June 3, 2024

Macon to Laurel, MS

Somewhere in western Alabama, a pretty heavy storm cloud blocked my way. I stopped and put on my rain gear and was soon in the middle of the deluge. I don’t mind a bit of rain as long as I’m prepared—which I was, but heavy and incessant downpours are not fun. This one was heavy at first, but tapered off to drizzles. The sun appeared like Helios himself made the command as I crossed the border into Mississippi.

I got some good love from Max before leaving.

I’ve had better rides. It’s not that the ride itself was bad, but my head wasn’t in it. I decided to ride to Austin for my fellowship, like I did a couple of years ago for the Society conference in New Jersey, but unlike in 2022, the build-up to my departure did not mentally prepare me to leave. I’m not sure why, but I’m distracted.

It didn’t help, either, that I decided to top off my tank first-thing. For some reason the GPS was taking me down Zebulon, so I stopped at a gas station west of I-475. And I could not get the BMW R 1200 GS’ gas cap open. The tank was half-full, so there was likely some pressure built up in the tank, but no matter what I tried, I couldn’t get the damn thing open. It’s not too late to take the Tesla, I thought, beginning to sweat in my helmet. A quick Google search gave me a couple of suggestions to try—though carrying a Torx wrench to loosen the bolts around the gas cap was not too helpful. Finally after about ten minutes, the tank opened and I topped off the tank. Still, this made me wonder if I should ride.

Leaving the station, I got to this roundabout on Thomaston, and a Jeep totally ignored me and pulled out right in front of me. Just a mile further, a Subaru was driving in my lane. If I were superstitious, I might have turned around right then.

For some reason, too, the GPS was taking me in what I felt was a strange route, through Americus and even further south. The day progressed like that, as it directed me in what felt like a circuitous way through the belt line of Alabama. I hit small patches of light rain, and the temperature fluctuated between the upper-70s and mid-80s. Nothing too bad nor too exciting.

By midafternoon, the clouds in the west began to threaten. I rode through the storm for the last 50-or-so miles of Alabama and into Mississippi. I removed my rain gear, and less than an hour later, I pulled in to Laurel, MS. I rode though downtown and recognized a couple of buildings, but it was crowded and I was tired, so I checked in to a hotel and called it a day.

Not riding for a while and then doing a marathon (about 400 miles) is not a good idea. Still, I made it and spent the evening rehydrating. I have another 400 miles tomorrow to get to Livingston, TX.

I wish I could say more about Laurel, MS, as Autumn regretted that she couldn’t visit with me. However, I was in no mood to sightsee this time, so maybe she and I can come back later. It seemed a pleasant enough town, but being on my bike was an inconvenience for anything further today. Funny, it seemed very little like the Laurel presented in Home Town.