Ridgeland, Mississippi

6 AM: Alarm sounds.. Bib's on. Jersey on. Jeans on. Sweatshirt on. This is the fastest I've moved at this time in a while. Mainly it's in attempts to find food to eat before prepping four bikes and meeting a shop owner. I have forty minutes. Off to a good start.

7 AM: A Subaru with a Rocky Mounts roof rack passed me on the freeway. The driver was waving his ass off with a big ole grin- a wave that transitioned from out of a window to in front of his rear view mirror while trying to make eye contact. I don't get a good enough look to determine if it is the shop owner or photographer I'm supposed to be meeting with, but I wave politely and smile. I end up following his route for a while until I need to take a left into the shop parking lot. We end up side by side at a red light. He stares straight ahead. The woman in the seat next to him is laughing. OK.

9:15ish: Two woman are standing at the side of the bike path. Judging from the lack of hills in either direction, I'm guessing it's not because they're tired. I excuse myself from the woman I'm teaching proper shifting to, stand up out of the saddle and pedal as fast as I will all day (20 mph, weaaak) to meet up with them. Mechanical. Given I've been the mechanic, I'm immediately apologetic as I start looking over the bike. A stick cracks behind me. The small talk amongst the group stops and all heads snap to look over my shoulder. "Nature tour, eh? What is it?" I'm glad for any sort of distraction from their stare. "Probably just a crocodile." I leap forward scrambling with the sudden interaction of my road cleats struggling to find traction on the pavement. They all laugh. A tail flicks. Waves in the swamp lead out towards the dense woods.

11 AM: My phone vibrates. I'm standing on the edge of the bike path, kicking leaves, staring into the grass. Three days on tour and zero strip clubs, what a waste. It ignites a short but necessary laugh. I've lost my car key. I've now searched a four mile span two times. Four miles of 25. The path is an out and back rail to trail and each section of it looks exactly the same to me. There are no defining trees, houses or turns. It is all exactly the same brownish swamp on both sides. So, no despite being asked seven different times, I don't remember where I stopped to adjust a derailleur. I've begun prepping myself for being stranded in Mandeville until after the weekend while the two gentlemen kind enough to join my search party remain dedicated to finding the needle in the haystack, a single key. And yes, if you must know, that is my only key. Because last week I got locked out of my van for the first time ever and removed my spare from it's safe keeping. I then promptly left it in my hotel room, checked out and left the state. Awesome.

1 PM: I can't taste this panini. The crust is tearing apart the roof of my mouth like Capt'n Crunch. All I can think about is that damn cereal.

4:15 PM: Gas station bathroom. Between my greasy hair from this morning's ride, my fading mascara and bright pink cheeks on top of my pale skin, I look like a failed attempt harajuku girl. I feel disgusting. With my tongue running over the tiny cuts from Cap'n panini this afternoon, my face keeps settling into an expression similar to eating room temperature soft French cheese. A motion sensing air freshener triggers on the wall and shoots directly into my mouth. I feel so hot right now.

5:45 PM: Muppet's Schindler's List. Miss Piggy's choice. Schindler's List: In space. I'm listening to the Ricky Gervais podcast on "The Arts."

6:00 PM: Just passed a bill board of a woman crying on one side of a couch, and on the other a man sitting with his head in his hands. Across the top it says DIVORCE? Across the bottom it says $550. That's it. There's no other billboard for miles. Is this some new marketing technique? Or is there a slit in the pole holding up the sign, like those "Go ahead, we trust you" parking lots?

7:18 PM: Hotel room phone rings. It goes up an hour. Tonight. Keisha, the attendant at the front desk is my favorite person in Mississippi.