was obviously a deep amount of pain that surrounded the topic. She let out a soft wimper and tear as she told me what she was doing here. All of her dreams a youthful ambitions of doing somthing with her life had culminated in the occupation of a Perkins waitress. She felt so much more able, so much more potential fro all her talents. I told her what Scott had told me earlier that night about how people only remember the trainwreaks. She laughed, but told me that she remembered the good times to and that they were always her favorite stories. Maybe its a little bit of both I suppose, life being a process of ups and downs to which both can be equally memoriable. I do think though that the painful and hard ones make the good ones more appreciable. We said our goodbyes, and I knew deep down inside that she wanted me to go home with her that night and clense her sorrows, but I didn't quite feel obligated, with a girlfriend at home at the time it was just not an option.
After a long night of writing and reflection, I awoke. Got up in the morning pigging out to the max on the buffet breakfast that the Super 8 that I stayed in that night offered. I mean if they were gonna charge me 65 dollars to stay there for one damn night I was going to eat the piss out of their "free" breakfast. The waitress at Perkins suggested that I take the city bus up to the airport, from there I could rent a car and drive out to where my bike was and be on the road again by midday. I negociated the city bus route for a couple of hours until I found myself up at the airport in Duluth. I jumped on the bus and the first time completely took it the wrong way to the end of town opps. And after a long string of stops at the mall and downtown Duluth I ended up at the airport a few hours later. When I got to the airport, nobody would let me rent a car without a 'credit' card. Apparently "debit" cars just won't work and despite my somber story that I had for all the rental car folks company policy was company policy and my dreams of being able to get a rental car were quickly drying up. Thinking that I could possiably apply for and instantly recieve a credit card, I asked one the rental car attendants where the closest bank was. She gave me directions and I walked for a couple of miles with my messenger bag and sleeping bag until I found the bank. Apparently, it takes 7 to 10 days to receive a credit card and there is no such thing as an instant one. Shucks, well what am I going to do now? So I decide that the next best thing is to take a cab. 70 dollars later the cab takes me to the end of the dirt road where I can hike out to find my bike. I start hiking and plan on using my GPS along with peices of paper from my journal to mark out where I've been out in the woods and where the entrance where the hunting cabin lies and trail ends. Luckily when I dumped my bike I was able to get the slightest of a signal to be able to mark where my bike was so that I would be able to come back and get it. So I start hiking and plan on using my GPS along with the peices of paper from my journal to map everything out. Jumping into the woods with extreme caution, I can feel the spine tingling fear that I had the day before as I entered this situation. The last thing I wanted was to end up in the same position that I was the day before. And yet it happened that way.... After scowering the woods for about 3 hours in search of my bike, I could not get an accurate reading from the GPS and although I could find my way back to the end of the trailhead, I could not find my bike in the dense woods. I was defeated. Here I was with no bicycle and 15 miles away from the nearest house the taxi had left along time ago and without a a car and a bike, all I had was my own two feet. The only option that I saw that I had left was to say screw this and go home. The problem is that before I get home I have to hike 15 miles to the end of this damn logging road to get help. With soaking wet feet from hiking through marshes I walked and by the time I got done with my walk I was completely haggard and defeated.
I found a lady outside mowing her lawn. Now this the first person that I've seen in 6 hours (like yesterday) and I am more than excited. Barely being able to walk anymore because of all the blisters that have accumulated on my feet I greet her. She looks as if she is scared of me, and given the way that I probably looked I wouldn't blame her. She calls out her husband who hears my story and rather than letting me use his phone to call someone in town, he feels highly confident that finding the lost bike will be no problem whatsoever, especially since its marked by GPS. We all jump in his pickup with his 4 wheeler loaded in the back and drive out to the hunting lodge. Now apparently he has some sort of super GPS that can see through trees and when he sticks the coordinates into his machine, the bike is found within 15 minutes. Its absolutely amazing! Here is me thinking that the Snake my favorite bicycle in the world is completely gone for good! And he finds it! We load it onto the back of his 4 wheeler and drove back to the end of the road. Andy, the guy that help me out more than I could have ever known put my butt back on my feet. He was late for his softball game so he quickly had to leave shortly there after. But I was back on my feet, aboard the Snake. Barely being able to walk because of the blisters on my feet the size of Texas, I rolled my body onto the saddle of the Snake and started pedaling back toward Duluth. By the time I arrived in Duluth it was rainy, cold and misreable. Soon I had to concede to another hotel room. 80 more dollars down the drain. Throughout this experience I had spent 210 dollars and in a matter of 2 days had spent a majority of my budget for the entire trip. It was time for the Snake and I to head back home.
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