Oh how I hate mosquitoes, I woke up on the baseball field in a state of misery. My sleeping bag was wet from condensation, I was covered in salty dried sweat and insect repelent. The mosquitoes stung my forehead, ears and lip, I was pissed and ready to get riding.
Along Hwy 33 we met a cyclist named Jim from North Carolina riding a sweet looking Cannondale with a Bob trailer. He was not happy with the wind, there was only one day he'd had tailwinds. We exchanged addresses and wishes of good luck and rode off our oposite directions.
In Rexburg everything closes on Sunday. We were able to find an Albertson's that was open and took a two hour lunch break in it's shade. There was no reason to hurry through the hot part of the day when we couldn't pickup our mail in Ashland, 20 miles to the north, until the next day (Monday).
Hwy 20 sucked going out of Rexburg, the Idaho DOT had marred the perfect six foot wide shoulder with a six inch long rumble strip every 15 feet that covered the entire width of shoulder. So when we saw the Jessen's RV Park and Bed & Breakfast as we started to come into Ashland it seemed like the perfect place to stop.
It was run by a couple that seemed like the archetypical grandparents, she'd dote on you and he spent his time fixing stuff. This was the best campground we've been at, they had marshmallows and let us make smores that night. I'd love to be able to stay there again.
andrew
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