I’ll know where I’m going when I get there
…And I’ll know what I’m doing when I’m done
Todd Snider at Main Street Crossing, a lovely little venue in Tomball, Texas: I had a beautiful time with a dear friend. I’d never seen Todd live before and I enjoyed his storytelling and performance.
I got up the next morning, walked Hops down to White Oak Bayou, and put a pinch of Ritchey’s ashes in. That makes his fourth waterway so far, because we visited Canyon Lake, the Guadalupe River, and the Blanco River before we left our central Texas home. I’ll be scattering him in all the waters we find on our trip that he would have loved to swim.
And then I met an old friend for coffee, and he told me that a small thing I’d done years ago had large and positive effects in his life; he helped me top up my oil and check a few other fluids, and I popped back into the coffee shop to use the bathroom before hitting the road for Big Bend. And when I came out? A big truck had just hit Foxy and was in the act of fleeing the scene.
So, for my first exercise in patience and flexibility, just days into the adventure, Hops and I are stuck just hanging around in Houston while waiting for Foxy to get fixed up – most importantly, to get a new little window installed so we can sleep warm at night (and keep the rain out). The good news is that this is my hometown and it’s the place where I have the most people willing to put me up, and it’s giving me a chance to see a few more friends before I’m gone. The bad news, of course, is that I was anxious to get out to the desert; I’m impatient with the delay, and frustrated that Foxy was hurt (and that the bad guy ran – accidents happen, but the running was bad).
On the whole I am remaining philosophical and hope to be rollin’ again soon.