Day 6 Saturday Sept. 20, 2008

Had a little breakfast at Super 8 in Lincoln. Before going to bed I had written down the instructions on how to get out of Lincoln and be on my way to Beatrice. I left, saying good-by to Pam at 7:10 am. The red spinning ball of the sun was behind me as I peddled south on Cornhusker Ave. to reconnect with Hwy 77 South. I was quite sure I knew the route because I had memorized it! It became apparent that I had memorized a set of directions that were quite old, or at least were no longer applicable. I was too far east\. I went to a gas station where I met DESTINY and a gentleman wearing a straw hat with the name, Brimstone on it. They were studying together, a numbers board between them, scratching out numbers. “It’s too early to gamble! You’ve got to wait until 10:00 o’clock.” They both looked at me and laughed. I had broken the ice. I asked for instructions to Hwy 77 South. “Brimstone” pointed me 6 blocks away. Then I asked for a lucky Powerball ticket and they laughed again. I bought it and I lost it somewhere along the way, so perhaps it was lucky for someone else.

The terrain outside Lincoln is quite undulating. Driving a vehicle, I suppose those numerous, pretty hills and valleys are quite unobservable, but try riding a bicycle. Regardless of how much I worked at quickening the miles, they lingered and were quite unmoved by my ambitious activity. Even a prayer to St. Martin de Porres seemed to dispel my hopes, but I soon realized St. Martin was not a native of Nebraska, so I resorted to my usual litany.

The ride is pleasant when thoughts of good friends are utmost in my mind. People who have your back and send you such warm energy. Finally at 11:20am I arrived at Beatrice. Pam and I connected and broke to have a quick lunch. We found a very charming Mexican restaurant, “Playa Azul”.

It was too early to stop riding, but the rest of Hwy 77 had no shoulders. Once again I erred on the side of safety. Saturday should not be such a busy day, but there was a lot of traffic, so we made a choice to drive to Marysville in Kansas. Pam called ahead and found us a room, so we bedded for the night.

At Cortland , a 68 year old road cyclist met up with me as I labored on one of theos many unseen inclines. The road was under repair for several miles which is not at all unusual. We stopped to have coffee. He had planned a 59-mile ride and came south first so that the ride back home he would get an assist from the 6 ½ mph wind. I gave him my card and he gave me $12 in support of my cause.