Sensing eyes on me, I awaken suddenly. Look around the dark tent to find Baylor sitting up staring at me like a child who’s had a bad dream. Without making a sound I readjust the sleeping bag, scoot to the very edge of the sleep pad, and invite him in for morning snuggles. He immediately lies down, pushes up against me to gain a few more inches on the sleep pad, and promptly begins snoring. Grabbing a jacket I wrap it around my shoulders to make up for lost sleeping bag real estate. Allow myself to be lulled to sleep by Baylor’s rhythmic breathing and contented warmth.
Sun shining high, we pull into the library parking lot, park right out front. I toss Baylor a cookie. I’ll be right back. I just need to run inside and check if this will work for us. He smacks happily, lies down disinterested.
Seeing an open table, I check for an outlet, note the shady spot directly outside the window. Nod happily and turn to head back outside.
Approaching the bike, I smile at the man and woman standing near by.
Is this yours?
Yes. And this is Baylor, I say pointing.
They smile. Can I take a picture? she asks.
Of course.
Picture taken she wishes us well, heads to her car.
The man stands with his head in the trunk of his car, digging around in the back. Walking towards us he holds a bag in his hands. I got this the other day thinking it was beef jerky, but it turns out it’s dog jerky. So I’ve been looking for the right dog to pass it on to. I’ll give it to you on one condition.
Um, okay. What’s that?
You have to give him one while I’m here to witness it.
I laugh, I’m pretty sure Baylor has that same condition. It’s a deal.
Cash smiles. Hands me the bag. Laughs as Baylor gobbles the jerky as fast as possible.
I hand a slice to Cash, smile as he feeds Bay, pats his head, says his goodbye and heads into the library.
Baylor tucked into the shade, I head into the library. Wave at Cash as I settle at the scouted desk work station. Crack open my lap top and quickly become absorbed in the work.
Head phones on, I startle at the tap on my shoulder. Smile at the sight of Cash, I’m leaving now, but wanted to say goodbye. I stand up, shake his hand. Thanks so much, it was a pleasure meeting you.
Staring at the screen, I look up as Cash rushes back into the library, with a look of panic. I just went out to my car, and Baylor’s not in the sidecar anymore! He tells me on high alert.
Oh, I’m so sorry, Cash, look here, I say pointing out the window. He’s parked right here so I can keep an eye on him the whole time.
He let’s out a breath of a relief. Oh thank goodness. I was just so worried. Well, I’m off now. I won’t bother you anymore.
You’re not bothering me at all. It’s been a delight. Thank you for looking out for us. We smile, say goodbye.
Staring out the window, I watch the rhythmic rise and fall of Baylor’s snoozing chest.
Looking at the interview question on my screen I think about how common the concern that – especially as a female traveler – people everywhere are out to take advantage of us. Smile at the reality. Strangers who stop to say hello, pass on treats, share stories, become a part of the adventure and our lives to the extent that they worry about our well being, stop what they’re doing to lend a hand, send support and buoy us in every way imaginable.
Sure, we’re surrounded by strangers on most days. Yes, they often approach us, circle the sidecar. But it’s certainly not a bother. It’s an absolute delight.
256 days down. Many to come.
