Mileage from start: 3,652
We slept well and dried out the tent at the hotel. The weather forecast called for heat and humidity. Come what may.
As soon as we walked out of the hotel, the heat felt like a heavy weight. Oh, well.
We started biking and slogged along all day.
We stopped twice for ice cream and contemplated a third.
At the second stop we met a guy biking from San Fransisco to Boston and chatted for a bit. He asked where we were staying that night. I said we were going to push on another 30 miles or so.
“Late night,” he said.
Yeah. We aren’t like the other bikers. I realize that each time we talk to others cross country cyclists. We bike longer, start later and eat more convenience store food than most. I honestly don’t know where these people eat in small towns if they don’t eat at gas stations. It’s all small-town middle America has for food.
Whatever. Because cyclists don’t travel in large groups (it just makes logistics harder and impairs safety), there’s less cross pollination of ideas and systems. Everyone becomes insular, and uniquely so, in how they like to do things.
Richard says that even adding me to his systems from biking from San Diego to St. Augustine, Florida (a ride he did in 2009) has changed how he operates. (Ex. More coffee, less bread-and-cheese diet; wake up later, more sugar.)
Crash update: I crashed again. This time it was when my front wheel touched Richard’s back wheel when he told me to look left at a chair someone had put out for free. I looked left; he slowed down a bit; the wheels touched; I lost my balance.
I came down on my left butt cheek; the bike flopped left under my right leg. No exposed skin touched the pavement, so no road rash really. It was a slow-speed crash again, which is good. But I need to stop doing this.
I’ve also had two flats recently. Front and back. Both times it was glass shards I ran over. Maybe it’s getting to be time for new tires.