The Lazy L, as it turns out, is the most charming little motel we have ever seen. Recently remodeled with a log cabin theme, the place is a sanctuary. The owners are beyond friendly and provided us with Subway coupons, which is like gold considering it is pretty much the only thing we eat anymore.
We took a rest day in Houston and were afforded air conditioning and a bed for another night courtesy of one Nick Swineheart, the Noblehearted. I can't find words to explain how grateful we are to have friends and family such as you. It is not an exaggeration to say that we would be sweating through our skivvies in a city park if it weren't for you.
We spent some time at the library in Houston while the sky opened up and dumped the weighted contents of the entire summer. We had planned on going to the pool but gave it up when the rain persisted.
In it's stead, we watched bad tv, made popcorn with a MICROWAVE that was INSIDE our MOTEL ROOM and drank a bottle of wine. The combination of these simple pleasures are unrivaled.
As much as I enjoy riding a bicycle, the discomfort level, as of late, has become particularly high. Much like having a root canal, every moment that I am not having one I like to remind myself, 'Hey, check it out! You are eating a taco and looking at a bird, NOT having a root canal. Isn't that nice?'.
I have come to savor every moment off the bike like the last bite of cookie dough in my dinner milkshake. (Lunch milkshake is usually strawberry.)
Johnny and Matty finally caught back up with us after a two day stint with Grandma Matty. They slept on our floor, which was a tight squeeze. But, might as well snuggle up on this last night with the two of them. They have decided to do a 135 mile day tomorrow. We have decided that we are doing a much better job of enjoying this trip when we take it a little easier.
Left this morning, bright and early. Rode 70 miles. So...I may be eating my salty, deliciously prepared words that, just yesterday I fed to a stranger at a feed store. The Ozarks are hard. I said it. They're hard. And their difficulty is multiplied by the heat and humidity of a tropical forest. Add to the mix zero shoulder and insane toothless hillbillies yelling, "GET OFF THE ROAD", and "HOT DOG!".
Get off the road? Get of the road?! Forget that we spent over $250 on maps that strategically take us away from heavy traffic. Forget that we are dragging our poor, sweaty, tired bodies up 13% grades in the heat on bicycles whilst you ride your fat, hot dog-fed butts in your rusted El Dorados, feeling the wind in your hair at 80 miles an hour.
What would you rather I do? Drag the bike sideways through the woods to avoid any and all cars?! Yes. You're right. I'm sorry for inconveniencing you on your way to the combination bar and canoe livery. Next time I will make sure to keep my bike as far away from the road as possible.
Entered Ellington with an angry, fierce hunger just in time to find Saso's Pizza. Previously the town's bank in 1910, now the place is filled with happy people, arcade games and tasty pizza. We totally scarfed some of their 'za. We were happy just to be in air conditioning so we settled in for a few hours. Chatted with the owners, a couple from California and their daughter. Every time we made motion to leave, we somehow got sucked back into to a conversation with them. They were just that sweet. The lady of the business had a kindly disposition and smiled so hard, so consistently, I'm not sure how she manages to see out of the millimeter slits she keeps for peepers. She fed me chocolate covered coffee beans. Her husband outfitted us with Saso's t-shirts. And we were on our merry way to a motel.
Finished the 'za in the motel room. Watched a Steve Carrel film. A good day.