Thanks Mom (you will later learn this has no association with the subsequent text but... literally everything)

The struggle continued this morning. Gear and clean-up from the previous evening took about two hours to pack onto the bikes and by the time we were ready to leave, I was close to falling asleep again.

Thankfully, the first portion of the ride continued on the same bike path as the night before and it was a short cruise to Frenchtown. Packing from 5:40 to 7:45, we didn't really have the time to eat much, so we elected for another highly praised cafe; this assurance coming from our pal Jack Hengy.

The "Lovin Oven" had the most delicious vegan and vegetarian foods (Josh wins) and the most beautiful waitresses. I didn't want to leave. I whispered, "I love you" to our waitress Morgan every time she walked away... half-jokingly. We stayed for two hours allowing the food to digest and enjoying the lovely little shack.

Just as we prepared to leave Lovin Oven, somehow (while I was in the toilet...equipped with seat and porcelain) the waitresses found out about our bike trip. One waittress, Megan, gave us a pound of granola! And wished us luck on the trip. 

Walking outside, a man with a bike pump strapped to his bag circled curiously around us in the parking lot.

"Where are you guys coming from?" Rich said with a smile.

"Ah, only Day 3 but we're coming from Philly" reiterated Mike.

"Where you guys headed?"

"Bar Harbor, Maine than Anacortes, Washington."

Rich's smile gleamed as he touched upon his wish to do a similar feat one day. He had our total backing. The brief interaction was a stimulant for the ride as we took off down the road, heading for Milford a few miles away. On the way, we found an old abandoned mill with warning signs all over the place. We couldn't resist.

On our way onto the property, we were addressed by a loud honking. I cautiously attempted to pretend... I was riding in circles? An unhealthy looking man with a thin face and a round belly emerged from his small four-door sedan, parked as if in wait for an illegal explorer. 

"Hey, hey! What's your names?" He grunted.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. We just stopped for water. We're biking across the country" Mike half-heartedly said. 

"This is private property."

I nervously sang a song as I biked away from the man, pretending to act unaffected. We continued our way into Milford.

At Milford, Josh and I got a small headstart as Mike stopped at a convenience store. Josh and I continued onward. The ride for the rest of the day was extravagant. The 20 or so miles to Phillipsburg were on a road closed due to maintenence so automobiles were of no concern. We stopped at a railroad track on the postponed trail to take a swim in the Delaware River (border of NJ and PA) and relax. However, by 2:30, a storm began brewing.

In my haste to evacuate... I forgot Josh and Mike (sorry guys, I abhor the rain) and flew to Phillipsburg where I found a nice hot dog joint as well as another curious surveyor glancing over my bike. Words of encouragement and hope for the future were exchanged and meals were consumed.

Mike and Josh joined me in Phillipsburg and we enjoyed a bar called Black and Blue. I won't attempt to conceal the fact we've stayed in hotels both on Day 1 and Day 3. We're adjusting to roughing it. And I'm way too frugal to continue the "lavish" living. Plus... the outdoors are so much more... (insert appropriate adjective here).

Journeying along the bike trail from Lambertsville to Frenchtown.

"The EPA is currently undergoing an investigation for hazardous materials at this current location". Yeeaahh, every industrial plant ever. 

River Road... closed to traffic :)

Delaware River

Climbed a large hill for this view. One of the harder climbs so far.

^not my photo. But this is from the ever-so-small community of Carpentersville. Founded in the early 18th century by a man from Sweden. The spot found revenue as a location for the railroad. The non-incorportated community is largely made up of the descendents ofthe original   founder. For the life of me I can't remember his name but all of the old houses still look exactly the same.

Fun Fact: Met a man who was the nephew of championship boxer Larry Holmes. Holmes grew up in Easton, Pa. 

Shit, I should have made this clear. Separating Easton from Phillipsburg (and PA from NJ) is the Delaware River. The towns are literally within a stone's throw away from one another.

Anyway, you may know Holmes from defeating Muhammad Ali TWICE as Greg (his nephew) made sure we knew. The Quality Inn we're staying in was owned by Holmes until recently. It also sits on "Larry Holmes Drive", a main road in the town.

Fun Fact #2: Phillipsburg saw its population constantly on the rise from 5,000 people in 1870 to 20,000 in 1930. The river and railroad being prime sources of the economic glory and industrial prowess they once had. However, since 1930, the population has dropped about 3% every year sitting at 14,700 or so people now. Hate to say it but drugs seem to play a large economic roll in the city now. Many of the people seem... distant.