I am not one for making a plan or carrying a map, prefering to find my way by feel or hoping there will be a sign, a foolish strategy likely picked up from my father. If I don’t have anywhere in particular to be, though, the Never Fail Guide Service is perfectly sufficient. It does mean, however, that sometimes I end up on my first solo camping trip, at Davis Bayou in Gulf Islands National Seashore, riding around rich people’s cul de sacs or on roads with no shoulders. Oh well. I rode around so many weird neighborhoods today, showing so many levels of wear, passing folks smoking on their porches in their Slankets, kids on bikes, old ladies with dogs, and a Justin Bieber lookalike on a skateboard–I hope he finds his way out. I took a right on Beachview Road, hoping it would lead me to a beach view. I usually have bad luck following roads in search of their namesakes (today’s trip down Old Oak Lane a case in point), but today I ended up here, at the boat launch at Lake Mars, where the marsh meets saltwater, just me, my bike, and this great blue heron. And now I’m back in the park, writing from a bench tucked away in the marshy grass, waiting for the longest night of the year to kick in. I wouldn’t be here if not for the bike.