One month on the road today. I've decided to keep my clock on eastern time which will give me an hour extra daylight in the morning (If I can get up). I decided to head to head to Dectur a short 36 mile hop up the road in order to be able to see the Euro 2008 final. (Note Padraig, I didn't "phone in sick" today!!). This also gave a bit of a lie in which was great.
I left at 8.30, local time. As soon as I turned on the the road it was straight into the headwind. The landscape looked exactly as it had done yesterday except that the clouds were very heavy overhead and lay low in the sky. It was tougher than I expected. In the weird little mind games that you play to keep yourself strong the 36 mile hop equated to an 'easy day' & so I was switched off looking more forward to the game than actually staying focused & getting the job done. So it became more difficult, in my mind, than it should have done and with that came an element of frustration.
At some point I was in a day dream (which happens every day on the bike, you can't help it). I was brought out of me reverie by the sound of the patter of small feet. I looked around and saw a large dog charging at me from the other side of the road. This dog came charging right out of the fears that lingered at the back of my imagination. He had a large pitbull type head but his body was much larger than one. This is the kind of dog I've feared would attack me. A jolt of adrenalin shot right through my body. I jumped off the bike so fast I nearly lost control of the handlebars. Thankfully, as soon as I got off the bike the dog turned on his heels and scampered back the way he had come. Talk about relief.
The rest of the journey to Decatur passed without mishap. Just about the biggest event that occurred was coming across a bend in the road. It wasn't just one but two, together. Wild Times in Illinois!!
I got to Decatur in plenty of time for the match. In fact my idea of not changing my clock to central time had back fired on me half way up the road. I checked the time forgetting it was an hour ahead of local time & then calculated how long it would take me to finish the rest of the journey. To be honest I'd thought I was going to miss the match, maybe catch some of the 2nd half if I was lucky. I was delighted then to find out at the motel that I was 45 mins early for kick off. A quick shower, some food & I was sorted! Go on Fernando Torres!! (and Mike Griffin was off to pick up his winnings. mmmm... and he says he doesn't follow football)
Decatur was only 50-60 miles from a tenuously distant relation of ours in a town called Carlinsville. Mum gave me his number so I gave him a call but only left a message. Now I wasn't sure what to do tomorrow, whether to head 60 miles to Jacksonville via Springfield (my third), or to try Richard again in the morning.
In the evening I got an overpriced pizza which was garbage & left my stomach rumbling all night.
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