Grandma Leenie made french toast for my last breakfast with her. She also gave me a book, The Case for Christ. I had already read a bit of it (the conclusions) out of curiosity. It was a misty morning, and as I got on my bike and rode off Leenie disappeared behind me into the fog.

The strangest part of the morning was riding across the Susquehanna River at Columbia, still ensconced in fog. That bridge must be over a mile long. It just went on and on, with nothing to see but the colorless haze.

I pass a car dead in the road. A few minutes later I pass two kids walking down the road. They remind me of myself in high school. They are clearly stoned off their rockers. I ask what happened.

“The wheel just fuckin’ flew off!” His face recalls the surprise. “How fast were you going?” I ask. “Oh, like, 35. Or 40…” He’s unsure. “This fuckin’ sucks!” they exclaim in chorus, but they are all grins.

I knew I couldn’t help them – I had discovered my cell phone missing earlier. I must have left it at Aunt Hadie’s, I figure. I’ll have to call her.

The haze lifts as I pull into a closed picnic area for lunch. I eat fruit from Leenie’s, and Funny Cake from Hadie’s, remembering them. I flop onto the ground for a delicious nap.

It would be a good place to camp, but I decide to press on when I wake. I have to stop to replace a broken link in my chain, but the riding is pleasant. It feels good to be back in nature. I see an inviting wood, and creep into it to camp.