Day 44 - The Victory Lap - King William to YORKTOWN, VA!!!

July 2nd, 2009

We didn't sleep much in King William. Partly because it was our last night on the RLPT and we were getting all emotional and were up half the night crying and stuff, and for me, partly because I had ditched almost all my gear (including sleeping bag and air mattress) in Charlottesville in favor of a crash and burn landing into Yorktown. So in true hobo glory, we slept on top of some picnic tables in the Pow-wow shelter (I regret not sleeping in the dugout canoe), and I shivered while contemplating taking Sam out and stealing his sleeping bag.

We woke up the earliest of any single day on the RLPT yet, 5:15 (!), to a magical land of mist (geeaz). The air was about 500% humidity and we could only see about 10 feet out of the shelter. Slowly the sun came over the trees and burned away the cloud we were sheltered in, and the day was set - crisp, clear, and beautiful for our victory ride into Yorktown! We almost couldn't tell a difference, it was just another day of riding. Wake up, pack up, caffeine up, and ride on. But I think once we started counting down mileage in our heads as usual, and realized that the number was under 50 for the rest of the trip, and that this was really the last 50 we would count down at all this summer, things started to change. We voted in a unanimous decision that to celebrate our last day we would need to pound some energy drinks right away. So at the first gas station we humiliated two energy drinks. (that means we drank them) I think Sam might have even crushed a 32 oz. gatorade, but I can't even tell anymore, the addiction has consumed his life so. We knew that Sam's mom, Mike, Julie, Christian, Chris, and Meggie were going to be at the beach at 12, so there was no time to waste today.

The road was flatter than ever the whole way, and we cruised to West Point, where glory was laid before us:
Our first glimpse of the almost-almost-Ocean. View from the bridge we crossed in West Point, looking down the York River (which runs into the Chesapeake bay, which runs into the Atlantic, duh!)

I had decided weeks earlier, that the only proper way to finish this thing would be flying an American flag on my bike. I envisioned a 15 foot pole lashed to my frame with a 10 foot wide flag fluttering behind, but it turns out that was unreasonable. We stopped in Williamsburg to find a flag. Now, if we couldn't find an American flag in WILLIAMSBURG, VA, 2 days before the FOURTH OF JULY, then I don't know anything anymore. But as it turns out, at least 3 trading posts in Williamsburg are harboring terrorists because they didn't have flags. And that's why we decided Obama needs to amend the Constitution to require every single store in America to sell flags.

Anyways, a UVA alum came to the rescue (of course) as I was purchasing a flag at the fourth store we tried. I was asking if he sold a flagpole to go with it and I told him about our trip and how we had just graduated, and he told me he was a UVA grad of the class of '80. He went in the back and brought out a flag attached to a pole and just gave it to me, since our trip was a worthy cause he said! He also just gave us a smaller UVA flag for free to fly along with it! I rigged up Old Glory to my bike and Sam attached UVA's flag to his pack, and we were finally ready for our nonstop 10 more miles to victory.
We sailed along the Colonial parkway the rest of the way in, a fitting finish for the final leg of the RLPT, and with each glimpse of the York river we got more excited. As we rolled into the beach area, we saw the huge bridge, plenty of delicious sand and water, and Sam's mom, but no friends! After another lap up and back down the parking lot we spotted the rest of them holding up a finish line of red, white, and blue streamers leading down the ramp onto a dock! We broke through it in a state of glorious ecstasy while being assaulted by water balloons and encouraged to keep riding all the way off the dock! It probably would have felt great, but I figured I shouldn't ruin another phone / ipod / lose 44 days worth of pictures by drowning my camera. The finish line was awesome and a fabulous conclusion to the trip, thanks guys!!
We baptized our bikes ceremoniously in the sweet waters of the Atlantic, and after judging the jellyfish content of the beach to be too high, headed to Meggie's pool for several hours. We were ridiculed by children and teens for our tan lines and lack of diving board "skills", but took revenge by showing them our drivers licenses. For the rest of the night we celebrated and grilled out at Meggie's, sharing stories, reminiscing of our good old days in college when we were young and beautiful, and lamenting the REALity of the real world.
RLPT by the numbers:

3,747.9 - miles
44 - days on the road
26- flat tires
3 - rest days
800 - 32oz. gatorades (Sam)
4 - dollars lost by Aaron in the Montana lottery
0.93 - lbs of cheese stolen by Ravens
8 - jars of peanut butter finished by Aaron
0 - # of sleeves on James' red jersey
7 - miles spent in Nebraska
8,530 - elevation of Sylvan pass (highest point on our trip)
11 - states
0 - dollars remaining in our bank accounts combined

Well we hope you enjoyed it as much as we did. Thanks so much to everyone who followed along and supported us, and anyone who is still reading / checking to see if we would get our acts together and finish writing our blog! We couldn't be more thankful for all the help people gave us in letters, care packages, places to sleep, food, thoughts, and prayers.

