My overnight stay with Lori and Chuck was the result of a command decision by Amanda in Umatilla, something of a freak accident from my all-too-human point of view, but it's yielded some unexpected fruit (Chuck, by the way, says there are no accidents).
First, I think I've made two more friends. Chuck and Lori were cool and relaxed from the beginning, and keenly interested in my project. While we have many differences (e.g., what the heck do I know about biker culture?), we share an interest in religious matters and, dare I say it, a desire to live deeply.
Lori, it turns out, runs a women's ministry, which I think is great. She and I had a far-ranging talk about life, the universe, and everything, and it became clear that she is a passionately giving person; I admire her dedication to the service of those in need.
Chuck, for his part, has offered to be my chase car (well, chase bike) to and from Walla Walla, which will allow me to make better time to the city. He also took my backpack off my hands this morning, allowing me to walk to Umatilla unencumbered, which came as a great relief (you'll recall that Dave Underwood did something similar for me in Centralia, WA).
Well, Chuck's good-heartedness apparently knows no bounds, because he also rumbled up to me on his Harley and gave me one of his old leg braces ("I've had four knee operations," he said)-- one of those reinforced braces with metal joints on either side of it.
The difference to my leg was like night and day. No joke. For the first hour after I put the brace on, I was walking full-speed down the road. The pain eventually began to creep back, but at nothing like the level it had been at earlier in the morning. I made steady progress to Umatilla, first along the comfortably sandy Heritage Trail, then along 730 again when the trail became too overgrown. (That was where Chuck found me hobbling along.)
Later in the afternoon, Chuck and Lori met me at G and J, a burger joint in Umatilla. Chuck had stuck my pack in a cycle trailer and had left the trailer at the home of Kyle and Amanda, my Thursday night hosts. The plan is for me to walk about fifteen miles to a campground just beyond Hat Rock (Sandy Station, if I remember correctly), and I'll call Chuck in the afternoon and ask him to tow my pack from Umatilla to the campground. Lather, rinse, repeat: Chuck says he's willing to help out over the weekend to get me to Walla Walla, and if I need to go back south to I-84 on a weekend, he'll drive my stuff back to I-84 to help speed me on my way.
Amazing. Humbling. I'm very thankful.
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