Troy to Louisiana to Quincy to Burlington

It's been a couple of days since we were able to update. From Troy we set out with the goal of seeing Hannibal. Our ride from Troy took us through Clarksville, a town which survived the floods of 2008, apparently by the skin of their teeth and a lot of help from volunteers: troops, national guard, etc. We happened upon it for lunch just as they were starting the "Clarksville Lives" festival, featuring free food, music and a sandbag throwing contest. If not for the heat and the promise of some more of Missouri's hill country to conquer, we would have stayed longer. We stayed along the river, high enough to enjoy a bird's eye view. (Read: hard riding). Our goal for that night was Louisian, MO. We had called the River's Edge motel the night before to make sure of a vacancy. We had options for going on, but the heat convinced us that the 40 or so miles that day had been enough. We'd been promised all week by the Weather Channel people that Saturday was to be the last day of heat. Checking into the River's Edge was a motel experience that we wish everyone could have. Our hosts were a wonderful couple from just outside Mumbai, India, originally. When we asked about places to eat that we could walk to, he said, "I will drop you off and pick you up, no problem." The seafood place just across the river in Illinois had been highly recommended, but the long bridge leading there was just two lanes, no shoulder, not walkable and not even very inviting on the bike. "No problem. Get cleaned up, come back and I will take you there." "Can we pay you for that?" Laughter, and then, "NO! No problem." Our host took us across the bridge in his pickup and said, "Just call when you are ready to come back." When we did that and he came back, I assured him that I've stayed at the Waldorf, and you just don't get that kind of service there. Later that evening, I walked over to the office to ask for a teabag for Bob for breakfast, since there was only coffee in the courtesy basket. He said, "How would you like me to make you Indian tea with spices in the morning?" I said I'd let the teabag-lover decide. When Bob went over later, he was persuaded to try the homemade chai, and we had a date for 6:00 a.m. At 6:00 the next day (Sunday) our host enthusiastically served up delicious chai accompanied by biscuits and cookies. Supplemented by the sandwiches we'd purchased at the convenience store across the street the night before, and the lively conversation in which we were sure we'd solved most, if not all, the world's problems, it was one of the most memorable and pleasurable breakfasts we'd ever had. We reluctantly bade our host good-bye and headed off for Hannibal, in the sweet cool air that finally had arrived with the storm during the night. Not knowing what to expect, we feared that the tributes to Mark Twain, one of our favorite writers, would be tacky and over the top. Not so. Hannibal was definitely worth the four hours we spent there, touring Mark Twain's home and other important locales in the neighborhood. All of the exhibits were done well and respectfully and we came away with the resolve to reread some of the Twain we've read and investigate the few pieces we haven't. That night led us to Quincy. The contrast in innkeepers couldn't have been greater. We rolled into the part of the town that housed the convention center and several tired competing motels. The Days Inn we chose was manned by a recent college grad, maitained by apparently tired maids and in a part of town that catered to business people and therefore pretty well closed up on Sunday. We had a meal in a very dark restaurant that had the appeal of being the only place open. Our food was good, but not worth the price we paid, and we lamented that the desk clerk didn't seem very eager to drive us to the eatery of our choice and wake us with freshly brewed and spiced chai. Ah, well. We left Quincy this morning determined to ride the 80-90 miles to Burlington, IA. We made good time, starting out early enough that the headwind didn't start until after we had finished lunch in Hamilton. We rode along the Mississippi, making decent time even with the wind when we had our second puncture of the trip. We stopped, took the back wheel off this time, patched the tube and reassembled. The tire went flat. We did it all again. The tire went flat. We called the bike shop in Burlington, knowing that we'd need some new tubes. By then it became evident that the tubes we had were defective and were splitting along the inside edge, with splits so long that the patches wouldn't hold. Just as I had my phone out to call the bike shop again to find out if there was someone there we could pay to come the 40 miles and rescue us, a Suburban pulled over. A man about our age jumped out and said, "Do you need help?" We explained what was going on and he said, "I saw your Livestrong shirt (Thanks, Deb!) and knew I had to stop." He and his son both sported wristbands. He explained that he had passed us going the other way to pick up his son from scout camp. When he saw us still there on the way back, he knew something must be wrong. After about 10 minutes of rearranging seats, luggage from scout camp, our luggage and bike, we were bundled into the SUV and on the way to his house to see if we could repair it better with his tools. He lived in Fort Madison, across the river in Iowa and on one of our possible routes to Burlington. He pulled out all his tools, patches, air compressor, etc. but nothing would hold these tubes. "Okay," he said, "That's it. Let's pile in and go to the bike shop." A 40-mile round trip for him. I offered to pay for gas, but he would have none of it. Shuttling us around was a great way to avoid studying for his RN boards which were coming up soon. We arrived at the bike shop in about 15 minutes, purchased our tubes, had the bike together and I reiterated the offer to pay for gas. When he refused again, I said, "At least let us make a donation to your favorite charity. What would that be?" He pointed to his yellow wristband and said, "How about these guys?" So Lance will have some more money to aid in the fight for cancer courtesy of Jeff Engle, good samaritan and surely one of the best RN's Iowa will have. So here we are in Burlington, our goal reached by pedalling only about half of what we needed to and we are once again shaking our heads in awe of how many good people there are. To all our friends who've already done this: Incredible how great people are. To those who haven't: truly, even with all the bad news we hear, when you get deep into the middle of things, humans have it going on! Tomorrow's goal: Galesburg, IL. We'll be making our way across Illinois and joining the Northern Tier AC route in a couple of days. And loving how fun it is to meet people along the way.