Calories draped about us like Chewbacca’s bandolier and dusted with potato chip seasoning like ash from Mount Saint Helens, we pushed out from Super 8 and headed for the rising sun.
We ducked the midday heat in Waitsburg, inhaling sandwiches within the brick-clad splendor of a once bustling small town, then cruised through the playground water park before crushing the rest of our 65 miles to Pomeroy.
After purchasing groceries, we were given rides on a recumbent bicycle then approached by locals to join a neighborhood potluck and fireworks feast!
We sat on quilts as a garden of light blossomed above us, filling the air with delicate notes of phosphorus and good old American splendor. The British member of our group was gently tapped by a falling firework (no harm done!) and then we lit sparklers. It’s hard to ask for more after a day of cycling — a night etched in our minds like lights in the sky.
