6 Flats and Two Blown Tires Later

The last 48 hours may have qualified me as a bike tire mechanic. It was like changing a baby with lower GI distress. Yet the cycling is going great. I get to places on time and in good spirits. And I've been meeting some very nice folk in bike shops.

And the people I meet in general have been wonderful. Last night after I wrote about the glories of fried peanut butter, I went over to thank the fry meister and his wife. Over coffee we talked. It would be an invasion of privacy to share the content but let me just say I was moved in a variety of ways. Life is about struggle and joy and love whether you are RVing from Delaware or a rabbi cycling from Ann Arbor.

This morning Butch, who I has never seen before, took my picture and I have placed it on the blog. Later in the day he wrote me that our brief encounter was a gift. I agreed.

On a less extraordinar note, my friend Peter flew down to Daytona to join me for a few days of cycling. We met at the end of my day for fish and a beer. More good times.

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