First, some housekeeping. To see the latest on the Ride, including daily distances and places updates, go to rideforhumanrights.com . That’s where you can find the “Donate” button too.
Where we are:
This morning Jeffrey had a good talk with Travis, who has a degree in Web design and is getting a business off the ground while he does hospitality work.
Travis is disturbed by current political rhetoric about immigrants and refugees. He says no group has a monopoly on goodness nor on evil. He encounters all sorts in the motel business, and finds something to like in just about everyone. Travis likes Missouri’s outdoor life but dislikes the weather extremes. Once his Web business is stable, he knows he can run it from just about anywhere. Maybe from the road! The Ride has fired his imagination.
We spent most of today on old Route 66, parallel to I-44. Route 66 is much hillier, though. The highs are higher, the lows are lower. The air was fresh, the hot sun interrupted by passing clouds, the headwinds fierce, the pavement variable. Another challenging day on the road.
Roger was born and raised in Florida. After roaming the country for a while, he settled in Marshfield to be near family.
Roger believes that protecting refugees and the right to asylum is the American way. He thinks the Ride is a great idea and said he hopes he sees us in the news – for good things only, of course.
In West Ozark, Tom pulled over to chat.
Tom was a public school art teacher, worked in construction, and builds his own bicycles. He told Jeffrey about his recumbent and showed him his latest “wedgie” rig.
Like everyone else we’ve met on this Ride, Tom thinks it’s important that asylum applicants have lawyers to help present their cases. He added the common caveat – “As long as they do it legally!” – and was glad to learn that asylum applicants are only exercising their rights under law.
Tom led us about 10 miles to Strafford, where he bought Jeffrey a milkshake, and told a funny story about Tom’s uncle (once Strafford’s mayor, he recently died at 97) getting tongues to wag by bringing a dead armadillo to Strafford before the beasts had migrated this far northeast. Then he guided Jeffrey to a shortcut to our Springfield destination.
Here we are, 11 days away from home, 605 miles into the Ride, thankful to drivers for respecting us, to our new friends for teaching us and guiding us, and to Nancy for the financial and emotional support that keeps us on the road.
Joey, There’s a book in you. I think it’s called “Joey’s Journey.” Maybe Jeffrey can help you write it. Keep taking pictures and notes.