Day 49. Rest Day in Monticello

This week we covered 445 miles for a total of 2780.5. Wow, the miles are really starting to pile up. We have another day and a half in Indiana; then Ohio. Next week at this time we expect to be near Niagra Falls. We attended church this morning. It is nice to fellowship with others of like faith. The church was small and friendly. It was also communion Sabbath; we enjoyed that.

Impressions

What is it like being on the road? Each day stands on its own. Planning can only loosely extend beyond one day. Mostly it is living in the moment. There is pedaling, moving down the road, listening for cars, checking how you feel, pressing on to gain more speed, slowing up to be sure you can sustain the effort, taking breaks to ease discomforts. Looking around.

It is always joy to move through the countryside on a bike. It is faster than walking, more sustainable than running. We really cover territory. Who would even want to trace out our route; by car even? It's 2700 miles. That is a very long car trip.

We are partners with events. We can't force outcomes. The wind is favorable or unfavorable. We make the best of whatever is provided. Sometimes that means we make only 30 miles in a headwind. Other times we are drenched in rain. Yet other times we fly with the wind and watch the miles speed by. A fellow hails us from the side of the road. We stop, talk, take advise, change plans. All very fluid and dynamic. There is nothing to force,; you just go with events. Life happens.

This is what it really means to "live the life" right now. There is no real planning, just action. Nothing is forced, it just comes. Our faith for safety and blessing is in God and we lay all at His feet (or try too). Literally anything can happen - and does. Act, move, breath, pedal, rest. It is enough. Find nightly shelter, talk to people. Listen.

These are the things that are the joy of bike touring. Yes, there are pains, we are often uncomfortable. These are nothing but annoyances when riding in the stream of life in the way we currently are.

Joy.

The offering

This moist, humid morning the corn stands straight and tall reaching for the the heavens, fresh blades pointing straight up as we slip by on our bikes. The horizon is a bit hazy. There are waves and bands of moisture seeming to rise from the corn heavenward. An offering from the corn.

The sun warms; the moisture continues its rise. Early higher clouds disappear. Humid. Clouds begin forming, it gets warmer. An envelope of moisture surrounds. Droplets form on everything; drops fall on my glasses despite my headband. The corn looks happy. Water envelops my arms in an unbroken sheet. My forearms are wrapped in sheets of liquid.

Clouds build. The horizon is less distinct. Is it darker over there? As we take a turn south, three hills are laid out before our view. The next three miles. It is very hazy and indistinct over the last hill. Rain? The sun is dimmer. The clouds still building.

No rain. We coast into town and take a break at our favorite chain, Caseys. Caseys is store, gas, and fresh daily donuts in one. We are warned of approaching storms on radar. It comes while at Caseys. The heavens open up releasing the moisture, returning the offering, renewing the corn.

For the next 5 hours, drenching rain and wind. Even with full rain gear, we are wet. But from rain or exertion - who can know? The rain hitting my lips as I ride stings a little. Big drops; driving rain. Not altogether unpleasant. We learn to live with feeling sloppy. It is a sloppy day for us.

The corn rejoices.

~ Pete