Indiana

We crossed into Indiana very late in the afternoon, trying to squeeze in as many miles as we possibly could. Arriving in Clinton, we went to the only place in town that was luckily still open for dinner. We made some phone calls to the police and fire departments to try and find a spot to camp for the night but unfortunately had no luck. When the sun went down, the true colors of Clinton were able to really shine through. We encountered some very shady people and decided staying in town was not safe without a firearm. After barely escaping from a few pickup trucks intentionally trying to ram us, we called in the reinforcements. A police car escorted us all the way out of town and to the nearest motel which was quite a sight to be seen. Thankfully we all survived the night and can laugh about it now. The next day we took off on a long ride to Westfield and had some late afternoon showers to end the day. The ride was pretty flat and we rode ambitiously for hours, knocking off miles at a great pace. After lunch, we were cruising down a stretch when all of a sudden we rode right past a huge pothole in the middle of the shoulder. Obstructed by the three of us in front, Chey plunged right into the street-side abyss and was catapulted right over her handlebars. It was quite a scare and thankfully cars were able to hit the brakes quick enough to avoid her. She was shaken up and had some fresh wounds, but pushed on soon after and really showcased her road worthiness. We were so grateful to have beds that night and all slept great. When we woke up, we searched around town to replenish our tube supply and then headed northeast towards Hartford City and eventually the Ohio border. Indiana was the boyhood home of Abraham Lincoln.