Iowa is very pretty, but has a distinctive odor of manure outside the towns and cities. Yummie!! Aren't I lucky that I quit smoking and have a sense of smell again.

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We're supposed to be hit with three days of thunder storms. One quick sprinkle so far. Keep your fingers crossed for us.

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We get to Tiger's and here is this 75 year old biker God standing before us still nimble, and fit. Seriously, Carol told us that Tiger still bikes over 50 miles a day and runs at night. Tiger, whose wife's name is Jane, showed us around his collection of racing recumbent bikes and his shop. and yes, Tiger still races time trials in Illinois and Wisconsin and wins them. His shop is just filled with tools, bikes, and memories. Pictures of Tiger riding dotted the walls alongside other cyclists both tourers and racers. Getting down to business, Tiger sold us each a tube, knocking off a dollar each (road discount). The flat and added detour meant we didn't have a chance in he'll making it the last 18 miles for the day, so we asked Tiger for some sage like advice. The best advice he could give us was a little pull off near a North/South bound county highway. He also pointed out the one store, Casey's, in the Village of Dakota.

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While I was changing my tire, Sam went to the house nearby for water. a few minutes later he came out with Carol and Mike Johnson, a very lovely couple, who advised not only gave us water and each a delicious apple, but also directed us to one Tire Johnson who apparently operated a bike shop from his home. Now very low on tubes from Sam's double flat yesterday and my single today, we were hoping this one didn't prove a goose chase like the shops in Belvidere.

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Catch up from yesterday: no reception. Another flat tire! This really frustrated the he'll out of me. a little pebble somehow got between my tire and tube and proceeded rub a vertical line on my tube. The result: a slow leak that wasn't holding the patch. arrrggghhh!

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So in search of a bike shop earlier today, we came into Belvidere, Illinois. An odd backwater to begin with, we initially hit gold with a great Mexican restaurant but the good fortune ended there as we went to look for the towns two bike shops. The first shop marker on the map led us to a mural of Belvidere Bikes, which probably went out of business in 1947. The second marker led us to a faded lime green ranch style house in a residential neighborhood. We asked the neighbor, an old deaf man, if he knew of a bike shop near by. He pointed to the house again, and yelled, "Shack. I seen someone go there one day and he fixed him." Well sure enough walking int the backyard, there was a tiny one room bungalow with bike company logos in the small three by three window. there also was a very clearly displayed Sorry. We're Closed sign as well. With nobody home we moved on from the "City of Murals" (I saw six murals) in hopes of a city that doesn't just dream of bicycles.

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A nice filling Mexican breakfast after the first twelve miles of the day. 50 mile or so to go before rest and dinner.

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