Once again it was raining when we woke up, but by the time we got ourselves organized the rain had stopped and we could see on Weatherbug's radar that we were sandwiched by two areas of rain to our north and south, both moving east. So we rode up to the center of town to breakfast at a cafe where we learned not only that our motel is notoriously bad (no news, with hot water only on request, a broken window, and a lamp which shocked you when you touched it anywhere) but that the Methodist church in town puts up cyclists. I don't know how we didn't get the word.
When we left breakfast it was still cloudy but the roads had mostly dried off, and we were in for a pleasant surprise: a few miles out of Marion the sharp hills we've grown accustomed to gave way to nearly flat farmland, with only a few hills worthy of the name for the 45 miles to the town of Sebree. And the sun finally made an appearance. It made for easy riding; not perfect, because of the heat and post-rain humidity, but pleasant nonetheless. The distance was short and we'd started relatively early, so we dragged our feet, taking a long refreshment break at a little town halfway.
The Baptist church at Sebree has hostel accommodations for cross-country cyclists, so after lunch we headed there. We were welcomed by the pastor, Bob Hardison, who showed us to their youth community building, with showers, comfortable sofas, a small separate room where we could set up mattresses for ourselves for sleeping, and even access to a washer and dryer. Two hours later another couple arrived, Peter and Marie-Christine Glancy, from Scotland, she via Belgium. They are just a little younger than we are, but are recently married. When he proposed, she said yes but she wanted to cycle across the U.S. So they flew to Seattle, bought a car and a bike, and set out; she riding and he driving.
Bob told us that there was a two day bluegrass festival winding up that evening at Henderson, about 20 miles away, and all four of us were happy to accept his offer to take us. He also said he and his wife Violet had received some leftover grilled chicken from a local event, and invited us to share that with them before going. What a setup: the leftover chicken was only the beginning. Violet had prepared a large and delicious home-cooked feast, including cornbread and several vegetables.
Violet declined to join us on the outing to the bluegrass festival. Sandy and I felt guilty when we both realized later that since their car only seats five passengers, her excuse for not going was generous but bogus.
The festival was at the large town of Henderson, at a park on the Ohio River. The park was on the site of a mill built by John James Audobon in 1810 To his disappointment the mill was a business failure. A good thing, or we might never have had his paintings to enjoy. We like bluegrass, moderately, but in this case the music was terrific. We were there for four bands in succession, all different, and all excellent professional musicians. We enjoyed ourselves immensely and got back to the church after midnight, too late to write up the blog; I'm writing Sunday afternoon.
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