Arkansas, Mississippi and ... Nirvana?

Over the past couple days, Luna cycled through Arkansas and Mississippi. Now that I'm getting used to the pace, I find myself getting much more used to the brief moments of meditation I have as I wait for Luna to zip by on his bike.

What's interesting about this phenomenon is that I can see a direct relationship between a lack of NPR programming, an abundance of conservative talk radio, and a preference for me to turn off the radio altogether. The result: lots of quiet time. (And also a lot of alone time with mosquitoes, thus the ankle-protecting socks in the photos.)

Even though I initially had lots of time to think. My mind started straying into lots of time to "not think" and I gather that's where the meditation came into play.

The second-half of that sentence is oddly phrased is because I don't know I've meditated until my mind sort of returns to consciousness and realizes that I've been in a thoughtless state for an undefined period of time. I realize that I've had my eyes gazing into the rear-view mirror, but I haven't actually seen a thing. I wonder, "Did I miss Luna?" and somehow, moments later, a tiny black speck would appear in the rear-view mirror's horizon and begin approaching the car.

(Below is a video of the view in Arkansas...)


I think from that "nothingness" state, creativity is born. One of the things that happened, while recently "out" of an open-eyed meditation was how I calculated our proximity to Nashville, Tenn. Luna and I already completed nearly a hundred miles through AR and MS, and we were just five miles south of Memphis. Traffic was unpleasant and heavy (for a bike) and I calculated that we were less than eight days away from Atlanta. We could take a day and a half off! And we could visit our friend in Nashville.

We called her up, and she told us to join her. So, we strapped Luna's bike to the back of the car and muscled our way north to Nashville.

We're now off our originally planned trajectory, and I (a stickler for plans and itineraries) am surprisingly okay with this.

It feels great to be in a house, with a kitchen, and good home-cooking (prepared by a chef, of course). So, how are we heading into Atlanta? What does tomorrow look like? We haven't mapped it out yet. We may not map it out until we hit the road again tomorrow morning. Or we may not hit the road...

All I know is that things are luxuriously normal and comfortable today.

On Food... Traveling... Exploring... Even by bike!

Several of the folks who have kept up with our blogposts here on www.CrossCountryChef.blogspot.com have shown particular interest in the video posts and blog posts that deal with food. Some folks left a comment, others shared their comments on Facebook, and one other even went so far as to send us a text messaage (called "Tex mex" by my lovely one, Luna) that cried out: "Stay away from that sh*t food."

So, I thought it was time to address the issue of this creature comfort: food.

At the very moment that I write this, there was a PSA on the Arkansas channel that said, "Savor the flavors of Arkansas," and featured a beautiful, shiny close-up of... fried chicken.

I share this to illustrate some of the points that I would like to make:

1) We actually enjoy most the foods we brought along with us. Prior to leaving California, Luna set out by making a ton of pasta, a garbanzo bean salad, a little bit of tuna salad. He also roasted several bell peppers and made a pico de gallo with tomatoes. We have a bag of apples and clementines, raisins/etc. and we just polished off a container of mixed nuts. We lasted on this for almost a week--in some cases, almost two.

(The following video was taken two days ago at a rest-stop in Arkansas. For whatever reason, Luna was a little camera shy this time. I made a quick showing of the food.)


2) But I think the physicality of cycling an average of 100 miles a day gets a person hungry for grease. I can't speak for myself, because I fulfill the roles of "scout" and "sweep" vehicle--and the most physicality involved in that is waiting, waiting, waiting; but after about a week of consuming his own healthy meals, as well as Advocare's energy-enhancing vitamins and products, he started hanckering for "fat". (Of course, I had to oblige.)

3) When in Rome, politely smile and nibble when you're totally outnumbered. Seriously, though, I enjoy a half-rack of ribs. Actually, when it comes to meat, I like preparation to be kept simple. When in Texas, for instance, the only thing on the menu is beef, beef, beef, and chicken. So, we just asked them to keep it simple, putting all secret sauces "on the side". It's our secret way of saying, "we would love to taste your culinary genius, but we don't need a punch in the face."

4) In my humble opinion, restaurants and food communicate the bulk of any community's culture. It's one way we learn about where we are and what literally fuels the people in it. So, we have found we enjoy going into places that seem as authentically local to the neighborhood we're in. (Trust us, in some of these towns, a diner is it! (On another--more disturbing note--we haved asked folks for their recommendations and we literally have been sent to some chains: disappointments like, "Taco Casa" or "Taco Bueno". ))

5) Last, when you travel with a chef, he still has to bring his kitchen with him---even when he's traveling by bicycle. Luna was embarassed that I took this picture, but I think it drives home our main point, which is: once we've had our fix with grease, we're more than ready to settle back into good hotel-cooking. Hot pasta is always awesome and just too easy to make. (The only trick: try NOT to set off the fire alarm and sprinkler system. Hotels tend to frown on that.)

We're in Arkansas, But First Some Thoughts About Texas...

We actually left Texas two days ago and headed into the state where former President Bill Clinton was born. In fact, we even passed by his birthplace, Hope. (I kid you not. (Could that have been the miracle we're looking for?))

But first some thoughts about Texas:

1) Gorgeous countryside. An immense greenery. Land further beyond the eye can see.
2) Overwhelming smell of manure, which meant...
3) Lots of cows. Lots and lots of cows.
4) Restaurants (we only went to two, actually), which pretty much only offered beef. Very difficult for a porkatarian.