Murrs Across America

The lady at Hardees thought we were nuts. And she told all her customers that too. But she let us fill up our water bottles with ice, and that was nice.

We biked in hills and wind over many dead snakes and dead butterflies. We were so tired that we all stopped for a Sunday afternoon nap under a tree. We have a speaker that plays music from Stuart’s phone and I remember drifting off under a cloud like a wave to the tune “Skylark”. Brady slept in the Burly, Jane and I on the shark towel that I brought at Brady’s behest and on the advice of Douglas Adams, and Stuart just slept on the hydration pack on his back and our stuff sack of pillows. (He’s hard core).

When we made it to Florida Caverns State Park, a kindly ranger warned us against pedaling two miles uphill on a bad road. We would have tried it without his advice: warm showers were at the end of that road! Instead we opted for the more accessible youth camp area with cold showers. We did have the campground to ourselves, so the kids stripped down and played in the hose and I made a yummy stir-fry that we had to march around to eat because we were attacked by swarms of bugs. The showers were cold, the bugs were intolerable, the ants were ruthless, but the bat and firefly show was fantastic. Also, we all slept very, very poorly.