All week long, as I pedaled across Louisiana, the weather forecast was the same, “Thunder storms, some possibly severe.” This was typical April weather. I looked up at the dark sky and kept pedaling.
I found a nice camping spot near New Roads, Louisiana. Conditions were dark and heavy. The air seemed to cling to me as I set up my tent and followed my usual evening routine. As I fell asleep, I could hear the sound of thunder in the distance.
Suddenly, I awoke with a start. A tremendous rumbling sound punctuated with deafening cracks of lightening suggested that things had taken a definite turn for the worse. This was disturbing. Most disturbing of all was a vicious whine which accompanied the sound of cracking trees. Suddenly there was darkness. A velvety quiet. No light, no sound. I was dreaming that it was important not to move.
I was now awake and my head was hurting. I realized that I was soaking wet and that I could not roll over. It was pitch black, I couldn’t see a thing. I struggled to reach with my hands and try to make sense of things. The air smelled strongly of green leaves and split wood. Reaching up, I felt branches pressing down on me. Reaching to one side, I could feel a massive tree trunk, as heavy as a concrete beam. It was raining.
I began to understand what had happened. A tree had fallen next to my tent and a large branch had struck the back of my head. I had been knocked unconscious, but for how long I didn’t know. I was getting rained on because my tent was torn and flattened against me. The branches directly above me were holding me down under the tent. After a struggle, I rolled onto my back and started thinking about my situation. I moved my arms and legs and everything felt like it was still working. That was a relief. My head was hurting, but I felt only a small lump behind my left ear.
It didn’t seem like a good idea to try and extricate myself from my tent prison. I would have to spend the rest of the night standing outside in the rain. I decided to stay put until sunrise. At least my sleeping bag, wet as it was, offered some warmth and protection from the elements. When dawn finally arrived, I managed, with great difficulty, to exit my tent. I was confronted with a scene of incredible destruction. All the trees were bare. Their leaves removed by what must have been a powerful tornado. The tops of even large oak trees were twisted and splintered. The ground was covered with a foot deep layer of leaves and branches.
I looked at my precious bicycle. Bad news. The top tube and seat tube were both completely severed as if by a giant pair of shears. The handle bar stem had been driven down into the head tube as if by a sledge hammer. Despite all this, the bicycle was still leaning against my bicycle trailer, just as I had left it! All the broken pieces simply collapsed straight down! The wheels were not damaged!
With the morning sun came a blue sky. I started picking up my gear. I rinsed the mud off and arranged things in the sunshine to dry. I removed all the undamaged bicycle components from my broken bicycle frame and bent the bicycle trailer back into a usable condition.
I started thinking about how to proceed. If I could get a ride into the town of New Roads, I could possibly purchase an inexpensive bicycle to continue my journey. I doubted if New Roads had a bicycle shop, but I knew that New Roads had a Walmart. I could mail the disassembled bicycle components from my old bicycle to my daughter’s address in Austin. During the winter months, I would have plenty of time to purchase a vintage bicycle frame on eBay and install my components.
Looking at my camping spot next to the downed tree, I realized that I had escaped death by mere inches. I also noticed that the tree limbs covering my tent were like a giant hand which pressed down and protected me from being swept up into the tornado.
Was this “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing,” as Shakespeare put it, or was this a fully intentional act by a higher power to spare my life so I could finish writing this book? I didn’t have any answers, but I knew I was a changed man because I certainly wasn’t in the habit of asking these kinds of questions!
If I had been killed, I would never have had any conscious awareness of the event. I suppose I had always expected to know when death was approaching. That was certainly not the case in this situation. Being knocked unconscious was probably a lot like dying. The light switch is simply turned off and then you are gone. For some reason, I found this scenario to be especially chilling, even though such an ending would be pain free.
I researched “concussion” on the internet. My symptoms were mild. Apparently, based on what I read online, depression is a frequent symptom of concussion. Well, I certainly felt depressed, especially regarding the loss of my precious bicycle. Nevertheless, I was good to go. With my new Walmart bicycle in hand ($169), I decided to continue my journey.
I would have a new story to tell. What is it like to circumnavigate the United States on a $169 bicycle? The SEAT on my old bicycle cost more than this
entire new bicycle cost! This was going to be interesting!
A few days later, riding along the Natchez Trace Parkway, I see numerous stretches of forest with recent, severe tornado damage. A ranger explained to me that the damaged trees are not harvested because the wood fibers are twisted and splintered throughout the trunks of the damaged trees, making the wood unfit for anything except firewood. The ranger also mentioned that a few years earlier a father and daughter had an experience similar to mine when a tree fell on their tent during a storm. The father was killed but the daughter survived.
Someone’s got it in for me.
Whoever it is, I wish they’d cut it out quick.
When they will I can only guess.
Idiot Wind
Blowing through the dust upon our shelves.
Idiot Wind
Blowing down the back roads heading south.
I woke up upon the roadside,
Dreaming about the way things sometimes are.
Now everything’s a little upside down.
Bob Dylan
“Idiot Wind”