SUNDAY, JUNE 8:  Danville, Pa. to State College, Pa. – 72 miles.  Today was the hardest day yet.  It had all of yesterday’s heat and humidity combined with long uphill grades, little shade and headwinds that required us to pedal even on the downhills.  Our lower gears got a major workout and the temperatures by midmorning were nudging the 100-degree mark.  Add in the humidity-driven “misery index” and you get about 118.

            By 11 or so we were as beat up as we normally get by 3.  We loaded water bottles at every minimart and popped S Caps, a “performance supplement”, like they were Pez candies.  But by early afternoon we left the farmland for forest on State Route 45 and toward the top were running out of water when we came upon a roadside spring.  “The cleanest, coldest water you can find”, said an old man filling several one-gallon jugs.  “My wife and I have been drinking it for years and we’re still kicking.”  We filled our bottles, doused our heads and continued.

            We next ran out of water in Woodward, a small town right out of the Twilight Zone.  The homes were well kept, the lawns were watered and the hedges were clipped.  But there was no sign of life anywhere.  Maybe it was because the Misery Index by then was nearing 125.  So we walked into a charming bed and breakfast, called for help, got no reply and filled up our bottles in the bathroom.  The place was actually very charming.

            Also adding interest to the day was that we were deep in Amish country and passed numerous buggies loaded with charming children and parents who inevitably waved to us.  But we had to watch out for Amish exhaust on the pavement in front of us.

            Had a late lunch at Aaronburg, where Lynda’s Home Cooking served us up a great sub.  “We have to eat here more often”, said Ben.

            Dessert, about six miles down the line in Spring Mills, was a milkshake at a rib and ice cream place called – and I swear this is true – Joan’s Bones and Cones.

            We pulled into State College and old friend Martha Freeman’s place after 7 p.m. and after ten and a half hours in the saddle.  A shower, a home-cooked meal, ice cream at eh Penn State Creamery and the prospect of a day off were never more welcome.