We may have to grow up, but the spirit of the RLPT will never die, rage on protestors!

Also, a lot of people have mentioned that they would like one of the t-shirts we made, so we're going to make another order from underground printing! If you'd like one, even if you think you've already told me, send me an email at ras6d@virginia.edu and let me know along with your size. They are going to be $18, and they're sweet quality shirts - American Apparel. Thanks!

Day 43 - Charlottesville to King William...Sort of - Maybe It's the 482 Days Talking But...

...oh hello there pringles can.

Distance: 164 km (It's Metric Sunday, honoring the Tour de France!)

So after a marvelous evening enjoying the Grand Marc hot tub courtesy of the recession (apparently the hard times have made Grand Marc unable to pay nighttime security guards), we slept in like the motivated champions we are. Thanks Ali for the place to crash! Aaron and I decided we couldn't leave the home of our dear alma mater without remembering our good ol' glory days with a trip to Bodo's. So we went with Ali and met up with Alli (haha) at 8:59am to indulge in some good ol' nostagia. Ahh, seems like yesterday we were here, laughing it up with our good ol' college buds. After giving a good ol' digestion punch to those breakfast bagels, we got outta good ol' (all right I'll stop) Cville, avoiding getting squished the whole way. Charlottesville, as progressive and self-righteous as it is, is a fantastically dangerous place to find yourself on a bicycle. Luckily, we didn't get destroyed and we at last made it into the Albemarle countryside.

The day was perfect, the road was open, and the scenery was glorious. And as usual, by glorious scenery I mean the road was generally heading downhill. But then I suppose a road lined with scenery like that in Bosler or Hima would be beautiful if it went on a DH. Still, Albemarle is very pretty (and you pay for every bloody ounce of it too) and the ride was just jolly. Of course, the fact it was the last full day of riding didn't hurt either.

We hit the town of Mineral and after debating the chance of any foodstuffs on the road ahead, we chose to follow a local's advice about the colorfully-named "Mineral Restaurant". Aaron had a grilled cheese and "all but one" onion rings. That essentially means that you get a plate of onion rings and then a loud smoky fella comes in and takes one for giggles. God bless America. He and his buddy came in and sat with us too, and we discussed the usual "You got that bike all the way from SEATTLE!?" and the not-so-usual "There's a chance you two could be my kids!" I had a calzone which was completely delicious but it was not nearly as interesting.

We left Mineral full on America and rode toward the labyrinth of country roads that tangle themselves north of Richmond. Up to this point on the trip, we hadn't really gotten lost. A few missed turns, sure, but not lost. Well naturally, on the last full day, we got ourselves pretty turned around. When you get on roads that even the finely drawn (EIGHT DOLLAR!) map fails to indicate, things get a bit tricky. After riding in a giant loop, we finally found a local sportsmen who directed us the exact way to go, and didn't even make us feel stupid either! What a great guy. We found our way out of the maze of roads and hit US Hwy 1 and pounded Rockstars and candy...of course. We steeled ourselves with dragon might and rode onward past King's Dominion and its 1/3 replica of the Eiffel Tower (ah memories) and kept moving toward King William.

About 8 miles from our planned endpoint, we came across a strip mall which beckoned us, yet again, with free Subway. So we procured our sandwiches (thanks once more Mom!) and prepared to hit the road for the final leg of the day. Simultaneously, a thunderstorm prepared itself to hit us for the final leg of the day, and after only two very fast miles of us trying to outrun the worst of the rain, we realized that the storm had dragon of its own and we stood no chance. Luckily Aaron spotted with his American Bald Eagle eyes a shelter situated well off the road, and we sprinted to it just as the rain really came blasting down. But as usual our heroes survived and spent the night on top of picnic tables under a shelter at a Pow Wow site. Typical. No easy sleep tonight, Yorktown in half a day!!!!

