Alright, alright, alright. I learned my lesson. I won’t tell you half a story on instagram and then tell you I will give you the full one ever again. I received too many messages about this post and now I feel like it will be a let down—kind of like the Matrix sequels.
Three days ago, I left from Rolla, MO and made my way northwest to Iberia. I was taking my time so a forty mile day didn’t seem like such a bad idea. When I biked into the outskirts of Iberia, which looked just like its downtown, I passed a VFW (V-F-Dubya) with a man locking the front door. Since I was looking for a place to bed down for the night it seemed like a good place to start.
I pulled up as he was turning around to get in his truck. Despite the heat, he was wearing a pair of light blue jeans and a button up long sleeve about the same color. From the distance, the outfit looked like a tracksuit that someone would have worked out in in the 80s. From up close, it reminded me of an uncle I never had that smoked a pack a day and ate the same shitty canned food for every meal. He flashed me a look thatI have become familiar with at this point. It’s the same look everyone gives me—a blend of confusion and offense in one short gaze.
My bike rattled to a stop just short of his truck and I introduced myself.
“I’m Lee.” He said as we shook hands. His eyes told a story that led me to believe that he had seen more and done more at age 30 than most do their whole damn lives, and he is probably in his 80s now.
“Do you know a good place where I can camp in town?” I asked.
“There ain’t much here, son. What are you looking for?”
“I don’t need much, just a place to set up a tent really.”
He stared back at the front door he just locked. This was my hope.
“You want to camp in the backyard here?” Lee asked.
Dammit!
“Sure, that sounds perfect,” I said.
He showed me around back. Without saying a word, he made it clear he wasn’t a chatty man.
“The yard is yours,” he said. “If anyone bothers you just tell ‘em Lee gave you permission.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Yup. It’s time for me to go home.” Lee walked back to his truck with his head down and an arm swing that seems unique to old men and drove off.
I propped my bike up and pulled out my blanket., I wasn’t set on the spot just yet but would enjoy a nap before I made my decision, or so I thought. Just as I began to doze off, a mosquito got me good. And then another. And then a-fucking-nother! I was under attack by some of the biggest damn mosquitos I have seen and they were feasting on my flesh faster than I could swat at them. The onslaught was more than enough for me to cram my blanket back in the bag and ride out.
I knew I didn’t want to ride far but didn’t know how lucky I would get. There was a hostel on the map but, by the looks of the town, I didn’t take it seriously, and after riding by a house that looked like a brothel and meth lab combined, I decided to keep pedaling.
I ate some food at a local convenience store and checked out my map. I saw a few churches in town and figured I would check out their lots to see if I could camp at one. The first didn’t have a lot, the second was a solid, “absolutely not,” and the third was going to have to do. It was located on a plot of land that had a neighboring apartment building or house from almost every angle. I found one small nook behind a waist high wall and a back door that I was sure no one could see me from and laid out my blanket. I wasn’t going to set up my air mattress until the sun went down that way if someone came by I could just tell them I was taking a break. Until then, I laid there and read until it was dark enough.
Over a hundred pages later, then sun was fully set and I moved my stuff out of the church’s security lights to a flat grassy spot behind a metal shed. I decided that I wouldn’t set up my tent because I didn’t want to bring too much attention and if I was asked to leave I didn’t want to have to pack it up. The stars were out but I knew it was going to be an uncomfortable night with the humidity and lack of privacy, but it was the best I found and maybe the stargazing would make up for it.
After an hour or two of struggling to fall asleep, I rolled towards the church’s parking lot and heard a scurry of paws grinding across the gravel and asphalt. A fifty pound streak of shadow and grunting ran passed me on all fours before I could even get a look at it.
Greeaat. Whatever that was, it’s coming back.
I assumed that it would probably circle around me and come up from the other side of the building. I sat up and hoped that the security lights would cast a shadow of The Nightstalker but I wasn’t so lucky. I had unknowingly entered a game of wits and patience with it, two things I didn’t have much of at the time. I wanted to go to sleep and had just added a new item on the list of reasons of why I couldn’t. I sat up for what felt like an eternity waiting for The Nightstalker. My eyes lost interest in the stars and my neck grew fatigued from carrying my big old dome around all day. A long battle of touch-and-goes commenced and eventually a sweet sleep became too enticing. I laid back down and started to doze off.
In my dreams, my point of view shifted between predator and prey until I could no longer remember which was which. Was I stalking my kill or quietly evading my end? The dream’s cycle continued over and over until I woke up with a jolt. My whole body contracted from my deep breaths, I stared off into the wood line as I tried to catch my breath when I became incredibly aware that I was being watched.
Without turning my head, I could see a dark spot next to my bags and bike five feet from me to the right. I lost the first battle of patience but a new one just began—neither of us moved. From the corner of my eye I tired to make out as much as I could but all I could see was two pointed ears pulled back. The rest was a mass of curved lines hunched low to the ground. I stop breathing and hoped that my heartbeat wasn’t as loud to The Nightstalker as it was to me.
Its ear flinched.
“Git!” I roared, in a voice that came out uncomfortably southern, and bounced to my feet.
Legs, shoulders, and ass tripped over itself as it scurried back to the woods. It never came back but I never slept either.
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