There I was, at the bottom of a forgotten road, lost, with no helpful signage except for a giant ruler to measure the flood depth if I stuck around. The pavement was a distant memory, replaced by silty sand deep enough to cover a bike chain, and I am alone.  How did I get here?

The morning ride was beautiful.    We were in Texas now, and it was starting to look like the Texas that I had seen in so many movies. The day started with a dog attack, but dogs that were so little and adorable that I was tempted to throw myself down on the grass just so they would have a win.  We had a road to ourselves, with only one car passing us the whole way.  Pretty savvy route picking, I’d say.  Something that I have been getting good at, doubly so, since Joyce pitched in to add her expertise.

It was when we stopped at the diner for lunch where a sheriff gave me a funny look, just because I was an outsider dressed in spandex, with bright lavender legs.  

Oh … the legs.  Let me explain: Bill did me a solid by ordering me some spray-on sun screen from Amazon.  I noticed that the stuff was as thick as honey, and equally as comfortable to spread on.  I tried some on my legs. It went on white – solid white – and no amount of rubbing could persuade it to fade even a shade.  Fine, I put up with being called “The Ghost Rider” for the morning.  But then something weird happened: the sun cream turned my legs purple, like Violet Beauregarde in Willy Wonka.  I tried washing the stuff off, but it stayed put like a stain.  Anyways, the Sheriff wasn’t amused and I could feel the day’s fortunes changing.

Luckily, we had planned a fun afternoon ride to some lakes.  Unluckily, the promised paved roads weren’t, the lake was dry (if it ever existed), our route was on private property … with signs saying “keep out” … in Texas,  and, for whatever reason we all decided to abandon each other at the exact same moment.

But we have some pretty special supporters who got us back together and home in no time.  We ate well, played Corn Hole for an hour, played Liar’s Dice as a group, and went to bed thinking to myself how happy I was … that I did not put the sun block on my face.