Last night we biked from our drop off point on Spearfish to the lovely home o TJ and Charlie, motorcycling friends we met at a campground in ND. We stopped at a cafe on the way and proved we still eat like cyclists, even on days where we get a ride.
After eating, Molly took a nap on the table. Then we biked up a long hill in thick fog to get to what turns out to be the hilliest town of all time. After the endless flat prairie, I actually enjoyed the hills a bit. Molly disagrees.
But both of us can get behind great food, warm showers, and a comfy bed. Turns out TJ is from the same small Wisconsin town my dad is from, and she bakes like a true Midwesterner. She also says great sayings, like “hotter than the hinges of hell.”
Now we’re off to Mount Rushmore!
Oh also, this was on our bed: