I arrived at Silver city, not really knowing anyone, not really feeling comfortable. Stranded with the most bare minimum of supplies wears heavy on the mind. Combine that with the potential lost of the things you really worked hard to put together to conquer your dream and the mind starts to crumble under the weight.
I had a very weak moment. Thinking, What's the message in this most recent turn of events.
I lost all yes. But I didn't lose my GPS, nor my maps, nor my charger a half of my cell batteries. I still have my helmet and my cycling shoes along with my cycling clothes. So whats the message, again is what I am left thinking.
Obsessing about all the things I should have done different is no help at all either.
But yesterday EVE, my morale was spiraling and all I could think of was what the easiest way home would be, time to pack it up, FATE has spoken.
Andrew, who lives at the Bike Hostel and Jared, started hanging out with me and we spoke and we laughed and joked, and I started feeling better. Crisis adverted.
That eve, Andrew invited me to go to Pinos Altos to the oldest Saloon in the world. We went, had drinks, hung out then headed back.
The bed they gave me sits on the second floor where the Art Studio is located, and then perched nearly 12 feet off the ground sits the bed way up high, 3 stories from the level ground.
I slept like a rock in my high nested perch.
Got up today, got dressed and headed out on a bike That Andrew lent me, and rode down to have my first real cup of coffee. Rode around some more, stopped in at Hila Hike a bike, and then checked out a park and now I am sitting at the coffee house listening to Older Mature Hippies beating drums and playing guitars.
Not bad I guess.
You know what they say, when you get Lemons, Make Lemonade.
Take Care,
Laters,
The NaKeD InDiaN
1 comment:
You need to post up on the bus company's Facebook and Twitter pages, etc. A little public exposure sometimes helps to move things along.
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