Meet me in St. Louis

So it's official. Just like Lewis and Clark, we are heading West. And now I know that we will surely make it because we crossed the Mississippi yesterday, marking the difference between "I guess that's a pretty far way to bike" and "Oh my God you must be jacked" territory. We sped through the Land of Lincoln, my home state, at a pretty serious clip. Blink, and we might have missed Lawrenceville or Salem, the two towns in which we stayed. The most memorable part of Illinois was certainly the 4th of July, not for any particular celebration, but because of our stay in the donated rooms of the Gas Lite Motel. That's right. Double beds. Sheets. Pillows. TV. A shower only shared by 3-4 people. God bless America.
Other than that, Illinois was marked by easy, flat riding and the disturbing scenery of the remnants of the recent flooding. From Bloomington through Illinois, we repeatedly encountered FEMA workers there to look over the damage, and several locals told horrific stories of flood damage. One elderly woman in Lawrenceville told a story about how her kitchen had been completely flooded, and as her family attempted to head out to safety, her dog ran forward first and was electrocuted, inadvertently sacrificing himself for his owners. Stories like that seemed to be fairly commonplace in the area and gave a startling new face to the recent news. I can only hope that FEMA operations are successful and that those with flood damage recieve some amount of aid.
On a happier note, the sun has come out for our day in St. Louis and the arch, the zoo and (of course) the ubiquitous trip to the bike shop are all in order. Will write again soon.
Westward ho!