Also I apparently failed to take any pictures this day. Whoops.

Day 42 - Buena Vista, VA to CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA!

Each day in Virginia has built on the excitement of realizing our trip's glorious finish, and we swear we can smell the ocean from here. At this point we don't need any more incentive to get up early in the morning, we're so close! Thanks Sam's mom for the motel!! Man, has Virginia been treating us good or what?

I woke up this morning and grabbed a donut that Sam's mom had left us, and of course got back in bed to eat it, because there's nothing like a bed donut to start your day. (It's kind of like the magical experience of the shower-brew) Cody "wakes up" and rolls over and demands in a sleep-stunned mumble, "what are you doing!??". I reply, "I'm eating a donut". He is incredulous, and rolls back over mumbling "Gaaaaad!!" Apparently the appalling donut-in-bed combined with the early time was too extreme for his mind, and when I recounted his reaction to him 20 minutes later he didn't remember it.

We knew we had a 4 mile climb right out of the motel to get up onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, and after experiencing the intensity the Appalachains brought coming out of western Kentucky we were mentally prepared for a climb up Everest. Of course we took precautions: Cody secured his failing shoe-sole with bright blue duct tape and pounded a mountain dew, I'm pretty sure Sam finished half a gallon of limeade, and I ate macadamia nuts. I'd say we over-prepared mentally for the climb, and to control the excess mental-energy we were left with at the top we each solved pi to 200 digits in our heads, typical.
The Blue Ridge Parkway was beautiful, and the weather was perfect! It did follow the RIDGE line, so there were some healthy ups and downs, but we were home now so it didn't matter. There was also very minimal traffic which made for a nice cruisin ride. We passed a group of 60-70 bikers over about 8 miles who were all wearing purple jerseys and were on a youth-group type trip from Indiana to North Carolina. As Cody described them, the first sets of bikers were drafting like champions so hard they didn't have time to lift a finger, the middle groups waved and said things like "you can do it!", and the last groups panted and said things like "kill me!". The last part of the BRP was a beautiful hill of our favorite type--down, and I almost jumped off my bike at 35 mph when I saw a 3-4 foot snake of some kind slithering across the road in front of me.

Coming off the BRP down Afton mountain was an even steeper and straighter downhill, and if not for the traffic I'm sure we could have pushed 90 mph. At the bottom of the hill we were now in very familiar territory - the road we take to ski practice every week (!) - and we could smell Charlottesville, home sweet home! We blazed into Charlottesville and did no less than 30 victory laps around the statue of Thomas Jefferson in front of the Rotunda. We reminisced about our good ole days at UVA and how we were young once. Oh college, I remember those days so well, somedays it feels like it was yesterday, ahhhhh...
Take that TJ! Shazzam!!

We received a glorious and wonderful welcoming in C-ville by all of our friends who were still in town (and some who weren't!) Thanks Ali for taking us in! The RLPT remembers you in its will for your hospitality. We showered at Ali's and then stuffed ourselves at Cici's like we used to in the good ole days (college). More people met up back at Ali's place for festivities and finally, the G-Marc pool and hot tub. We really couldn't have asked for a better night with friends, home sweet home, a relaxing hot tub, and tracing the origins of words back to Romulus and Reemus (typical UVA, don't worry about it).

Day 41 - Cowboys and Dinosaurs and No Free Ice Cream - Blacksburg (sort of) to Buena Vista

A sponser approached us but we declined to maintain our family-friendly image

Distance: 90.0 miles

We left Jon's house at the early hour of 10 am (whoops) and Jon graciously shuttled us back to where he picked us up the night before. Our bikes were still at the IHOP in the same condition we left them in, so that was a pretty solid victory that easily made up for our increasingly late start. It's fun to win without doing anything. It also made us feel a little better about missing out on Megan F....Transformers. We navigated through the morning Christiansburg traffic toward 460, only to find that it fancies itself an interstate these days so we had to pick our way through the business route so we wouldn't get pulled over. So after several U-turns (a nightmare on a busy 4-lane road) we finally escaped the grasp of the Doubleburg situation and hit a much more relaxing (specifically downhill) situation. We rode through the green forests, hills and fields until we came to Elliston, a typical tiny-town-due-to-gas station-presence. After reloading our dragon fuel tanks and a lovely sit in the cool Virginia shade, we hit the road again toward Roanoke.

Now, Roanoke is a pretty decent city, it has all of the good and bad you'd expect of an urban center of its size. However it is not exactly bike friendly. Not even close actually. Fortunately our route was fairly straightforward and we didn't get R-U-N-N-O-F-T the road by any trucks or cars or frenzied BMXers. Still, for all its faults in the "Don't squish cyclists" category, Roanoke does have some seriously great saving graces. Specifically, Sheetz. This gas station/MTO food establishment hybrid is one of the best things to hit southwest Virginia since plumbing, and we made our way to Sheetz like it was the promised land. The existence of $4 footlong subs is close enough to bread from heaven anyway right? So we destroyed our lunch is typical RLPT fashion, sat around and groaned about it for awhile, and finally got back in the saddle for the second part of the day.

I don't care who you are, it's impossible.

Fortunately we made it through most of Roanoke before lunch so as soon as we left Sheetz we were back in the country, full of trees, mountains, and Highway 81. Pressing onward we passed through a great deal of familiar territory, a rather surreal experience as we slowly moved our way through land we've collectively seen as least 284 times from a car window. It's a little different when you see (and earn) every bloody inch of that ground. We eventually came to Natural Bridge (serious ATT) to take a quick rest and were rejected in our attempt to accrue ice cream free of charge. Also they had at least one statue featuring a cowboy riding a dinosaur, and as a history scholar I've ascertained that cowboys did not even LIVE with dinosaurs, much less ride them. Natural Bridge, you need to try researching once in a while. Leaving the gross anachronisms behind, we then headed toward Buena Vista (pronouced Byoo-nuh Vi-sta, not Bway-nah Vee-sta, this is Murica)

Finally after riding wildly (see photo) though the woods toward our destination, we made it to a huge park where we met my mom who generously prepared a colossal spread of edibles, which we tore into with much vigor and barbarism. After many tons of chicken, watermelon, and strawberry yogurt pie, we were finally ready to call it a day. Thanks Mom! We moved on the Buena Vista Motel, where we once again relished some showers and real beds. Good night sleep--Blue Ridge Parkway tomorrow and CHARLOTTESVILLE!

Day 40 - The RLPT grows! Cody's guest appearance, Abingdon, VA to Blacksburg, VA

Distance - 106.5 miles

Casey's parents made us a delicious breakfast in Abingdon, and it was with great pride that we welcomed Cody onto the RLPT 09. He was brutally inducted by 106.5 miles on his first day. Fortunately, he performed like a champ after we guided him towards stronger biking through massive caffeine consumption. Casey and her dad were nice enough to drive us back into Abingdon where they picked us up the night before (thanks Casey!), and we set out with pleasant weather, favorable wind, and some nice flat road for the most part riding up route 11. Cody brought new life and energy back into the RLPT which felt great, and finally I could stare at somebody else's back all day! Cody rides 50% of the time with no hands, swings aggressively at low hanging leaves, taunts passing wildlife, and still manages to keep up with us on his hybrid road bike / mountain bike. His nose was also sunburned because Casey forgot to put sunscreen on his nose, which is of course her responsibility.

In Marion at a gas station we saw the largest RV ever created, must have been at least 60 ft and it got 6 gallons to the mile. We ate a fantastic lunch again on Cat's KFC coupons in Wytheville and drank at least 3 gallons of mountain dew a piece. The mountain's dew powered us forward until Draper's mountain, where we almost saw the end of Cody. Cody pulled through though, and we cruised down one of the more righteous down-hills of the trip into Pulaski, where would we encounter one of America's finest heros - a true champion of the road:
Yeah, he's towing a push lawnmower on that scooter, GBA. We snacked a bit while observing this man, and then 20 more miles to Christiansburg where we met my friend Jon who's working there for the summer. He invited us to see Transformers 2 with a friend, but given the lateness of our arrival and the long day, IHOP and the Endless Pancake Situation (EPS) were even more attractive to us than Megan Fox. IHOP treated us very well despite restaurant temperatures approaching absolute zero, and Jon took us back to his place where we watched the obligatory Michael Jackson tribute after tribute and paid our respects. And Jon has some amazingly comfortable couches, which Cody fell asleep on 2 seconds before even laying down. EPS-coma and 106.5 miles set in soon after for Sam and I.

Day 39 - Smell that Salty Air! Maybe... Yeaddis, KY to Abingdon, VIRGINIA

The long-awaited posts are back and will be coming at your face throughout the next while until we're done. We aren't quitters, gol!!

