Jedi Politics and Gettysburg Pennsylvania Day 4 - Thursday - June 6, 2002  Back   |   Next

I awake to smell of chocolate chip pancakes made by Jeff, the Jedi padawan learner. We drink OJ and discuss socio-political matters of the Battle of Geonosis, Jedi, the Rebellion, and the Empire. Jeff shows me his Star Wars collecting cards and I realize the Force is strong in this one. The Dingles. From left to right: Amy, Mrs. Dingle, Jeff, and Robin At breakfast we share our dreams. I dreamt that the College of William and Mary sent me a notice saying that I had several Fs and that if I wanted to keep my diploma then I would have to return for summer school! I awoke disoriented, but the smell of breakfast cooking, and the ache of my stiff limbs brought me back to reality. After saying goodbye to Amy and the Dingles I set out for Gettysburg. I was hoping to get to the Gettysburg bike shop so they could fix my rear wheel. After taking 997 North from Mont Alto I turned east along Route 30, the Lincoln Highway. This road had been one of the only routes from the east to the western frontiers back in the day. To get to Gettysburg I travel though the Caledonia Forest and over many hills, which make my legs ache, heart pump furiously, and my mind wander the borderlands of Mordor where I begin to grumble. Then I go down a nice long hill at 35 mph, farms, auto shops, and taxidermies whizzing by. I no longer take the downward slopes with caution, hands riding the breaks, and legs tensed. Now, I embrace every descent with all my being, face first, back low upon the frame, and knees tucked in for a more aerodynamic rush. And all the darkness that had been building up inside me from climb peddling (and walking as cars roared past belching black exhaust) washes away with the wind and pines. I set up camp about five miles west of Gettysburg. A RV almost brushes me off the road. Tourist traffic demoralizes me. After my time in Williamsburg, I am determined not be a professional tourist. Instead I will approach touristy areas like Indiana Jones; I will speak the locale dialect, fit in, and not gawk like chicken hawk in a gummy worm shop. The mechs at the Gettysburg bike shop fix my rear wheel and hook me up with some slicker road tires. Before this I had been riding my Jamis Dakota XC with thick mountain bike tires. I thought it would be nice to have the option to go off road and I knew that when I get to Big Sky Country I would want to check out the mountain bike single-track trails of the Great Divide. But it now made better sense to exchange the tires so I can ride at a better pace since most of my journey is on paved road. A farm just a few miles north of Mont Alto, PA. Another storm slams the countryside as I step into the shop so I stay to hang out for a while. The mechanics reassure me that I will have a better time negotiating the Rockies and Sierras then I will with the mountains and hills of Pennsylvania. This is glad news for me because these hills were beginning to get on my nerves. I was even wondering about my trip. How could I go west to the Rockies if I having such problems here in the Appalachian foothills?