Merryville, LA (Pop. 967)

I woke early this morning and lay in bed napping until I finally rolled out of bed and got the water heating for our morning coffee. After a light breakfast, I put on my cycling clothes and started preparing my equipment for the ride. I took my bike out and aired up the tires. Suddenly, I felt a bite on my big toe. I saw a bright red ant and suddenly remembered the fiery ants found in this part of the South. After several angry bites, I removed all the nasty attackers and continued with my preparations.

My trip for the day was, first of all, to DeRidder, about a 35-mile ride. The second destination would be Merryville, an additional 20 miles. I figured I could reach Merryville, but sometimes days just don’t turn out the way I have planned. The entire route to DeRidder was on LA 26 with a very wide shoulder. The ride was pleasant, with some traffic, but all at a good distance to my left. It was 71 degrees and 94 percent humidity when I left this morning.

I got to DeRidder in good time and decided to take a break at the local park. I had a sandwich, some beef jerky, and some tasty hydration. After about a 10-minute rest on the bench, I headed out for Merryville. I continued mostly west for another 14 miles and then took a turn to the south. At this point, the wind was mostly in my face, but it was only about 10 mph, and I only had 6 miles left to finish the day.

I found Dana at the local park waiting for me. She told me the police station was just around the corner, so I headed over to see if we could "overnight" at the park. The station was locked but had a number to call for help. I called and explained that we were wondering if we could park next to the pavilion. The officer said there was a location nearby designed for cyclists passing through. She told me to hang on, and she would meet me and show me where it was. Soon, she—AKA the Police Chief—showed up, and I followed her to the small cabin that the historical society had prepared for traveling cyclists. She called the person in charge, and soon they arrived to prep the space for us.

We explained that we mostly just needed a place to park, but restrooms would be awesome. She got them ready for us, and we now have hot showers and toilets available. This was certainly more than we expected, but we are deeply grateful for their kindness.

The only disappointment for today was that the only restaurant—a "hamburger and more" joint—closed at 2:00, so we will eat instant mashed potatoes and a few other easily made foods. That is definitely a step down from good burgers, but I am reminded that 30% of the world suffers from food insecurity and would be grateful for our evening meal of instant mashed potatoes. We are trying to be grateful for what we have instead of ungrateful about what we do not. We are truly blessed.

Today, I crossed the 1,000-mile mark. This officially puts me in the second trimester of this journey. In 2013, I walked the Camino de Santiago, a 500-mile journey from western France to Santiago, Spain. On that walk, I met a man from Scotland who became a really good "Camino" friend. During one of our walks together, he mentioned that long adventures of this type are divided into thirds.

The first third teaches you about your body—how much it hurts, how in time the walking (or cycling) gets easier, how to care for the aches and pains, etc. The second third teaches you about your spirit, testing your mental, moral, and emotional qualities. The third and last part teaches you about your soul—your identity, values, and reflections on your past and future. While all people are different, I think looking at it this way is helpful in finding value in this adventure.

Another, much simpler way I’ve seen it described is this: The first third is experiencing the excitement and reality of the journey. The first few days are super exciting, and everything is brand new—like experiencing a new food and then eating it every day. After a while, the taste is normalized and then becomes boring and routine. That’s the beginning of the second portion of the journey. It becomes methodical, mundane, hard, and boring. It also seems as if this must be the stupidest thing you have ever done, and the journey will never end. Perseverance is the key for the second trimester.
The final trimester is filled with the building anticipation of the journey's culmination. The goal is in sight and getting closer. The days fly by, and your legs get their second, third, and fourth wind. Before you know it, the journey has been completed. Notice, I did not say that the destination has been reached. That was by design.

I’ve said all this simply to describe the phase we are entering. We are in the middle, boring part of the journey, and it would be easy to call it quits. The discipline at this point is to find the beauty in our journey instead of focusing too much on the journey itself. In the morning, I remind myself that my only goal is to finish the day. When I pull into our destination, I remind myself that I was not trying to get to San Diego—I was trying to get to Merryville. That is when I try to pat myself on the back, but my arms hurt too much to reach that far, so I just imagine it instead.

In 3-4 days, we should be north of Houston and pressing westward through the insanely large state of Texas.

We received much kindness today, and we are grateful.Okumaya devam et