April 18th: Errol Flynn and bike ride to ocean part deux
[ posted by mcdeviltoast ]
Day 214
Woke, had some bakery goodness, wrote a little. The tree dumpling place was out of the usual pork ones, so Heather and I rode to the hotel for the legendary chicken sandwiches. After a half hour wait, they brought us company sandwiches. When I went outside, the wind had blown my bike over and the front mud guard was bent against my tire. What else could go wrong?
I took a shower at my place and shaved my fu manchu into an "Errol Flynn."
Perhaps a change in facial hair would change my luck as well. We rode out on our second attempt to reach the ocean. This time, we took the definite river road instead of the hopeless switchbacks. Just a bit on from the levee where we had our picnic last time, road veered sharply left and led us past some factories, chemical plants and such. We turned down one lane that deposited us on a dirt road that snaked along the riverside. Grey sand and filthy-looking water lined the banks, victims no doubt of the surrounding industry. At least the sun was shining.
After a few kilometers of sidewinding, we opted for the nearby paved road, which had more traffic, but was a straight line. As we got on the road, a couple motorcyclists engaged Heather in conversation that amounted to them telling us the ocean was 100 kilometers away and then they laughed at us.
We aborted the ocean venture yet again, turned 'round and stopped at a roadside mom-n-pop grocery, and instantly gathered a crowd. One chap in particular who told us he was the protector of the peace and had a communist party belt buckle questioned the many differences of America and China (Did we have rapeseed oil? Farms? Were the houses nicer in America?)
Catching a cab back,we had the driver stop at the TV tower so we could climb it, but it was locked and we couldn't very well hop the gate under the watchful gaze of the construction workers tarring the roundabout.
We played badminton on the roof, but the wind kept sending the shuttlecocks over the side. The Errol Flynn was no more lucky than the fu manchu. I went and practiced songs for a while, then Heather and I caught some dinner at the tents since the tree dumpling place couldn't be bothered to make any more dumplings all day.
I rode back, worked on blog catch-up, watched a bit of BBC, laughed at people gathered outside the Sistine chapel waiting for smoke. Dorks. Slept like a cloud stapled to velvet.
Woke, had some bakery goodness, wrote a little. The tree dumpling place was out of the usual pork ones, so Heather and I rode to the hotel for the legendary chicken sandwiches. After a half hour wait, they brought us company sandwiches. When I went outside, the wind had blown my bike over and the front mud guard was bent against my tire. What else could go wrong?
I took a shower at my place and shaved my fu manchu into an "Errol Flynn."
Perhaps a change in facial hair would change my luck as well. We rode out on our second attempt to reach the ocean. This time, we took the definite river road instead of the hopeless switchbacks. Just a bit on from the levee where we had our picnic last time, road veered sharply left and led us past some factories, chemical plants and such. We turned down one lane that deposited us on a dirt road that snaked along the riverside. Grey sand and filthy-looking water lined the banks, victims no doubt of the surrounding industry. At least the sun was shining.
After a few kilometers of sidewinding, we opted for the nearby paved road, which had more traffic, but was a straight line. As we got on the road, a couple motorcyclists engaged Heather in conversation that amounted to them telling us the ocean was 100 kilometers away and then they laughed at us.
We aborted the ocean venture yet again, turned 'round and stopped at a roadside mom-n-pop grocery, and instantly gathered a crowd. One chap in particular who told us he was the protector of the peace and had a communist party belt buckle questioned the many differences of America and China (Did we have rapeseed oil? Farms? Were the houses nicer in America?)
Catching a cab back,we had the driver stop at the TV tower so we could climb it, but it was locked and we couldn't very well hop the gate under the watchful gaze of the construction workers tarring the roundabout.
We played badminton on the roof, but the wind kept sending the shuttlecocks over the side. The Errol Flynn was no more lucky than the fu manchu. I went and practiced songs for a while, then Heather and I caught some dinner at the tents since the tree dumpling place couldn't be bothered to make any more dumplings all day.
I rode back, worked on blog catch-up, watched a bit of BBC, laughed at people gathered outside the Sistine chapel waiting for smoke. Dorks. Slept like a cloud stapled to velvet.
---
[ posted by mcdeviltoast @ 4/18/2005 03:17:00 AM ]
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The dumbtronica act Montana & McDeviltoast, along with their friends, keep each other updated on their activities. Much fun having by all, and Pockys fear for their lives!