Distance - 103 miles

We awoke in the luxury of the fellowship hall of the Cutshin Bible Church at the abysmal hour of 5:30 so we could make it to Abingdon in plenty of time for lake fun. Also we wanted a taste of our future lives as domestic adults and Good Housekeeping cover boys (you're going down Jbros).

Oh geeaz.

So we cooked some eggs and sausage in a cast-iron pan and crafted us some seriously serious English muffins. Also featured was cream and sugar with a dash of coffee and a 2 liter of dragon which didn't last long due to our ravenous addiction. After getting loaded on sugar and dragon power, we said goodbye to our shelter and we once again truly thankful for such unwarranted kindness of strangers.

We then hit the road which immediately started uphill for several miles and changed its mind into a sick downhill. Finally being in the Appalachians meant some nasty, merciless ups but some of the most fun and fast downward runs we'd had on the entire excursion. I highly recommend it. We came to a creek at the foot of Pine Mountain, the beast standing between us and Cumberland, the last significant town in Kentucky we'd see. After brief rest, we began the push up Pine, probably the closest thing to a real challenge we'd had so far. After all, while the Cascades and Rockies are higher and more rugged than the seemingly gentle Appalachians, the eastern roads show no sympathy and go straight up without pity. So after only a few absolutely wicked miles up, we reaped the fruit of our labors at the top, relished our potential energy, and went blasting downhill into Cumberland at speeds scientists descirbe as "Holy Crap!"

We took another break in Cumberland to refuel ourselves and procure a VIRGINIA map! It was even laminated! So after slamming a 32 oz Gatorade and a Big 100 bar, I was ready to rock. Aaron somehow can fuel himself simply with heavy metal songs, so we had to move fast before he remained still too long as the power of chainsaws and Civil War cannons is frequently difficult to contain. We biked up more mountain roads straight up the side of Black Mountain, the highest point in Kentucky (A fact we didn't figure out until the day before, go us). Unfortunately, that wasn't really a challenge either but it sure was pretty! And we found a Kentucky state sign! AND WE FOUND VIRGINIA!!!

Made it to the homeland!

Finally reaching our home soil was a feeling that is incredibly difficult to describe to anyone who hasn't experienced a long and strenuous journey to do so. There was a sort of relief involved, but not a relief that the trip was ending, just a very light feeling. Like I said, it's a tough thing to relate. Just know that it was totally AWESOME!! And then the downhill. I realize I don't shut up about these things, because when you have over five miles of 7 to 10% grade on twisty and turny roads after you earned the right to ride it, you tend to get excited. Deal widdit. With our eyes on the prize, we flew down into valley below through Appalachia and into Norton, where we punished a Burger King with the fury of a thousand Joey Chestnuts. We pressed on along 58 toward Abingdon, up, over, and down hills. After another dragon/gatorade stop, we crushed the remaining 28 miles without stopping, drinking, or even breathing. Oh yeah.

We finally hit Abingdon where Casey and Cody met up with us and hauled us to Casey's lakehouse. The food was marvelous, the lake was great and felt so good I decided I'd rather stay in it instead of actually successfully water skiing. What a champ. A night with friends and delicious foods and comfortable beds is hard to beat. We leave the next morning with Cody as a celebrity entourage, hooray! More posts on the way, don't stop raging kids!

Day 38 - The Perfect Storm - Somerset, KY to Yeaddis, KY

Distance - 98.8 miles

We woke up at 6:00 with the best of intentions. We were going to get on the road early and not be biking until sunset as usual. But as luck would have it again, we opened the door to see the perfect storm formulating outside, and the weather channel showed a healthy amount of red and deep red blobs directly over top of Somerset.
After filling up at the continental breakfast, we decided the proper thing to do was go back to sleep. So we did, and woke up two hours later and got our standard not-too-early-start, but good news was that the perfect storm had passed!

For the morning we rode on a large beautifully paved shoulder with gradual inclines, descents, and friendly fellow road-goers. The hills slowly became larger and the inclines steeper, and we plowed full speed ahead with the confidence of the North Cascades, Rocky Mountains, Rockstar, and Metallica combined, fearless in the face of the Appalachians. It turns out though, that the Appalachians are kind of rough. The Appalachians, or at least the roads over them, are ruthlessly steep and curvy in many places, much more so than the super-graded-highways blasted through the Rockies and the Cascades that we took.

