Day Twelve

Today was cool until it became tonight. We chilled in a library and got szechuan tofu in Marion, IL, which was rad. Then things got hectic/shitty.

We were lucky to find a Wal-Mart again today, heading into Murphysboro. It was a nice break from the Twister sequel we were shooting. When we came out, the torrential downpour had ceased, though it was getting dark, and we cruised into the city. All was easy breezy, until we went to find our campground. Riding bikes at night in a foreign place sucks the most ridiculous beef stick I have ever seen.

We weren’t lost but we pulled into a bar to ask a guy outside where the campground is. He was cool, and we weren’t far off. We climbed a fat hill, which felt great on my knee, and then at the top, I got a flat. It was like a dream come true. So after unloading, finding the piece of broken beer bottle in my tire, and re-loading the bike, it was 9:30. That may not seem like a big deal, but bedtime is 8, and we’d been up since 4.

Campground entrances are always a grand fucking adventure at the end of a long day, and this one was no different. Probably three miles of total darkness, hill after hill after hill. It rocked. Our “campsite” itself, well, it’s sort of like a beach, except it sucks.

I’m tired and going to bed. Today was another “easy day” by the way: only 84 miles.

I’m out.

T.