Falls of Rough, Kentucky to Utica, Kentucky
I saw this quote on Facebook from Erik Skarr who is going to run a Marathon today:
"... We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing suffering produces endurance, and endurance character, and character hope." Romans 5:3-4
Good quote to keep in mind for this trip.
Setting out. We expect it to rain about 1pm. Saw these posters about burning trash here at the Lodge and it reminded me that after I had filled up my water bottles with the plastic bottles Grandmother Corrine told one of the family members not to put the empty plastic bottles in the trash. "I won't fill up the landfills with them," she explained, "I burn them."
At population 528 this town sports a little diner with a great dessert selection and nostalgic posters and black and white Formica floors.
Omelet, my first in more than three weeks, was excellent. The eggs were muddled, partially mixed, just as I love them.
Nancy, the cook, was surprised I rarely see them cooked that way.
We are also running into Meth country as well, an unpleasant reminder of the obvious - rural America has its challenges as well.
And we are reminded why Trump easily carried Kentucky:
45 miles today. So it's an early day as we rest about the Utica Volunteer Fire Department. There's a Wedding Shower in the Hallway so we are hanging out in front, in folding chairs, or lying in the grass as I am.
We're doing laundry and using the shower so a nap is pretty nigh inevitable.
A man and his seat.
It has all the hallmarks of an abusive relationship. Everything on the seat is a lie. Gel. Affinity Zone. Comfort. The first time I got on it I thought, it will take a while to break it in. That was hubris.
It's breaking me in.
It's embarrassingly mind numbing all the creams, lubricants, and "butters" that are used to make this relationship between one's behind and the seat work. Most of them have names that might as well be for sex. DZ Nuts. Body Glide. Bum Butter (Tested on Assholes not Animals). Gooch Guard.
The amazing thing is that the seat height and angle can make all the difference. But the seat wins every time.
After two weeks, it got to be more painful to get off the seat. So hard to leave an abusive relationship.
Still it's just me and the seat and three thousand more miles to go.
One gentleman came over and invited us to the Memorial Day Service. Norm, Tom, Christine, and I walked up to the Baptist Cemetery to attend the services. It was a little note of small town Americana that is getting sung today and tomorrow at all of the little towns and cities across America.