Ride faster--I hear banjo music!

Hey, y'all, it's Matt again. I hope y'all read this because Will is always getting on me about updating the blog. I'll try to make this interesting.

In case it hasn't been mentioned, a cold front passed through and it has been in the 60's or coller at night and in the mornings. The others brought jackets, and I did not. I though to myself while packing, "It's July, what will I need a jacket for? I'll just save some space in my bag. It's been a little chilly. Another mistake I made was to pass up a shower a few days ago. I was tired and ready for bed thinking I'd catch one the next day. Well, the chance hasn't come around for a few days now. My beard is long and my hair spikes itself. I'm not completely alone in my absence of shower, but I do believe I have the record for now.

Two nights before last we stayed in a hostel. This was a new experience for me. We were in Damascus, Virginia, population: ~900. Their whole economy is based around cyclists and the Appalachian Trail. It's a trail town, very cool. BUT--no cell phone reception, which is OK if you live there, because you can yell to anyone anywhere in town.

At the hostel, we met a man named Ken who lived in Boston, but was born in Georgia--this being a useful background to relate to both Yankees and Southerners. Ken was hiking half of the AT, having through-hiked the entire trail last year. He provided us with knowledge of the town and some good conversation. We also met a fellow named Bong, from Japan. He informed us that he was riding from coast to coast (west to east), and gave us a few tips.

Two days ago, we crossed from rural Virginia to very rural Kentucky. Bong told us that Kentucky is flat--either he was lying or we need to go a lot farther. The hills here in Kentucky are shorter than in Virginia, but they are very steep. On top of that we have gotten rained on the past two days. Honestly, my first impressions of Kentucky haven't been very good. It's rural here and the only industry in coal mining. The people here drive fast and litter a lot. It's beautiful country, though, if you can get past the constant trash in the ditches.

Two evenings ago, we were looking for a hostel after getting rained out a little earlier in the day. We came across a group of people standing in front of a church. They informed us that the man who ran the hostel, which was right up the road, had had a heart attack and was in the hospital. They then promptly invited us to stay in their church and have dinner with a youth group that was in town to do some service work. This was great news--we had no place to stay and were cold and wet. So we graciously accepted. They fed us hot dogs and chips, and we learned about the different religions of the mountain people and how those religions have influenced each other over the years. The church where we were was the Caney Baptist Church, of the "Ole Regular" Baptist beliefs. Absolutely wonderful people, and the youth group's church offered to put us up in their home church when we passed by there. They also fed us breakfast yesterday morning. It was nice to meet those people, because my view of this area was starting to become gloomy, and they definitely brought big smiles.

To the Benton family:

Than you so much for the use of your van and all your support (especially in the form of cookies). Michael and Will are masters at the art of argument and love to show this off to Brian and me. They provide us with hours of entertainment while they try to decide which one if better at whatever. Just kidding around, they are awesome and have done a fantastic job orchestrating this trip.

If you haven't heard from us lately, it's because Cingular doesn't have cell phone coverage out here. We're hoping to find it soon. Sometimes the internet works, sometimes it doesn't--please be patient with us. We're all safe and we miss you back home. Yesterday morning Will said to me, "You don't know how good home is until you're in another place." So true.