I slept all of two minutes last night. The drunken campers two slots over were watching the movies until midnight. And it was way colder than I expected. And my sleeping pad was useless.

So I got up early and hit the road. I ended up in Freedom (I kid you not) on the 4th of July. As I was about to raid a minimart, a local told me to eat at Rico’s around the corner. So I did.

For $12 + tip I got 2 plates of food, a giant glass of OJ, and 3 1/2 mugs of watery coffee. I simply could not eat it all. Good thing too. All the other Rico’s customers were about as large as you might expect.

For some reason the next 15 miles seemed uphill the whole way.

There were farms. Of every persuasion. It was depressing to see the veal operations. I don’t eat veal often but I think I’ll stop altogether now.

For much of the ride I was off in space. I’d sort of snap out if it from time to time. My biking is my meditation indeed.

I was serenaded by red wing black birds all morning. Their chirps were so regular they had me wondering if something was clicking on my bike.  A pair of quail burst out of some roadside underbrush.

The terrain began to get hillier. Despite this, I was considering pushing for an 85 mile day until I met a cross country bike tourist by the name of Rob Bloomquist heading east. (I later learned that I had read some of his bike journals on line.) He stayed at the campground I was shooting for. He said it was crap so I went back to plan A. I stopped at 70 miles. The campground is quiet and has a waterfall.

Tomorrow is set to be my first 80 mile day. That’s the plan but I’m going to take it one mile at a time,  Riding  between over and next.