Rain is pooey
It started to rain last night, tip tap on the tent. No big deal. It was actually kind of soothing, the sound put me right to sleep. But by morning it was a different story, no longer soothing nor cozy. Packing up the tent in the rain is not fun. But eating a ‘heaping pile of blueberry pancakes’ is. Mark, the guy who owns the bar where we stayed, took us to the ‘Middle of nowhere’ cafe and it was great. Mark is a great guy with a contagious laugh. A jolly man with twins boys and a little girl. He is proud of living in the middle of nowhere and if he didn’t have responsibilities, he would come to Florida with us. But his family needs him, and he doesn’t have a bike, small details.
We pedaled down highway 3 in Rhode Island, flew through Connecticut, jumped on a ferry and now I am coming at you from Green Port Long Island! Three states in one day, try that feat on a bike in the rain.
The accent has changed again, the loud New England drawl has given way to an even louder Long Island twang. I like it. We are in New York now, the ‘Empire State’ as the welcome sign proudly states. Too bad the Yankees lost, probably shouldn’t mention the them that the Colorado Rockies have made it further, haha.
Once again we have met another savior. While asking for directions at a small repair shop we met Roberta. Roberta has a great smile and offered up her small back yard. She also offered us chicken soup, fresh Zuccini bread, popcorn and a houseful of curious children. Her boys are great and very well behaved, they even helped us set up the tents and showed us funny videos on youtube. I feel like I have known them for a long time, it’s very comfortable here. I hope it doesn’t rain tonight.
Enoyin’ yow blogs Duze… thanks for letting us live vicariously through your misadventures… CRACKA!