Thursday, May 29, 2008
Depending on your beliefs there are times when you have to wonder if things that happen are a message from Universe, or just things that happen. However, the message that seems to be coming through does not completely agree with what your intuition seems to be saying so it can make things somewhat confusing. Is there such a thing as a Universal consciousness that send out messages to everyone in the Universe? Some may call this consciousness God, whether it is male or female depends on a series of life events that have led to a specific belief.
Yesterday it was raining so after leaving the hotel it was time to check in to the YHA again. “Welcome back.” The clerk says. Now isn’t that nice? So after checking in what to do? It is time for Tea and Scones with Clotted Cream and Jam good stuff. Then study some maps, maybe go to the movie again, no not interested is seeing Sex in the City. Picking up a paperback I head back to the Y to have a little dinner and read.
In the common room I meet Bernice and Bill who are from the Yukon in Canada. They are also Community College professors she teaches history didn’t get what Bill taught. We talk about the Yukon, politics, Flagstaff, Canada and the U.S. Soon they are off to bed leaving me to my book for a while them I’m off to bed. The room is empty prior to falling asleep. Full when the stiffing heat of four bodies awakens me. After opening the window sleep comes back for me.
After breakfast I head to the hotel to use up the last of my purchased Internet minuets. Then it is time to ride north the first stop being Amesbury where I had originally purchased my bike. Half way there, switching gears going up a hill the de-railer, de-rails jamming into the spokes, bent out of shape the chain ceases to turn. “Well as least $150 worth of damage.” I think. I twist and pull finally getting it back into useable shape. That is the chain now turns so I can ride the bike, but the only gears that can be changes are the three front ones.
I decide that I’ll ride the bike to the shop where I purchased it and give it back to them, take the bus back to Salisbury, call Delta and go home. Enough is enough with the flats and now mechanical problems. Arriving at the bike shop the owner comes out ‘I remember this bike.” He states. “Lets see the damage.” He gives me a long explanation of why the event happened, and then tells me it’s about 25 pounds to fix. “Only 25 pounds?” He answers affirmatively and adds, “We are really busy, but we’ll fit you in and get you off unload the bike and bring it in.”
Twenty minuets later I’m reloading the bike and a gentleman with a three wheeled bike pulls up. After some conversation he gives me directions to the bike route to stay off the busy roads. It is a beautiful ride with lots of wonderful hills to ride up and coast down. All these wonderfully steep hills to ride up and coast down for the next four hours. I’m reminded of what the fellow from the Ferry told me. “After awhile you won’t ever notice the hills when you get in shape.” So I’m waiting not to notice the hills, maybe tomorrow.
The sign points around the corner for the information center in Pewsey. Stopping to ask to ask local residents where the center is I’m embroiled in conversation with the lady while the man get the yellow pages to look for campgrounds. She identifies her self as a neighbor and as we talk he goes down the road to talk to someone else. He comes back “Your in luck. There’s a Pub in Wolcott that lets you pitch no more the 10 minutes from here.” I’m invited in for coffee as he calls the pubs, telling them of my plight.
Martin is a former office with the RAF who has just moved here from Scotland. He owns a home in Ft. Meyers Florida in addition to this one. He gives me directions to the Pub as we finish our coffee. “Best get going it looks like rain is coming fast.” I’m off to the Pub, up hill, that takes me about 25 minuets to get there after making one wrong turn. It is raining and the pub owner, Peter, is waiting at the door. We talk while waiting for the rain to let up. After putting up the tent I have a wonderful dinner, even with a bunch of screening kids in the next room. I’ve ridden about 30 miles to day that makes a grand total of 310 miles ridden so far. It is a good day if I let it be.
Depending on your beliefs there are times when you have to wonder if things that happen are a message from Universe, or just things that happen. However, the message that seems to be coming through does not completely agree with what your intuition seems to be saying so it can make things somewhat confusing. Is there such a thing as a Universal consciousness that send out messages to everyone in the Universe? Some may call this consciousness God, whether it is male or female depends on a series of life events that have led to a specific belief.
Yesterday it was raining so after leaving the hotel it was time to check in to the YHA again. “Welcome back.” The clerk says. Now isn’t that nice? So after checking in what to do? It is time for Tea and Scones with Clotted Cream and Jam good stuff. Then study some maps, maybe go to the movie again, no not interested is seeing Sex in the City. Picking up a paperback I head back to the Y to have a little dinner and read.
In the common room I meet Bernice and Bill who are from the Yukon in Canada. They are also Community College professors she teaches history didn’t get what Bill taught. We talk about the Yukon, politics, Flagstaff, Canada and the U.S. Soon they are off to bed leaving me to my book for a while them I’m off to bed. The room is empty prior to falling asleep. Full when the stiffing heat of four bodies awakens me. After opening the window sleep comes back for me.
After breakfast I head to the hotel to use up the last of my purchased Internet minuets. Then it is time to ride north the first stop being Amesbury where I had originally purchased my bike. Half way there, switching gears going up a hill the de-railer, de-rails jamming into the spokes, bent out of shape the chain ceases to turn. “Well as least $150 worth of damage.” I think. I twist and pull finally getting it back into useable shape. That is the chain now turns so I can ride the bike, but the only gears that can be changes are the three front ones.
I decide that I’ll ride the bike to the shop where I purchased it and give it back to them, take the bus back to Salisbury, call Delta and go home. Enough is enough with the flats and now mechanical problems. Arriving at the bike shop the owner comes out ‘I remember this bike.” He states. “Lets see the damage.” He gives me a long explanation of why the event happened, and then tells me it’s about 25 pounds to fix. “Only 25 pounds?” He answers affirmatively and adds, “We are really busy, but we’ll fit you in and get you off unload the bike and bring it in.”
Twenty minuets later I’m reloading the bike and a gentleman with a three wheeled bike pulls up. After some conversation he gives me directions to the bike route to stay off the busy roads. It is a beautiful ride with lots of wonderful hills to ride up and coast down. All these wonderfully steep hills to ride up and coast down for the next four hours. I’m reminded of what the fellow from the Ferry told me. “After awhile you won’t ever notice the hills when you get in shape.” So I’m waiting not to notice the hills, maybe tomorrow.
The sign points around the corner for the information center in Pewsey. Stopping to ask to ask local residents where the center is I’m embroiled in conversation with the lady while the man get the yellow pages to look for campgrounds. She identifies her self as a neighbor and as we talk he goes down the road to talk to someone else. He comes back “Your in luck. There’s a Pub in Wolcott that lets you pitch no more the 10 minutes from here.” I’m invited in for coffee as he calls the pubs, telling them of my plight.
Martin is a former office with the RAF who has just moved here from Scotland. He owns a home in Ft. Meyers Florida in addition to this one. He gives me directions to the Pub as we finish our coffee. “Best get going it looks like rain is coming fast.” I’m off to the Pub, up hill, that takes me about 25 minuets to get there after making one wrong turn. It is raining and the pub owner, Peter, is waiting at the door. We talk while waiting for the rain to let up. After putting up the tent I have a wonderful dinner, even with a bunch of screening kids in the next room. I’ve ridden about 30 miles to day that makes a grand total of 310 miles ridden so far. It is a good day if I let it be.
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