Mountain T.O.P.

Most people wouldn't decide to move across the country on a bicycle. Most people wouldn't decide to move across the country on a bicycle a mere three days after they're going to be on a mission trip for a week, leaving them only two days to figure out all of the crucial details surrounding a trip across the country on a bicycle. I have never been accused of being most people.*

*I've also never been accused of murder or arson or most felonies. I was accused of stealing a mouse ball when I was a junior in high school. I was told I would have to serve detention, but refused to go since I had not stolen the mouse ball. It went back and forth, me and the assistant principal and the people in the Attendance Office - them giving me more detention for not going to detention, me not going to those detentions. One day, in the middle of the whole ordeal, I was named a National Merit Semi-Finalist and that was all the ammo I needed to just tell the guy to shove it.

I'm ready for the New Mexico trip, and am prepared to live for two months on only what will fit on a bicycle. So, when I packed for this eight-day mission trip, I packed light. I figure I will only need 13% of what I will need in August. This makes packing easier.

I packed deodorant, a toothbrush, some old clothes, a bar of soap, and a wretchedly uncomfortable (but miraculously light!) sleeping bag. On the list of things I didn't pack: a razor, shaving cream, hair product, shampoo, SPF, face wash, etc... This can only mean one thing. Look for to the patented "Aaron Helman Resembles a Boy Band Member but Only if that Boy Band Member Was some Sort of Hobo"* look to begin before the bike trip is even nearly planned.

*All Rights Reserved. (c) 2008.

See you in a week.

Reason #44 I'm Glad I'm a Dude

I think I would be more worried about hitchhiking if I was a girl.

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Last night, I blew a tire in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I was left with no recourse but to walk my flattened bike the remaining seven miles. That is what I began to do. I flagged down passing motorists to no avail. They all had excuses. Most of these were legitimate.

As darkness set, I flipped on the lights and continued my trek, albeit slowly. Then, something happened. I hitched a ride.

At 9:40; I flagged down a driver, loaded up my bicycle, and got into a Yukon that was absolutely filled with probably illegal immigrants. The driver was the only one that spoke English. I sat on a guy. I'd ridden a bike 65 miles in the heat - and I smelled like it - and I sat on a guy. This was apparently not a bother to him.

Danville was not on their way to Westfield, by any means. But, in fairness, they were lost when they found me; so where they were going was not on their way to Westfield.

Seriously; thanks guys.

Reason #58 I'm Glad I'm a Dude

Shaving your legs is a hassle. I learned this last night.

My father is mortified right now.