Wrapping up Route 66

This is my first post about why I'm riding, and here's where to donate to Water Life Hope.  You won't know how much fun you'll have donating until you do it.  Truly.
Sleeper.  Not Kidding.


May 3: Lebanon to Rolla, 65 miles.

This was supposed to be a 48-mile ride.  Oops.  It dawned on us when we rode by a sign saying "Rolla 44 miles", 20 miles or so into the ride.  It was my mistake and Carol was kind and gracious about it.  We rode past a "Welcome to Twin Oaks" sign at one point.  We didn't have time to stop and check it out, but I looked online and the Twin Oaks of intentional community fame is still in Virginia.

Town names don't surprise us anymore, but they still amuse.  Sleeper has to be one of my favorites.   I like to think that there's an Episcopal church there, but they were too busy fulfilling their Sleeper identity to get the sign going.

And then there was fabulous Uranus, Mo.  Turns out it's a tourist attraction, pure and simple.   I got as far as the parking lot when the joke was well worn off.  Carol actually bought famous Uranus fudge. 
Uranus, Mo.  Neil deGrasse Tyson
had nothing to do with it.

The last part of the ride was gorgeous but remote.  We passed a country music video in the making -- looked professional but I really have no way of knowing if we went past a really famous country guy or not.  Dogs are now more challenging on the ride than the wind.  Wind speeds are just lower, and the dogs are more present.  We'll see how we do.

We arrived in Rolla at rush hour on a Friday.  Oh well.  It's still the place with nearly 100 years of mapping tradition.   If you ever use a map anywhere, paper or digital, be grateful. 

And it was Carol's birthday the next day.  So there was cake.  Hooray!

May 4: Rolla to Sullivan, 43 miles.

Yay!
This took forever.  Sometimes the short rides do.  I took off with ginger tea in my water bottle, still in recovery mode.  Got to the top of the hill in Rolla and failed to unclip at a light.  Went right over.  The alarmed driver right behind Carol and I jumped out, convinced that I must be injured in some way.  She was sweet but I was just embarrassed.  No actual harm done.

This part of Missouri is sort of like middle Georgia.  You're always ascending or descending.  And I probably hadn't eaten enough for breakfast.  Bad mistake.  By the time we met Steve in Cuba, Missouri he was convinced I should stay in the bus.  Once again, I felt silly but nothing was really wrong.  I inhaled some food, rested a bit and kept going.

The last two days have been our last days on historic Route 66.  Tomorrow we start heading south.  We expect more dogs, less wind.  We're all ready to head for home.  And I'll remember to eat.

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