Fifteen mph wind dead on the nose and rain didn't sound like something up with which we wanted to put, so we paid cash money to skip the first half of 71 miles. I suggested paying twice as much to go the whole distance, but Susan insisted we show at least some commitment to our craft. Seventy-one more give-us-a-break miles, 37 under our own power . 1,683 will-the-tires-make-it? left. As it happened, where we finally demonstrated some pride was also the tipping point on this trip: miles remaining equal what we have done. Either way, 1,737 slo-mo miles Three days ago was the ETP (Equal Time Point — sudden flashback to my transoceanic days).
Today's task was two-fold: the obvious one being to propel ourselves closer to the Atlantic; secondarily, although with the benefit of hindsight, probably primarily, was getting to a bike shop. The latter has been true for quite some time. Since time unknown — time has a different meaning on a trek like this — Susan's rear wheel has had a wobble that at some speeds resonates with the rear rack and panniers. I figured the problem was that of adjusting spoke tension at the wobble, pulling it back into line. The multi-tool in our kit has spoke wrenches. Two of them. Not three. It needs three. So I had to watch her bike doing the watusi and she had to put up with it, until we got to a bike shop. Of which there have been precisely none that were a) open, and b) not wildly out of the way. The first candidate was in Sarnia. Open, practically next door to the hotel. Did I remember to mention yesterday was Canada Day: The fireworks were...
Yesterday's stage, and the next couple days, will be delayed due to: Very limited wifi; and, Good friends of ours from our days in England, Skippy and his wife Audrey, live in Piedmont, SD. They are meeting us in Spearfish this evening, and we are staying at their house tomorrow. I have a strong feeling there will be drinking involved delays.
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