Riding my bike too much is making me dumb

Seriously. And even less coordinated than I was before.

Tuesday, 30 September: I was miserable and hating life all day. I made it to Maryland, and the hills got smaller, but the headwind got stronger and the shoulders virtually disappeared in the afternoon. I called and cried to Newscat, whose house I am headed toward, but she was unable to rescue me today. She promised to rescue me tomorrow, however, so I would not have to deal with actually riding into the city, so that lifted my mood considerably.

I headed to the next town and inquired about camping, since I was no longer concerned with making it to my intended ending point, which I was totally not going to reach anyway. Someone at the grocery store suggested an empty field that he doubted I would get rousted from. I didn't quite find it, but I found a smallish field or park looking area that I thought I might be able to hide in, although it was pretty close to a house, so I wasn't sure. Then I noticed the people from the house were eating in their backyard, so I (stupidly) wandered in and tried to explain myself. They were (rightly) freaked out by my presence, but they settled down after a few minutes, and even gave me some dinner. The woman remarked that she was reminded of how her mother used to feed hobos. I joked that I had been near a lot of train tracks on this trip. After dinner and some chatting, I started setting up my tent in their backyard just as some thunder rolled in. I finished and hopped inside just as the sky opened up and dumped. It was a pretty terrific storm, quite electrically active. At one point I heard a siren and thought it might be a tornado warning siren (or maybe hurricane?) but I am still on solid ground inside my tent, so I guess things will be okay.