In the midst of my midnight gorging last night, I failed to re-pack my little baggie of trail mix, a.k.a. GORP, in my critter-proof food bag. Le sigh: some bold little squirrels got into it all overnight, and I had to toss it in the morning (right? I mean, they’re rodents… though I was beyond tempted to hang on to the chocolate-welded mix despite their nibblings).
Anyway, trail mix-less, I moseyed around Ruby Beach for ages this afternoon before checking into my hostel for the evening (Google Ruby Beach; other folks have taken way more stunning photos than I could have done). While waiting in line for the restroom at some point, a woman behind me asked the family in front of me where they were from. “Seattle,” one replied.
“Oh. I’m Suquamish. From here,” she volunteered.
“Did you take the ‘Twilight’ tour?” she continued.
“It’s, um… from those vampire movies?”
She turned to me. “Are you biking?”
“Yes,” I smiled. “Down the coast, I’m hoping.”
“Oh, wow!…” she started, but then a stall opened up, and she took it.
A few hours later, we crossed paths as I returned to my bike for more water.
“You’re still here!” she marveled. “Here,” she offered, holding out a bag of trail mix.
“No, no,” I knee-jerk-reacted. “I’m…”
“Take it,” she insisted. “We just got done surfing, and we don’t need it.” Then she clapped her hands on the shoulders of the boy next to her, chubby in his swimsuit and still dripping from the water. “You know, his grandparents, they biked from here to Saint Louis, Missouri.”
“Wow!” I exclaimed.
“When they were 70 years old!” she added.
“I… uhh…” [Incredulous, embarrassed I was feeling uncomfortable after 30 miles earlier.]
“Yeah!” she supplied, to my stupor.
I gathered myself and replied, “Well, I guess I’d better make it to Oakland, then, huh?”
She smiled and ushered her son toward their car.
And thus was my trail mix magically replaced.