Springfield to Berea

60 miles. Berea or bust.

Persistent and I had planned months ago for her to visit me here, in Berea, since it is the shortest drive from her home in Michigan. As it turns out, she is just too busy to come to the craft capital of the country, so I told her I'd make some crafty things and think of her. P, I wish you were in Berea!

As usual, we woke up early to get on the road by 6:30 for an early arrival to Berea. After finishing off a continental breakfast, the sun was still asleep. I suppose the sun even needs a break from warming the earth. This time change thing always throws me! So we had the joy of snoozing a bit longer, ahh simple pleasures. I thought I was going to have to dump a bucket of cold water on McKinley though, she had a hard time rallying today. We're so beat and ready to stop riding bikes, but there's still another whole state ahead of us. I hate rallying.

The ride in was easy, with a handful of gentle rollers. I shot ahead of McKinley most of the day; she took her time spinning slowly to conserve the little bit of energy she had. Early on I thought she might just lay in the gravel and wait for death, so I kept turning around to make sure she was still upright. Turns out, she rallied well. For some reason, I felt a little more energetic than usual lately, maybe it was knowing we get a rest day tomorrow.

Hey, Kentucky, stop being so awesome, because I know your eastern half is supposed to be scary! We rolled through Danville, a quaint town with a bustling little economy filled with trendy cafe's, a knowledgeable bike shop, and lots of restaurants and shops. We met Andrew, a cutie worker at the bike shop, who rode the TransAm in '09 with his dad. They seemed to make a great working team. Kentucky is my surprise state, for sure.

Today we experienced the first major storm of this trip, and I don't think I've seen rain like that since well before leaving home. Luckily we had shelter during the massive streaks of lightening bolts, I would have definitely crapped myself if we were stuck out in it. Good thing for drive through liqour stores and their huge garages. So we hung out with some unusually short men until the storm passed.

After riding in extreme heat and a full-on sun for over 2 months, riding in a hard rain for 20 miles was surprisingly a welcome change. I threw up my fist and yelled, "Mother Nature, is that all you got?!" And for the first time since Colorado (or earlier?), there was a chill to the air.

Sadly, I can count on one hand how many times it has rained this summer: Oregon was a bit wet and misty overall, it rained a light rain back at the John Day Fossil Beds, and it rained on Lolo Pass, the divide between Idaho and Montana. This drought has led to the loss of probably billions of dollars in crops. Every brown corn field we passed, I looked at with sadness and compassion. Yesterday, I inspected a corn cob, and it looked like those dry, decorative ones that are put out at Thanksgiving.

Sandy is here! She treated us to a luxurious hotel room and dinner at a Thai restaurant. Thank you so much, Sandy! Tomorrow we will have a full day of resting and hanging out. Do you hear any complaints? Naw.