Dispatch from America: There will be blood . . .( possum blood that is)

Well Abby and I escaped Kansas with only 1 reference to Oz thankfully! When I saw the rolling limestone hills of Missouri I had a familiar sensation from childhood. Was it that Appalachia looks similar, the amount of road kill present, or could it just be the Hardees cup along with some trash on the road? Ah the sights and smells of Dixie! Now the James Gang were from Missouri and they did all their train and bank robbing on accounts of "Dixie" after the South fell. Turns out that Missouri was not a member of the Confederate States of America, but was claimed by the CSA without any formal control or succession. Could have fooled me.

To date the bike tour is slowly approaching the East coast. What motivation we had in escaping the snowy roads of Colorado has been sucked through the soles of our feet. The daily fight against an enemy who takes no form but manipulates all that it encounters; THE WIND. A "tail wind" falls into the realm of gnomes and sprites, often talked about in the mountains but never seen. Missouri has proven to be a human powered roller coaster with short and steep hills. Between a sore knee and the lack of a shoulder to ride, the hills make our gear selection erratic and clumsy like the driver tossing Keystone empties out his window. I instantly hate riding in Missouri, worst of the 8 states thus far.

I look forward to the day I ride out of Missouri and can deliver possibly the best line when dealing a coup de grâce to my foe, Missouri. As Daniel Day Lewis so eloquently states, "I drink your milkshake, I drink it up"!