Down And Safe
I've made it to Breaks Interstate Park. Today's ride was about 45 miles, including climbs that resembled yesterday's, only broken into two or three 500- to 800- foot climbs instead of one 1,400-foot climb. And there was rain. Lots of it.
It's dark, and I'm sitting in my tent listening to the sounds of drops hitting the fly while bluegrass fiddle echos through the well-populated campground. That music I don't mind so much. The air is so humid outside that my breath formed great glowing clouds about my face as I walked around, illuminated by my Petzl headlamp.
I'll be staying here tomorrow, because the Knee Department has filed all the proper paperwork and formally requested a break.
I'm proud of myself: there's a Lodge here, with cozy rooms and showers and beds and so on. I resolved: I hauled this stuff up this mountain and I'm damn well going to make camp with it, rain or no rain.
And so, here I sit, a few miles from the Kentucky border, close enough to Elkhorn City to get online without the big antenna or the amplifier.
More tomorrow.
