round 75, had some threatening clouds behind us, but we outran them. As we left our campsite, the boys were fired up to see what adventures and challenges lay ahead. 
As we worked our way through town, we crossed the Mighty Mississippi over Centennial Bridge to an area called Rock Island. This was a Saturday morning, and was eerily, in fact spooky...there was noone there, at all. Riley was freaking out a bit. No cars, no shops open, no people walking around. Stephen King would've loved this. It was Children of the Corn (not a good reference...very scary actually), the City Version. As we worked our way through to Moline, we asked some folks how to get to the Heppenin Canal Trail. They had no clue..we were on our own. Then to East Moline, then to a Pizza Hut in Colona. Nicest guy, gave us the best news...we were 4 blocks from the 105 mile trailhead. The boys knocked down a medium pepperoni in no time and off we went to the Canal. This trail was crushed rock, not exactly the smoothest service for our 485 lb rig, but what made things more challenging, were all of the washouts that we had to push our machine up and around. Those 'Warning' Signs worked Dylan and Riley's pscyhe a bit.Now, we were rolling along for miles, which is fine. The problem was the unbelievable heat and humidity. The guy at the Pizza Hut said this was the hottest day of the year...lucky us. Lot's of stops, I was WAY overheated and we were running out of liquids, so off the trail we went and worked our way to a town called Atkinson. Through corn field after corn field, all incredibly manicured and very well kept. A smattering of soy bean fields as well. A Red truck passed us with the dogs screaming at us to get over...we soon became friends with those dogs.
As we turned the final corner of our now, 9 1/2 hour ride (yes, I felt like 'SurvivorMan/Daddy style) we pulled up to the first restaurant we had seen in 4 hours, Gordo's Barn. Sitting at the bar were a group of unbelievably nice folks, smiling and wondering what on earth we were doing on a bike on a hot day like this. Our goal for the day was another 10 miles away, called Sheffield, the boys were cooked, so one of the guys there was Bernie. Bernie is our hero. I asked Bernie if he knew someone with a truck because the boys (and of course myself) were toast. The idea of another 10 miles was not pleasant one bit. After a wonderful round of Sprites and Mike's Hard Lemonade, Bernie said that he was picking up Pizzas for his family, and if we wanted, he'd give us a ride back to his house, eat with his posse and he'd run us to Sheffield. Yup, fine idea Bernie. His home...unbelievable, his family...perfect and exactly what you'd hope families in these parts would be. Tons of kids, great big beautiful yard and Riley and Dylan had new ears to listen to their tales. And yes, those dogs that were barking...Bernie's. Turns out, this was Bernie's home since he was married, some forty-plus years ago, and the pizza, apparently celebration for that very day, was their wedding anniversary.
Dylan in the back of the pickup, with Blackjack, said, "This is the greatest day of my life...I never rode in the back of a pickup before!" Mom may not have approved, but this was a Manly Man's trip, right?
A short night at our very favorite, Best Western (with an icy cold swimming pool, made my legs shake), and we were off again.
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