Skip the play by play. I'm diving in. Apologies if this one doesn't make sense.
In the morning we said goodbye to a wonderful couple and their zany puppy living in Somerville. Planned for a short ride through the Boston Suburbs. Through hedge rows and winding through farmland.
The city quickly faded into the greenery, larger houses-- and most likely a higher median income. I got us lost looking for Farm Road. We followed Farm Street thinking it was the same thing. Thinking that there were many more farms in this part of the state at one point. Thinking lots.
Stopped for snack that we believed was going to go by quickly... ended up taking an hour and a half at my Great Aunt's farm where we met the guitarist and drummer for Dispatch and swam in the farm pool. My great aunt was so kind. So incredibly wonderful. Won't forget the peanut butter and fruit for a while. Or the fact that Dispatch uses her hay loft as a practice garage. We talked with "the Guys" (as Sally first referred to them) for a bit about the ride that we were going to make for the next three months.
Onward. Because it's too far to go home now.
We stayed with Ben's friend, Jeremy, in Southborough for the night. Wonderful respite and evening of games. Tasted some hyper-local home brew and learned how to play card-based monopoly. [Capitalism invaded the living room for a bit. Wasn't necessarily a bad thing because we at least had the illusion of control.]
Did I decide at 11:30pm that I was going to bike 100 miles the next day? Probably.