Another goofy, typical day.

From a planning perspective, the only possible problem was finding breakfast in the town of Lowden. There would be no services for 33 miles, so having a good breakfast would make the day go better.

The innkeeper last night indicated that the bar served breakfast, but they were not open. I looked in the book she put together about the area, and, sure enough, there was the Cozy Cafe a block down the street. Walking to the cafe, at 7 AM, it was already warming up. The bank sign had the temperature at 77 degrees already. The humidity was high because of yesterday's rain. Ah, here is the cafe!

It is permanently closed . But wait, I see between some buildings across the street, what looks like a convenience store on the next block. That must be what the innkeeper was referring to. So I saddled up my steed, and rode to the store.

This isn't a store! It is a fuel depot. Ah, but there is a gas station/convenience store down by the next corner. It was permanently closed. Ah, there is a cafe next door! Closed. 

I had a Danish pastry and a banana to get me 33 miles. I ate the pastry and held the banana in reserve.

The comments on the map said that the terrain got flatter as one approached Muscatine. I was looking forward to a fast ride, on relatively flat roads, getting to Muscatine by lunch time. So far it was not flatter, and I was encountering a pretty good headwind, 10 to 20 mph. Up and down hills, trying to stay consistent in pedalling cadence, regardless of the bike speed. I had reported two days ago that yesterday was going to be hot. Wrong. Yesterday was rainy. Today would be the hot one, and it was feeling like it.

Already I was pondering the potential need to knock on someone's door, asking to replenish my water bottle. I try not to ration out the water I have, but drink it as I go, reaching my destination having emptied the water bottle, regardless of how many times I had replenished it.

The next town, Bennett, was large enough to have a post office and school, but no place for food. Wait a minute! What is that ahead? It is convenience store! That wasn't on my map! I ate breakfast, refilled my water bottle, and took off. Isn't it funny how things work out?  Thank you, Lord.

Pedalling was slow but steady. Lots and lots of perspiration. At last, a sign announcing Muscatine. It was noon. It took 4 hours and 15 minutes to go 38 miles, including stops. My clothing, which was soaked yesterday from the rain, then dry this morning, was soaked again.

This stop was to accomplish several things: Get the bicycle tuned up; Rest, rest rest. I have to admit that the legs were weaker than normal today. They felt, at 38 miles, how they typically feel at 65-70 miles. A day of rest is needed.

Tonight we are expecting severe thunderstorms, and also tomorrow night. Hopefully there will be enough calm weather for me to get a haircut.

I had mentioned the other day that the brakes were failing. Yesterday, it took me over 150 feet to come to a stop when I had been going 20 mph. So imagine how good I feel now with new brake pads. It can stop on a dime.

One last thing for today, I am officially over the half way point, mileage-wise and day-wise. This is the 42nd day since leaving, and I estimated a 82 day trip, more or less. And the odometer passed 2,300 miles, of an estimated 4,500 miles (I would be pleased if it were less.)

No riding tomorrow, but I will give an update on a few items.

God bless you. 

 

Hallalujah! Rain!
Okay, it was the farmers rejoicing. They got a wonderful rain for their crops today. Bicyclers, however, were not rejoicing.

The reality is that it will rain quite a bit during a trip like this. I have been extraordinarily fortunate to have dealt with very little rain (while biking) this trip.

My weather app predicted 20% chance of rain today, so I put on plenty of sunblock before taking off for the day. Last night, I researched churches in towns which I was to be passing through, to see if I could attend a service on the fly. Sure enough, there was a 10 AM service in a town called Cascade. It was about 18 miles away. I left around 7:45 AM.

Everything went well until I got to the next town, and couldn't find the highway I wanted to be on. Asking for directions, I learned two things, neither of them good. First of all, my road would be unpaved for 8 miles. Secondly, rain and lightning were expected by noon.

So I set out on the gravel road. It was slippery and slow. So slow, that it became obvious that I would not be on time at the church service. Finally, I arrived in Cascade, and came to a stop sign. One block up was the church, with a full parking lot.

I decided to attend. It was a start up congregation, but there was a lot of vitality in the service. A guest pastor delivered the sermon, and I took lots of notes. The problem is that this sermon did not seem to have an end. Finally, at 11:30, after listening for 45 minutes, with no end in sight, I left.

