"Are you lost?"

Stopped right here, I pull my camera out to show you all this road.  It is a new one for me, and part of a new 60+ mile loop northeast of the house.  As the camera comes to life, the slow moving pickup slows to a stop beside me.  I glance up, see the passenger window is down, and wait for the rancher to say something.  When I decide the silence is bordering on awkward, I say, “Good morning!”

He returns the greeting, and adds, “Are you lost?”

Cautiously, I wonder if he is sincerely concerned or a little suspicious.  After all, why would a goofy-dressed bicyclist be out here on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere?

I tell him I have a map, and think I am where I hope to be, but that some of these county roads are not signed.  He confirms that I am on the correct road, and asks another question that could be interpreted as either suspicion or genuine helpfulness.  So I tell him my plan to make a left turn, head west, and take a few other county roads back to North Shore Road.  He pauses and processes that information, and says, “You are nowhere near North Shore Road”.

I think he underestimates the comfortable range of a bicycle.

So I pull out my map, and recite the sequence of roads that leads back to North Shore Road.  Either his suspicions are satisfied, or his understanding of a bicycle’s range is expanded.  Then he asks, “Oh, so you live over there?”

“No, I live in Sanger.”

Another pause to process information.  I think his understanding of the bicycle’s range is significantly expanded.  Then he wishes me well, and drives on at about bicycle pace.  So I decide to go ahead take that photo of the road, and include the back of that pickup before it fades out of sight.