One century and seven miles ago, we left the comfort of maple syrup and sausages marinated in hotel lobby muzak to file down the blackened finger of HWY 87. Well-timed stops at friendly local watering holes adorned with tasteful taxidermy had us busting down the road like Richard Petty. Flat ground and tailwinds didn’t hurt either, but our highest mileage day was ultimately a credit to our increasingly powerful hearts and minds. Most of the day was on the road but the laughs and mood were lifted like a Montana Chevy’s tires.
Today we’ll attempt to repeat the feat with 99 solid miles… After second breakfast 