[at-l] a sobo remembers...2 men and their bicycles

["southwalker99" <southwalker99@alltel.net>]

a sobo remembers...

2 Men and Their Bicycles
West Hartford, VT was a surprised. Although I had noticed the name in the Data Book, I expected to cross the road near it, not actually walk through it. An even bigger surprise was the store with a prominent sign that said "MILK SHAKES". I remember distinctly looking twice at the sign and then checking my watch. It said 10:15. What the heck, a little early for lunch but I can handle this, I decided. Entering the store, I ordered a shake, pondered the grill for about 15 seconds and added a cheeseburger and some fries to the order.  When the food was ready I sat at the counter and ate, visiting with the lady and a couple of locals. Afterwards I bought some snacks, ordered another shake and made my way to the front porch, taking a seat at a table. While reveling in what was my first time to stop in the middle of the day on the trail and order food, a man walked up pushing a bicycle. He went inside, made his purchases, returned to the porch and speaking to me for the first time took a seat. It was a beautiful day and we talked, watched a few cars go by, solved a few world-problems and generally enjoyed the nice day together.


About 1:00 I decided it was time to go and made my pack ready. He decided to leave also and by the time I had my water stored and my pack on he was gone. As I walked down the road I saw him again, walking the bicycle with his purchases in a basket on the front. I caught him as he leaned the bike against the front steps of a house and asked, "Do you ever ride that thing?" "No", he said, "I did sometime back, now I just push it." 

I thought about that for a second or two and said, "Well I guess it beats carrying everything in your hands." 

"Yes it does. And it is a lot better than that wheel barrow I used to push". 

----- 

Months later I am in TN, standing in front of a K Mart waiting for a ride to take me back to the trail. A man pushing a bicycle walks up. The bike looks to be brand new and has a basket. 

"Are you on the trail," he asked. 

"Yes I am" 

"I hike the trail" 

"Really, have you hiked much of it?" 

"Oh, no. Just a small piece. I live in the woods and don't have a regular home. See, I have a little tent I sleep in and a little camp site a piece off the trail and I just walk to town on the trail. I like the trail. Wish I could do it all." 

"Why not try" 

"Maybe I will some day" 

With that he sat down next to me. For quite a while we talked about the trail, my hike and I told him of all the nice things people had done for me while I was on the trail. Finally he talked about his life. I found out that the new bike was a gift from the employees of a local McDonalds. He eats breakfast there a lot and has "some duties" he performs. The employees had also given him his town name; Bike Man. I learned that although Bike Man had almost nothing, he also wanted nothing. He was articulate though uneducated perhaps. He seemed to me to be a genuinely kind soul and nice guy who was interested in people, totally lacking in bitterness or resentment of the circumstances that made him homeless. I enjoyed our conversation. 

Finally my ride came and we parted. As I was getting my pack up I thought about giving him some money. But I hesitated and he walked into the store. I loaded my pack, took a seat in the car and as we headed down the road I regretted not having offered him something. It was bitterly cold the next week and I thought about the Bike Man in his tent, with no warm home to go to. The guilt laid heavy on me. For month's people had been doing special things for me, I had truly been blessed. And when the opportunity came for me to do something for someone else I failed miserably. It was months before I forgave myself for that failure.


southwalker99@alltel.net
ME-GA '99
In hiking there is no special recognition given for speed, style or 
finesse. There are only those that do the hike and those that don't.



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