It’s a hot day at Cooper’s Landing.
The Missouri River stretches to the right. A bluegrass band and crickets hum in the background. And people are scattered about listening, drinking beer and fanning away the heat. I glance around for Sara Dykman, who’s just arrived from Jefferson City by bike and who’s heading toward Mexico. I don’t see her, but I do see her bicycle.
The bike is bright pink and loaded down with stuff. Suddenly, Sara appears with a Mr. Pibb in hand, catching me in the middle of snapping photos.