Remember that it was pouring, and after 85 miles, I was tired and it was late. What are the chances that I find a deserted house in the middle of the first monster storm of the trip? I don't know. And the fact that the house has a large, unlocked porch with roof and walls? It doesn't matter. I found it, and I was going to take full advantage of my luck. After setting up the tent and sleeping bag, and changing clothes- all kept dry in panniers and garbage bags- I instinctively snapped into my regular routine of charging my phone and iPod for the next day. What are the chances a rider in a storm stumbles upon a deserted house with enclosed back porch with working outlets? Very, very small, I'm sure. But, damn, I'm lucky.
The next morning, with fully-charged devices, I looked into the clear and sunny distance to see three motel signs rising into the air like church steeples, not even a mile away.
Near the motels was a McDonald's, and as I filled my cup with ice and Diet Coke, I felt vaguely as if I was Tom Hanks in ''Castaway'', returning to civilization. Of course, all I did was sleep on a porch, and I didn't have to perform any dentistry with an iceskate. (I would have, though!)
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