Across the street was a cafe, and I needed fuel. 30 minutes later, I was finished, put on my rain pants and jacket, and took off.

The rain started out lightly, then got progressively harder until it was raining hard. It is not hard to ride in rain, but the harder rain kept obscuring my vision as it coated the lenses of my glasses.

Unfortunately, there were still hill after hill, most of them not daunting, but tiring nonetheless.

Finally, with 11 miles to go, I faced another road closure. The bridge was out. What now? I headed into town to find someone local who might help. A small bar offered several helpful locals. They came up with a "work around", but it meant several miles of gravel roads. I explained that I rode 8 miles of gravel roads this morning, but they felt these would be very loose gravel and dangerous, with heavy traffic as locals used this route. I decided to try it.

The rain had packed the dirt and the traffic packed the gravel, so this road was much, much easier than the morning's unpaved portion. Before long, I was on the home stretch of paved road and pulled into my destination, Lowden, Iowa. I was absolutely, completely soaked. I hope the clothes are dry in the morning.

Tomorrow will be my last day of riding in Iowa. I have an appointment to get the bike worked on. My clothing is desperately in need of cleaning, and I need a haircut. A day of rest will follow. My start east will re-commence on Wednesday morning.

May the Lord be with you.

Map reading 101

Were I taking a class on Map Reading, I would be taking remedial classes in summer school. Today was to be a pleasant, short ride to a town called Dyresville. Despite no urgency, I was still on the road by 8 AM.

I had looked at the map, and today's ride was simple. Just stay on Hwy 13 until I get past Elkport. So I could relax, enjoy the scenery, and not be concerned with directions until later. This area is very hilly, with a number of long, steep climbs. After an hour and a half, it was time for a break. Elkport must not be too much further.

Breaks are when I check the map, see what the next towns are, check mileages, figure out where to have lunch, etc. In perusing the map, I discovered that the highway going through Elkport was not Hwy 13. I was supposed to turn off of 13 a long ways back. So much for my map reading skills. The thought of going back and re-climbing all those hills was not appealing, but might be necessary. Even though I was way out in the country, there was a farm implement repair shop across from where I was resting. What were the chances it would be open?

It wasn't. But an employee was there working, so I asked him to look at my map, and advise me as to whether I should turn around, or forge ahead, finding a new route. I could see from his expression that neither choice #1 or choice #2 were good ones. Clearly I was way past where I should have turned.

I tried to make him think like a bicycler (only with a good sense of direction) and that settled his mind as to his recommendation. He urged me to go further on Hwy 13. There was another big hill ahead, but once past it, the topography became more level (perhaps less hilly would be a better description). When a non-bicycler thinks that hills are long and steep, you can bet they are. The thought of having me go back over those hills again helped him come up with Plan B.

It started with going to the next town, Strawberry Point, then turning this way then that way, etc. There were going to be more miles than I originally scheduled, but probably no more than if I turned around. I decided to go to Strawberry Point, then get directions from there. It was 7 miles down the road.

What a cool town! With a population of 1,500, it had a vitality about it. One fellow I talked with said it hasn't changed much in 40 years, and I think that added to its charm. I asked a man for directions, and his reply ,actually made them sound simple. Perhaps my reputation had preceded me, so he was trying to talk down to my level. But the directions were: Go straight on 13, turn left on Hwy 20. It goes right into Dyresville. Mileage was 37 or 38 miles.

Outside the grocery store, a man was cooking hamburgers, hot dogs and brauts on a grill. I bought a braut. On the other side of the door was a little boy selling lemonade for 50 cents a glass. I bought two.

The next town, Manchester, was even more bustling because of a larger population base. At lunch, I got advice on following old Hwy 20 instead of the new (read that as busy) Hwy 20. On the way out of town, I saw an old movie theater featuring "Finding Dory". Every town prior to this had converted their theater into something else.

Finally, Dyresville, 12 more miles than I had scheduled. Its Catholic Church has a Basillica, built 125 years ago, with a seat for the Pope when he visits. It is the only one in Iowa. The Pope has not got the message of its existence yet, but the church is ready when he does. It is quite an edifice. I went inside, but there was a wedding going on, and me without my tie.☺ I left.

During the day, my curiosity got the best of me. The corn was so tall that I thought it had to be 5-6 feet tall. I parked the bike, walked into a cornfield to see how it measured up to my 6'3" frame. It was way taller. At least 7 feet.

