A short night of sleep to awake to eggs is still a wonderful thing. Jeremy and I call a few bike shops trying to figure out when they open up. We head to Ike’s Bikes, a quaint shop with whom I had dealings with in the form of a very rude worker the day before, turns out to be where we head. A short drive into Richmond we are in the crowded shop greated warmly and told they might have what we need. After some discussion we find the right rim and as I am deciding what debit card I can pay with Jeremy goes and continues his kind works by paying for this rim from his Church’s card. Another kind gesture. At this point I am off and running. Some borrowed money from my parents(to pay off the bank debt) and a couple proein bars and I’m off and running. West on I-40, stopped at a garage sale. Not much for me there but a really kind old gentleman. Then the google maps directions tell me to head north on to county roads. one is a gravel road, a slow going gravel road. I find a guy on a moped and ask where 40 is. find it and head back to that straight shot to indy, and boy am I glad I did. It was hot and humid, the kind of hot and humid that means rain is coming. and soon it did. I waited out a small storm in one town and when it cleared up decided to make a break 4 miles west to Dunreith. I took a nap on a bench as the storm came in and after awaking decided to wait it out in the antique store across the street. it looked open, i think? no lights, but two open signs out. I knocked. no answer, open the door, an alarm went off, i walked out now waiting for the police to come cause i just broke in. but the only person that came was an octegenarian named Jerry, just shuffling up the narrow path between antiques. He was about 5′2″, bushy hair(where he had it) and smoked a pipe. We talked about the instruments he had in his shop, he showed me a WWI mandolin, beautiful thing. It was a pleasant couple hours filled with much smoking on their part, some really dirty water and two bombs being dropped. the first, Jerry helped write the first three episodes of M*A*S*H, slightly confirmed by facts he told me, I believe him. The second was a horrible racist story about integration. After the storm ended I started off, running a bit late and high tailed to the Hostel at the breakneck speeds of 15 mph!
Tags: bike tour, Chris Bell, Christopher Bell, Indianapolis, M*A*S*H, mandolin