i was on a cross country trip. following the Adventure Cycling Southern Tier route through Louisiana. it crossed the Atchafalaya swamp along a five or six mile bridge (one in each direction) that must have been built in the 40's.

it was early morning rush hour. there was zero berm. the road was narrow. drainage grates made me ride three feet from the concrete rail. i made many people, very, very, very angry.

On 9/11, a friend offered me a ride home from work in his pickup. I accepted. We walked out to his truck. I took off my backpack so I could get in the cab and put it on the ground. Then I hoisted my bike into the bed of the truck. We got in and left.

Nine miles later, as we were approaching my house, I looked down at my feet in preparation to grab my backpack to get out. Ooops. So, after getting home, I had to pedal back to work. Happily, the industrial park was pretty much deserted, and my backpack was right where I left it.

Meanwhile, my cousin, who worked in the twin towers and was the reason I was so distracted, was having a much worse day. Happily, he survived.