We are two days away from the turning point east. It is called Muscatine, and I will take a day of rest when I get there. Tomorrow, the temperature will rise over 90 degrees again. An early departure would be helpful. Instead of attending church, I will listen to the recorded sermon from North Creek Presbyterian.

Just how lost can you get?

It should be an easy ride today, so a little later departure time shouldn't hurt.

Listening, while packing, to the tragic ambush on the Dallas policemen. I don't understand all of the black Americans getting killed, but I do know this: the great majority of police are good people. Sometimes we forget what life would be like without them. I experienced that when I worked a gas station/lodge in northern British Columbia. The nearest Mounties were 135 miles to the north and 196 miles to the south. We were the only place in a 73 mile stretch. Suddenly, I was responsible for helping to protect the people and property there. We only had to show weapons once, but I completely changed my attitude towards police power. We have to have it to maintain safe and stable communities. Clearly, there is a spate of over-reacting officers, but let us not throw the baby out with the bath water.

 Stopped in a bakery downtown. Where else can you get a large bowl of oatmeal, side order of toast, and a large glass of orange juice for $5.25?

The ride along the river was wonderful. For the first time I saw a long barge, pushed by a tug. At some point the road needed to go through some hills, and the road started to climb. Overall the area near the river had rolling hills, so travel was scenic but not fast.

Then the event which changed the day happened. A bridge on my route  was out.  I followed the detour, hoping it was a short one. That ended up not being the case. I was being directed inland straight into the hills that I could see from the river.

The bicycling maps are very good as long as one stays on the route, but the roads around the route are not well identified.

Not having a clue where I was, or where this detour was taking me, I finally spotted a couple of farmers near the road. They were very helpful, and gave me directions which would get me back onto my  original route. They asked "Do you want short but steeper , or longer but less steep?"  I chose the longer route.

The farms looked healthy and prosperous. If corn is supposed to be knee high by the fourth of July, then the Iowa farmers are ahead of the game. Their corn is 5-6 feet high.

My hope was to get to a tiny town called Waterville, and have lunch. The bar was quaint with most of the walls covered with adages, signed dollar bills, stuffed animal heads, and plaques from pool tournments. I stepped onto the deck out back and the owner was cooking my hamburger on a charcoal grill. It was delicious. I cannot help but ponder where the residents work and play. The town seemed quiet for having two bars.

 The bicycle is starting to show sign of needing a "tune up". In particular, it is not shifting well, and the brakes are on their last legs. I have gotten by with soft brakes for awhile, but I have to admit that when I came to a descent, with warning signs indicating a 9% grade, I stopped to think up a strategy. To put 9% in perspective, Stevens Pass was a 5 % grade. The Orondo Grade was 6%. Some parts of the North Cascades Highway were 7%, but rarely have I had to deal with a 9% grade. At least, I was going down, not up, but I was envisioning the possibility of gathering too much speed, more than the brakes could affect, then losing control of the bike at high speed. I gently started down, brakes engaged until I could see where the curving road went. Once I saw it was okay, then I released the brakes and let momentum take over.

The point that of that story is that in two and one half days, I will be in a big enough town that it can sustain a bike shop. I already have made arrangements to have them address my concerns. Since my bike has disc brakes, I had difficulty 8 years ago finding a bike shop that carried the parts. This time I brought spare disc brake parts with me. 

Compared to Minnesota, the roads in Iowa have not been near as bicycle-friendly. Even busy roads lack proper shoulders for bicyclers. The drivers have been courteous, but I left the road into the gravel a number of times, just to allow vehicles room to pass.

After 53 miles, I reached a B&B near Elkader, my destination for the night.

May the peace of the Lord be with you. 

I 'm due for some rain. Hello Iowa.

Checking my weather app on my phone last night, there might be a possibility of rain today. It is amazing how little rain I have ridden in since leaving Everett.

Around 4 AM, I awoke to a roaring sound. Hmm, what is it? It could be a ton of traffic on the highway, but that seems unlikely. Could it be rain? Likely. Willing myself out of bed, I opened the door, and it was raining hard. No wonder it was so loud.

It is hard to get back to sleep, then hard to get going once I got up. Another look outside, and it was a steady rain. I hate starting the day in the rain. If it rains once I have started pedalling, that is different to me. Well, on to devotions then breakfast.

