In the morning we got up, took down the tent and got some of the typical Run-For-The-Wall breakfast, consisting of biscuits and gravy, donuts and coffee. Then we got to the riders' meeting. Afterward we were delayed by a huge crash and some young people were killed. So we waited in the parking lot and, much off schedule, we all rolled out.
We went through a short leg and stopped at the West Virginia State Capitol. We got a huge picture with the whole Run gathered on the steps of the gigantic building. We would have gone inside, but we had to catch up and left soon after the picture.
The ride started to get interesting as we went into the mountainous forest. The road tw
isted and curved in fun but sometimes dangerous ways.
isted and curved in fun but sometimes dangerous ways.Then we turned around for the best accident we had ever had.
One person's bike quit running. I didn't get all the details, but I know that the person was not hurt at all, the bike only had a few scratches and that this was not a bad accident at all.
This gave us the opportunity to ride back alone. On the way Dad stopped for some ice cream. It was a nice break before returning to the stressful pack.
When we go
t to the school of Rainelle, where we stayed for much of the day, bikes filled the road. Children filled the schoolyard and we went among them, passing out tracts and signing papers. It is a big event for the kids because they have much respect for the Run. All year they look forward to this day. We went inside for lunch. While we waited in line I noticed several essays were posted along the wall about "the price of freedom." They were interesting and sometimes cute when you could figure out it was written by an eight-year-old.
t to the school of Rainelle, where we stayed for much of the day, bikes filled the road. Children filled the schoolyard and we went among them, passing out tracts and signing papers. It is a big event for the kids because they have much respect for the Run. All year they look forward to this day. We went inside for lunch. While we waited in line I noticed several essays were posted along the wall about "the price of freedom." They were interesting and sometimes cute when you could figure out it was written by an eight-year-old.We ate lunch in a gym and talked with Chaplain Dean, who had by then found us, until we were some of the last people still eating in the room.
Then we rode away to Lewisburg, West Virginia, and into a store where we looked for a new tent again. And, again, we walked out, dissatisfied with the high prices and the awkward shapes of the tents. Maybe the zipper could hold out for one more night.
We set up the tent, rested awhile, then went and got dinner. Then, exhausted, went to bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment