Yesterday: Canton, CT to Salisbury, CT. A late start, a short day, and a great campsite.
The night before we left my Tio Donfer's house, there was a bit of a scare. Tia Ale got the phone call that no child's mother wants: one your child's friends has........lice. Meltdown initiation sequence: activated. The kids were promptly scrubbed down with lice genocide shampoo. Then, I noticed that I had an itch on my head. I thought for a split-second that I may be the most recent victim of an infestation. So Vanessa checked my scalp (see e.g., the Rhesus monkey), and I was infestation free. So, we got another night of great indoor sleep in preparation for a big day ahead.
The big day ahead began at 11AM-ish. 2.5 hours behind schedule. We were a little ways off route, so we used Googlemaps as our navigator and got back on route. We had an easy ride, and we took plenty of breaks. During one of the breaks, we sat on the lawn of a mechanic's shop to eat a scrumptious Clif bar when we were approached by a rather shy gentleman. He asked if we were riding our bikes. We answered in the affirmative. He then asked if we needed a yard to camp in and a place to do laundry. This was something of a mis-timed random act of generosity. It was roughly 1PM, and we had only ridden 20 miles. We politely declined, and I tried to prod the shy gentleman into conversation. I failed in this endeavor, and the gentleman disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
We continued the ride, and took a small detour off of the main highway about 30 miles into the ride. The detour had three points of interest: a huge furnace from the industrial revolution, Land of Nod winery, and Mr. Awkward. The huge furnace was huge, and used to produce iron until 1912. The winery had a great blueberry wine, which we bought, and subsequently drank. Mr. Awkward was a man who rode up on a bike when we were at the furnace, and asked if we were Patty and Mike. No, sorry Mr. Awkward, we are not Patty and Mike. Why? Oh........I thought you were Patty and Mike......they have touring bikes too. Oh great, we say. There was a rather long pause, which, after a small amount of time, became awkward. Mr. Awkward asked us a few more questions, and we asked him a few questions, but conversation eventually fizzled out, and Mr. Awkward skittered away.
So, we keep riding.
40 miles in, and we cross the Appalachian Trail. I expected a big sign, a marching band, and legions of filthy hikers. Instead, we almost missed it. We had to turn around, and saw a very small sign, and a footpath about 1 foot wide. That was it. We decided to stop and walk down the trail for a bit.
Not only are we biking across the U.S., but we have also hiked the Appalachian Trail. Booya.
Continuing our regularly scheduled programming: the Appalachian Trail spoke to us, so we decided to set up camp there. And camp we did.
Photographic evidence: Blast furnaceThe AT