Before eating breakfast, I decided to get ready to go with rain jacket and pants on. Everything going got packed, and I opened the door to go next door to eat. The rain had stopped, at least for the moment. My weather app had changed its hourly forecast to a likelihood of rain all day. I left with my rain jacket on but open. 

The change in terrain in Minnesota was striking. When I first entered the state it was flat as a pool table. As I approached the greater Minneapolis area, it started getting hilly. On either side of the Mississippi River the highway paralleling the river was relatively flat, but the west side of the highway were heavily wooded hills, one after the other. It reminded me of Tennessee or North Carolina.

The River did not look so pristine today. Between the clouds and the light wind, the water looked dark and potentially menacing. I kept waiting for the rain to re-commence, taking off my rain coat while on a break. Walking outside of a cafe, after lunch, the sun was out and the skies were blue. I went back inside to apply sun screen. 

The  River started looking more pleasant, with tons of islands and channels, great habitat for fish and wildlife.  Going through one small town, I was a little uncertain on how to get through. The only recognizable road was the Interstate, which is verboten to bicycles. Finally I found what I was looking for, a new bike path that bypassed the Interstate. The only problem was the "Trail closed" sign blocking the entrance. My options were so limited that I squeezed the bike around the blockade, and rode on. At the end of the trail, a couple of miles down the road, I discovered the problem: there was a big road work project which narrowed the southbound road to a narrow lane. For me to get on it was to slow everyone behind me down to 10 mph, but what else could I do? The lane lasted for 1/2 mile, a long three minutes with a line of cars backing up behind. But soon it was back to normal.

I entered Iowa a couple of hours after lunch.

The town I am staying in is Lansing, IA, and it is really a neat little town. Busy, funky shops and restaurants. They won me over immediately by having an ice cream store when you first enter town. After a rain, the humidity soars when the sun comes out. It is only 82 degrees but feels like it is in the nineties.

Had a nice faith talk with a local man who was working in the yard. Having been a Christian his whole life, I am sure I could have learned from him.

Four more days of riding in Iowa, then I bust out to the east again.

Blessings. 

Can every day be like this?

Things can change quickly. This morning, when I opened the door to greet the dsy, there was little sign that last night's severe thunderstorms even happened. 

Straying from the recommended bicycle route on my map, I opted to stay on Hwy 61. It was a four lane divided highway, with wide shoulders, and it was close to the Mississippi River, following every turn. So much of it was relatively flat. 

With a distance of around 65 miles, and a beautiful sunny day, leaving at 8 AM allowed me to take my time. The Mississippi River was absolutely pristine looking. I normally picture the Mississippi when the river goes through St. Louis, which looks dirty brown, but this, from a distance looked blue. In fact, in one stretch, the river is so placid, they call it a lake. It really was gorgeous. 

There was one area of road, a mile or two long, which had sustained a lot of downed trees and branches. The car lanes seemed to be clear, but the shoulder was full of debris. Later I learned that this was where one of three tornados landed yesterday. They were all Catagory one tornados, but can still make a mess.

For the next five days, I will be following the Mississippi River south until I get to a town in Iowa called Muscatine. From there, I will start east again, continuing east until I get just north of Philadelphia. From that point I will head south until I reach Raleigh.

A note to my Washingtonian friends about tornados: Certainly tornados can be devastating, but I spent the first 20 years of my life living with tornado  warnings and alerts, and I like most people in the Midwest, never got close to one. So when severe weather is forecast, I will continue bicycling unless something happens which calls for getting off the road. 

I may be the one making the choices and decisions, but there is Someone far greater than I who is in charge.  

Checked in to a motel in Winona, MN by 3 PM. See what a difference it makes to leave early, have good weather, have decent terrain and a lightened load.

Blessings to you all. 

That was close!

Today looked like it would be challenging. The humidity suddenly spiked, temperatures would be approaching 90 degrees, there would be a modest headwind, there were severe  thunderstorms warnings for the evening, and I would be getting a late start.

My host, Jack Ingersoll, lives in a retirement community, and I had been asked to speak to interested residents about this trip. The talk went well, but I was not on the road until 11 AM.

