Re time zone: I really don’t. My phone says eastern but the map disagrees. I’m close to the border (finally) and my friend Colin said it’s based on cell phone towers, so probably I’m actually still central time but effectively eastern. It’s weirdly disconcerting.
I’m in a Motel 6 in Danville, IL. After three failed tries at getting me a room that wasn’t, you know, unclean and/or already occupied, I’m finally in a first-floor room that I can’t get into without the clerk letting me in. Totally safe, she assures me.
Today I discovered halfway through the middle of nowhere that I left my phone charger cord at the motel in Champaign/Urbana. And I also misconstrued my route today — not in terms of distance, but in terms of… desolation. On paper it looked like there were lots of little towns, with gas stations and such… Instead I found myself dropping my bike against a tree, ears beginning to ring, and hitting the doorbell at a house with some cars in the driveway, begging for water.
(They stared at me for a second, suspicious, but as soon as I held out my empty bottles they took them without question, and brought me back two delicious, life-giving, full-to-the-brim bottles of cold water.)
So I bought a painfully overpriced charger from a travel station — which, no joke, for a second it flitted across my brain, like, is this a mirage — and managed to rescue my phone from 1% charge.
At least I’ve already been asked out to dinner by the drunk guy in the lobby who overheard my room number when he was trying to pay his weekly bill. Passed up on a lovely dinner at the Big Boy across the street. I would have gone swimming earlier, but apparently the advertised pool is now a weed garden.
I like the way people look at me with surprised eyes, when they ask me where I’m from or where I’m going, and I just sort of shrug. I’ve met some people already along the way who are doing or have done something similar, but they’ve all had a destination, or a point of return.
I rock back and forth on my thighs sometimes, pressing my fingertips into the muscles. My body is soft and squishy and weak, but I make it do these things. Still trying to parse out which pain is healthy and which pain is just pain.