This morning was cool, but the forecast called for a high of 81F (27C).

Jeffrey donned shorts he bought the previous day at Target.

He was guided by Target staffer Katherine (who declined to be photographed). Katherine’s encyclopedic sartorial knowledge is remarkable in light of all the moving parts she manages—studying for final college exams, raising a young child, earning a living. We cited her in a survey form. She could use a raise.

Shorts meant that Jeffrey’s legs dried faster after we were hit with a heavy rainstorm (which declined to be photographed) that was not in the forecast.

Then the sky cleared and the heat set in.

In a hamlet called Hamlet (pop. 773), Jeffrey met Jeed, a Rajasthani entrepreneur. When Jeed learned our mission, he said it was an honor to meet us, and gave Jeffrey a bottle of cold delicious water.

Today’s destination was Columbia City, 86 miles from Valparaiso.

At the 40 mile mark, at Plymouth, it already was 2:30 PM. Perhaps Jeffrey had been too careful to avoid overheating; our slow pace left four unpleasant hours ahead of us. His head rang from the parade of tractor-trailers passing almost close enough to touch. Fighting sidewinds was grating. His clip-on sunglasses had gone missing. We needed a change.

We changed direction from SE to due north. Side wind became tailwind. New destination: South Bend.

(We biked through South Bend en route to Iowa in 2011.)

We saw pretty fields along the way.

The road was good. And quiet! And like other northern Indiana roads, flat.

At the south edge of South Bend, Brandon and Aria asked about the Ride.

Aria is a home-schooled 5th grader. She and her father, Brandon, discuss history. A sign of quality: Aria knows that Ronald Reagan and Tip O’Neill would do political battle, then drink whiskey together.

Brandon runs a business, formerly lived near San Diego, and has a nuanced view of the immigration mess. He and Jeffrey agree that the law should unite families, protect refugees, let businesses buy the labor of willing workers—without multi-year waits for asylum hearings, family unification, and work visas.

Too bad that today’s pols think that solving problems is bad politics.

South Bender Aaron is amazed that we biked 22 miles from Plymouth to South Bend—never mind that we left Minneapolis 9 days and 591 miles ago. Like most Americans, he’s a car person, measuring a distance by how long it takes to drive there.

Where do a Kangaroo Court Puppet …

… and chauffeur go from here?