During my stay at Jack's, I had pared down my load from four panniers to two. In fact, it was the two smaller panniers which went over the rear wheel. Soon after I left Jack, I was questioning the wisdom of having all the weight over the rear drive tire. So part way through the city, I called Jack to see if he could meet me with the other two panniers which hung in the middle of the bike, thus sharing the weight between tires. Upon meeting, i would swap gear to the new panniers. Jack and I agreed to meet on Hwy 77 South, which is the route we had selected to get out of town. It was one of three routes that had a bridge over the Minnesota River, but the only route which would allow bicycles. 

I missed a turn going through town, resulting in entering Hwy 77 on a different on ramp than Jack and I had checked out two days earlier. This on ramp had a sign that said "No pedestrians. No bicycles." Oh no! Now what? Since Jack was going to be looking for me on Hwy 77, I decided to go onto the forbidden highway until Jack caught up with me, switch panniers, cross the bridge, then exit the highway.

Almost immediately upon getting onto the highway, Jack pulled up behind. The transfer took place. I rode on, crossing the river, and onto the arms of a waiting policeman. He agreed to allow me to continue to the next exit, and decided not to issue a citation.

This was not a good day of riding. The miles seemed creep by. There were stretches of hills upon hills. Time seemed to be running out, but around 6:30PM, I entered the city of my destination, Red Wing. Red Wing is a fair sized town, and is well known for its shoe factories. 

Since my motel was on the far side of town, I had to decide whether to grab a quick bite to eat in one of the many fast food restaurants I was passing, or whether to get to the motel first, then see if there were any restaurants nearby.

The darkening clouds, thunder and lightning made me decide that shelter in my motel room was the priority, so I put on my rain jacket, and continued pedalling. If there were no places to eat, I would wait until morning.

Around 7:15 PM, 69 miles after leaving this morning, I arrived at my motel. I checked in, and got my gear into my room, including the bike. In less than one minute after getting inside, the heavens opened up with a downpour and wind like you wouldn't believe! Had I stopped to eat, I would be out in that mess. Just to the east,tornados were sighted.

Do you think that it was a coincidence that I got into my room seconds before all hell broke loose? I don't. Thank you Lord for your protection. 

Did you know that Domino's Pizza delivers, even in inclement weather? 

Happy Fourth of July!

Today,  our country is celebrating our Independence Day. For me, the celebratory nature  of today seems so removed from the reality of what I am going through.

With a big push tomorrow, I need to be completely ready today. As a result, I have gone through every single item that I have carried, and that Karen sent, and have pared it down.

I started out with four panniers, two large, and two medium sized. Ideally, I would be able to to reduce the gear, and get the remaining equipment into the medium sized panniers. Next the choice of tossing the tent and air mattress, or not? I decided to keep them. However the air mattress was in a special container attached to one of the large panniers. I would need to get a waterproof sack, and, lo and behold, there is an REI within 5 miles of Jack's apartment. 

The sack was a bit large, so large, in fact, that it gave me an idea. I removed the waterproof sack from the tent, and it fit perfectly into the sack with the air mattress!

Now, there are two issues coming up. The first is tomorow's ride. Since I was asked to speak to residents at 10 AM, my start will be late in the morning. Humidity is shooting up, temperatures expected to rise to 89 degrees, a 10 mph headwind, and a reasonable chance of rain and thunderstorms.  

Secondly, as I went through my itinerary again, I discovered that I had omitted a stop in Winona, Minnesota. Therefore, all my motel reservations were a day off, and, already, in getting back to them, at least one has no vacancies on the next date. Sigh.

Well, Lord, what do you have for me this week? As always, I will find out soon enough.

Have a wonderful 4th of July. 

Sometimes simpler is better.

Sometimes simpler is better. Last night, I was wondering how to get into the trail network, and which ones to get me in to Bloomington. Jack lives in the northwest corner of Bloomington. When he and I were talking on the phone, it dawned on me, while looking at the blown up map of the greater Minneapolis area, that my motel was a bit north and west of Minneapolis. Jack's apartment is a bit south and west of Minneapolis. So if I just went due south, on streets, I would come out near him, and would bypass Minneapolis altogether.

Going into Mapquest, the obvious route was also the busiest and riskiest route. When I filtered Mapquest for a bicycle route, it looked pretty safe and simple. I printed out a copy of the directions.

After 8 hours of sleep, I arose at 5:30 AM, and got ready for the day, leaving the motel at 7:30 AM.  One advantage to riding early on a Saturday morning, is that traffic will tend to be lighter than normal.

