This is Not a Rest Stop

Don't be fooled by this sign. This is not a rest stop. Table service only. We saw one young couple looking to "kick start their day" sent packing because the line for a table was too long. Meanwhile, the only thing brewing was a storm outside. And when Sander uttered the word "storm," our fate was sealed!

Try to imagine a rain so hard that water flowed down the hills faster than the bikes. A rain so difficult that a rescue team had to be sent out to ride up Route 2 battling piercing rain, pellets of hail and enormous lightening bolts exploding in the sky. Could we make it to the coffee shop? See the next blog post to find out...

This is a Rest Stop

Well...we made it. A couple of lattes later and only the drops of water on the bikes were left to remind us of our deluge. Jose, in generous fashion said, "your money is no good here!" Warm coffee after a cold rainy ride felt very good.

Here's the Yellow Jersey himself leading the pack with Sander, Beth and Teresa following close by.

The Bull Dog

Back at the cars under the ever watchful eyes of the Southern Bulldog, our calamitous but memorable ride came to a happy end as always.