Charlene feeds me breakfast, her granddaughter makes me a beautiful painting and gives me a paper heart for my sister (well transmitted!).
It’s almost ten when I make it back on the road. The day is nice, it’s not too hot, the road is wide open.
Until I hear the DREADED snap again. It’s, once more, another spoke that’s died on me. I think I can now officially call my rear wheel deceased. If I am not even able to make some 100 kilometres without breaking, I should consider changing the wheel.
I call Paul from Montezuma for he told me to give him a ring should I break down again in Kansas. He ordered a new double-rim wheel for me the other day: it was supposed to be shipped to a bike store in Pittsburgh. He calls the shop to have the wheel re-shipped to Montezuma. I will be therefore hanging around until it gets here. I might be off the road for a week or so and Paul invites me to stay at his place. I am so lucky.