My strategy was to study the next several streets, their turns and distances, then pull over to study the next three streets once I did the first three. This worked great! For a while.

Whether it was road closures and detours, or just my ineptness, I finally decided I was off  the route. Reaching back for the route print-out, I discovered it was no longer there. Oops. Jack said "If all else fails, just head south. When you get to I-494,  cross over it and head west." So that is exactly what I did. Sort of.

At one point I was riding around a park, only to find another road closure, with no detour. Since I am not a car, I rodecided onto a paved path through the park to the other side of it. With the morning sun to my back, I knew I needed to turn left, to head south again. The next street looked like a likely candidate. Lo and behold, I recognized the name! It was a street I was supposed to eventually be on. I was excited until the road curved and winded, seemingly with no purpose. Yet when it finally came to a tee, I recognized the cross street. And right in front of me was I-494. Within 10 minutes I was at Jack's complex. 

If you have been following this journal, you will know that I do not believe that finding myself back on the route was an accident or coincidence. I had ridden 2 miles after getting lost, and finding the route was Providential.

Poor Jack. He has a nice one bedroom apartment, but it doesn't look so nice with all my stuff here. Karen had sent, in advance, a box of summer clothing. Then I will ship back home a  box of winter clothing, including my sleeping bag. I am trying to figure out if I can pare down from four panniers to two of them. Hmm, can I get rid of the tent and air mattress? My stuff is scattered all over poor Jack's living room. But not for long.

I will be leaving the day after the 4th of July. In the morning, I was asked to give a talk to anyone living here who is interested in this trip. If no one shows up, then I will leave early.

My itinerary has me heading south for 6 days, then turning east again. Watch out Indy, here I come! 

 

Where will I stay tonight?

All the maps and directions one receives may prove meaningless once one is on the road. Studying a detailed Minnesota map at last night's motel, gave me confidence in David's little hand-drawn map. I found the small road which bridged the Mississippi River, and the other roads leading into Minneapolis. I was reasonably confident that I could fo.low the route that David sketched out. Getting onto the bike trails system was a different issue, but I would be in a motel before I ventured onto it. That would be tomorrow's issue.

A quick check on my smart phone had the distance between St. Cloud, where I was staying, and Bloomington, my destination, was 75 miles. By bicycle, it is always considerably longer, but I figured it at 100 miles. If I rode 50 to 60 miles today, I should be in good shape tomorrow.

The temperatures were about 10 degrees below normal, with today's high to be 75. I left the motel close to 8 AM, but it was after 10:30 AM before I took off my windbreaker. Not too long after starting, i came to a Rest Area, which offered free, detailed maps of  the stae, so I took one. Little did I know all the use it would get today. Stopping for lunch, I asked several people where the bridge was, and the second person gave me good diections. At least they would have been if I had followed them. Or maybe they dtill were good in spite of my ineptitude. I made a right turn instead of a left turn but discovered the error within 1/2 mile.

My friend yesterday, David, said there were lots of restaurants and motels. I discovered the first of those to be true.

Do you remember the scene from the movie called "The Jerk", starring Steve Martin? He was leaving home and stuck out his thumb to hitchhike.  A car picked him up and delivered him to the end of the fence, 60 feet away. I was reminded of that when I discovered the Mississippi River Trail. I rode down a winding asphalt pathway to the trail. Within 50 feet, it started angling back up to the street. Apparently, I had entered it 50 feet from its end. 

I became a serious directions asker (if there is such a thing). By the end of the day, at least a dozen, maybe two dozen, folks were approached with requests. Motels were getting scarce, but I finally found one. I do not recall ever finding so many people that did not have a clue.

So tomorrow's migration, via bicycle trails, will be interesting, and, no doubt, challenging. I suspect that once I am onto the trail system, I will be primarily dealing with bicyclers, so  my success ratio should improve.

Having ridden 63 miles today, Bloomington, according to my phone, is 23 miles away. Comparing car miles and bicycle miles is sort of like comparing human years to dog years. However, it would not surprise me if I arrive in Bloomington after 35 miles. Jack's place is on the far side of Bloomington, so it could be a 40-50 mile day. The weather should be pleasant, and a bit warmer.

At least I have a little more time for devotions.

God's peace to you all.