Sunday, June 26, 2005
High Springs and back-and-forth
When we awoke on Saturday, June 11th, it was indeed raining but there appeared to be no hurricane raging outside. There were, however, rambunctious boys running the halls of the Holiday Inn because their baseball tournament had been rained out. So, by 8 a.m., the boys were super-charged with sugar energy from the free cereal and cinnamon rolls at the Holiday Inn breakfast. This made for some tension on Eric's and my part because we were kind of tense as it was about how his riding was going to go that day.
Eric decided that we should drive to the next stop, High Springs, which was where his ride was to end that day. The reason for this was that if he had cycled in that direction not only would he have to deal with the rain pounding on him but he would have a 25-mile-per-hour headwind. So, riding with that caliber of wind in one's face would make for a very slow ride in what already were bad conditions. I was for taking that day off entirely, but we plodded ahead and arrived in High Springs at around 11 a.m. We swung by the hotel at which we'd be staying that night and I wouldn't be able to check in there for an hour. So we drove through the little downtown of High Springs and at this time it was actually pretty sunny outside and not really raining, so Eric made the most of it, hopped on his bike, and cycled off. I would pick him up back in Madison in about five hours; it was 85 miles away. So, needless-to-say, Eric had a big day of riding before him and I wasn't going to be meeting him halfway for lunch.
As you might have guessed, the prospect of driving back and forth to Madison again was not exactly pleasing to me, so I did what any girl in her right mind would do under such conditions -- I sought out the nearest reputable-looking salon and marched my butt in there and asked if they had time for a manicure, pedicure, and haircut for me. I was told that in fact they would, in an hour. So I did another thing that any self-respecting girl with a bad attitude would do, I went to the nearest coffee shop and got myself a tall one (and some cookies for Eric, because I really wasn't that ticked). I sipped my coffee in the cute little cafe and then walked around High Springs, talking to my mom on my cell phone, until my beautification time arrived.
The salon, The Hair and Nail Depot, was full of people who knew each other. It seemed like it would be a good subject for a sit-com. I got my hair cut my a young gal, blond, whose boyfriend and her were doing some home repairs and he called while she was trimming my bangs and they were making some decisions together about a purchase. She did a nice job on my hair and I was done in a flash. Then I hopped over to the manicurist's booth and she was lucky that she had her pedicure stuff with her because she'd taken it home not long ago to give her husband a pedicure, which never actually happened, and she wasn't sure if she still had her pedicure tools in the truck or whether they were in her house. She did, happily, have them with her. So, I had a nice long chat with her about her life in High Springs, her early years of traveling around, her time as a young (and I mean YOUNG) bride, the divorce that followed that, and her current marriage. She told me all about her daughter, her oldest one, who was a lot like her and who she didn't expect to stick around in High Springs for too long. But she was a very good kid, and from what she said, I believed it. She gave me her card when we were done and said that if I ever came back through and I wanted my nails done, to call her and if they said she was booked, she'd make room for me.
I went to the public library after my salon hour and cracked open my computer for a while before hitting the interstate (and thankfully there was an interstate I could use) back towards Madison. I arrived without much ado and found Eric on the porch of the B&B that the night before had had no room for us. He got in the driver's seat and off we went, back to High Springs. That night we crossed the main drag from our hotel to a chrome-exteriored diner, Floyd's, and we had quite a fine time there. Next to us at a table was a man named Jim, who commented on the proportions of the meal Eric ordered, and he said he was getting fat just watching Eric, ha ha. This man grew watermelon in Florida and Texas and had property all over and while he was hard to understand, because it was loud and he had a drawl of some kind, he was kind and loquacious as can be. His produce empire seemed to be treating him just fine.
Me outside of Floyd's Diner in High Springs, FL
The next night would be our last of the cycling part of our trip and we would reach Palatka, Florida.
Eric decided that we should drive to the next stop, High Springs, which was where his ride was to end that day. The reason for this was that if he had cycled in that direction not only would he have to deal with the rain pounding on him but he would have a 25-mile-per-hour headwind. So, riding with that caliber of wind in one's face would make for a very slow ride in what already were bad conditions. I was for taking that day off entirely, but we plodded ahead and arrived in High Springs at around 11 a.m. We swung by the hotel at which we'd be staying that night and I wouldn't be able to check in there for an hour. So we drove through the little downtown of High Springs and at this time it was actually pretty sunny outside and not really raining, so Eric made the most of it, hopped on his bike, and cycled off. I would pick him up back in Madison in about five hours; it was 85 miles away. So, needless-to-say, Eric had a big day of riding before him and I wasn't going to be meeting him halfway for lunch.
As you might have guessed, the prospect of driving back and forth to Madison again was not exactly pleasing to me, so I did what any girl in her right mind would do under such conditions -- I sought out the nearest reputable-looking salon and marched my butt in there and asked if they had time for a manicure, pedicure, and haircut for me. I was told that in fact they would, in an hour. So I did another thing that any self-respecting girl with a bad attitude would do, I went to the nearest coffee shop and got myself a tall one (and some cookies for Eric, because I really wasn't that ticked). I sipped my coffee in the cute little cafe and then walked around High Springs, talking to my mom on my cell phone, until my beautification time arrived.
The salon, The Hair and Nail Depot, was full of people who knew each other. It seemed like it would be a good subject for a sit-com. I got my hair cut my a young gal, blond, whose boyfriend and her were doing some home repairs and he called while she was trimming my bangs and they were making some decisions together about a purchase. She did a nice job on my hair and I was done in a flash. Then I hopped over to the manicurist's booth and she was lucky that she had her pedicure stuff with her because she'd taken it home not long ago to give her husband a pedicure, which never actually happened, and she wasn't sure if she still had her pedicure tools in the truck or whether they were in her house. She did, happily, have them with her. So, I had a nice long chat with her about her life in High Springs, her early years of traveling around, her time as a young (and I mean YOUNG) bride, the divorce that followed that, and her current marriage. She told me all about her daughter, her oldest one, who was a lot like her and who she didn't expect to stick around in High Springs for too long. But she was a very good kid, and from what she said, I believed it. She gave me her card when we were done and said that if I ever came back through and I wanted my nails done, to call her and if they said she was booked, she'd make room for me.
I went to the public library after my salon hour and cracked open my computer for a while before hitting the interstate (and thankfully there was an interstate I could use) back towards Madison. I arrived without much ado and found Eric on the porch of the B&B that the night before had had no room for us. He got in the driver's seat and off we went, back to High Springs. That night we crossed the main drag from our hotel to a chrome-exteriored diner, Floyd's, and we had quite a fine time there. Next to us at a table was a man named Jim, who commented on the proportions of the meal Eric ordered, and he said he was getting fat just watching Eric, ha ha. This man grew watermelon in Florida and Texas and had property all over and while he was hard to understand, because it was loud and he had a drawl of some kind, he was kind and loquacious as can be. His produce empire seemed to be treating him just fine.
Me outside of Floyd's Diner in High Springs, FL
The next night would be our last of the cycling part of our trip and we would reach Palatka, Florida.
# posted by jnewwave @ 8:11 AM 
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