As I fell asleep last night, the pitter-patter of rain hits the greenhouse I am sleeping in. In the morning, the roar of rain and thunder greets me. It stormed all night but I was dry, I am so grateful to Judy and her family who are hosting me for two days to avoid this storm. The sound of rain is peaceful, but I know that if I were outside I would be writing quite differently about it.

Judy and her entire family are volunteer firefighters and postmasters here in Elk, her mother was a physicist and designed and built their home. The house uses convection to blow hot air down from the top to a pile of stones beneath the floor, the windows are all hand made stained glass by her mother, and the walls are draped with hand dyed quilts, painstakingly woven. 

When I met Judy, I also met her entire community. Everyone here is genuine and caring, they have grown up together - most of them are in their early 60's. I don't have a single friend from my formative days, they have dozens.

The day passes slowly, with the sky thoroughly clouded over and torrential rain constantly streaming down the greenhouse walls, it is hard to tell the difference between 10 am and 5 pm. It's okay to be in limbo sometimes, keeps the mind away from the bike, the route, the elevation, the aches, and the headwinds.