We ate some bananas at an IGA grocery store in London, KY, and nearly hijacked a Vault truck that was in the parking lot, but restrained ourselves. We chatted with some older folks in the food court-ish area about our trip who almost literally fainted when we told them we had started in Seattle 38 days ago. They gave us some advice on the roads in our future, and one man assured us we could not make it the 100 miles through coal-country to where we planned to end today. He also gave us a friendly reminder that we were in Wildcat-country, and that Wahoos were to beware in such surroundings. Even 600 miles from home at this point seemed relatively close to us, and the draw of the sweet Virginia border was enough to keep us going faster than ever!

On the way to lunch we encountered two inexcusable displays of atrocious driving. Each time I was in front of Sam, and forced to stare stupid right in the face. Atrocious driver #1 decided to pull out from a stop sign directly in front of us when we were flying across a flat road, requiring an abrupt deceleration to avoid an inbred-collision situation. Atrocious driver #2 requires a bit more explanation, and several minutes of silent thought on your part as you struggle to comprehend driver #2's person. We're flying along another flat road, not 30 minutes later, and we begin to pass a store with a long parking lot connecting to the road along its entire side - so you can pull into the parking lot at ANY point along its length. Nearing the end of the parking lot, a horn begins to blow on the vehicle behind us. I say to myself, aha, this is surely the horn of a neon-accented Geo Tracker (N-AGT). Yes, it is, and tis occupied by 2 older she-beings. Now here, I'm not going to make any generalizations concerning gender and driving, so stop asking about it. ANYWAYS, The N-AGT flies up alongside our incredibly handsome and streamlined drafting charge, horn-a-blasting, and without warning (or blinker mind you) swerves almost through me into the latter portion of the parking lot. While swerving, the she-craft begins to brake suddenly and aggresively across our path, as if to further ensure that I would become another blood-splattered accent on the N-AGT, and that Sam would become another mangled accent across my person in a vicious 2-biker pileup. Alas, we survive. If not for cat-like reflexes, and 4 well suited sets of brake pads, Sam and I would probably have had to fight two old ladies.

I know you're saying to yourself, that WAS atrocious! Unthinkable! Egregious! We agree with you, and would like to hear which incident the real world finds more atrocious: The N-AGT Atrocity, or the Great Raven Cheese Incident of 2009?

Ok, so we are over it, and onto lunch in Hima. Now, Sam and I are going to boast a bit and say that we think we speak fairly good English. Despite our confidence in this great language however, we had some serious trouble understanding the Hima dialect. A man confronted us outside the Hima store and asked us about our bikes (we think). And when you are pushing your third or fourth "what?", "i'm sorry?", or "haah?" in response to a question, you just have to make an educated guess as to what he said and factor in some body language / facial expressions / # of teeth visible at point in time, and make an answer. So the conversation went on an unstable foundation of understanding, and we believe we exchanged at least some information with him. While we ate our lunch outside the store, we further tested our language skills by attempting to interpret the shout-versations going on across the street and around the store. Strike three, Kentucky, strike three.

After lunch the roads became VERY steep and winding, and made us feel like lesser Lances through the French Alps. Every pedal through the Appalachians felt more and more like home though, and it felt good!
Sam has gotten into the habit of pre-melting the snickers he eats.

In Hyden we ate at a very charming little cafe run by 2 really nice young people. They sat and talked with us about the RLPT and were very excited for us, but unfortunately we still didn't get our food for free. We loaded up with some dinner supplies and a crucial 2 lbs of Fig Newtons at a grocery store in town, with plans to camp out somewhere in a small town later on the road. We were approached in the store by a pastor of a local church who insisted on putting us up in a church for the night, and made many-a-call right away to inform the Cutshin Bible Church up the road that we were coming.

We were so surprised by the hospitality and generosity that basically pounced on us that we could hardly even get a word out before we were being greeted into the church after a few more miles of biking. There were kids and moms rolling out of the church when we pulled up saying things like "oohhh there they are!", "they're here!", as if the whole town had received the announcement we were coming. They were awesome people and they fed us leftover hotdogs, chips, soda, and fudge from the youth group meeting that evening. They brought over towels for us to use the church showers, food to cook in the morning before we left, and even set up the coffee machine so all we had to do was press the button in the morning! Unbelievable. Thank you Yeaddis.

I think I just wrote too much for one day.