Thursday July 4:  Kirksville, Missouri to Quincy, Illinois
Distance:  90.3 miles
Total time:  8 hours 15 minutes
Riding time:  6 hours 6 minutes

Today marked our third straight day of Missouri hills, and nothing could have made me happier than crossing Big Muddy late in the day and entering the flat state of Illinois.  Except that as soon as we crossed the river we had a tough climb up into Quincy, Illinois.  In any case, we cycled 260 miles in three days and it was one hill after another the entire way.  Are people aware of this?  Do geographers know?  And why wasn't I informed before the ride?  It now occurs to me that I don't think we saw a single cyclist for three days.  Not surprising.

So, yes, the hills.  But the good news was we were on country roads all day long, and sometimes we'd go 45 minutes without seeing a car.  And it was probably a tad milder than it's been, though it was still well into the 80s.

As I've said before, I enjoy the early morning starts.  The day is full of hope, and everyone is anxious to get started and put some miles behind them.  Here's Mike from Alabama, ready to get cracking, always upbeat and positive and with a wicked sense of humor.

And Doug from Petaluma.

And Michael, waiting for the other Amigos to mount up.

We've crossed railroad tracks hundreds of times so far, and we've seen many dozens of trains.  But in 2,400 miles we'd never gotten stuck waiting for a train until this morning, early in the ride.

Soon after the train, Jamie's chain broke.  Luckily Fearless Leader Jim was riding with us.  He's an excellent bike mechanic and he was able to fix the chain on the spot.  That's him working his magic while Jamie holds the bike.  That's me scratching my head and, uh, helping.

At about mile 25 we met up with the Brits who were, as usual, having tea and snacks in a local cafe.  This place was fun.  It was packed with locals who were curious about our ride and full of jokes and good cheer.

Jamie had lemon cream pie to help recover from the stress of the broken chain.

Missouri is the first state on the ride where I'd expect to see a Confederate flag.  Sure enough, this guy was at the gas station where we stopped to cool off.  I suppose he sees no contradiction in flying the stars and stripes and stars and bars together.  On Independence Day no less.

At 86 miles we came to the Mighty Mississippi, Big Muddy, the Father of Waters, which separates Missouri and Illinois.  We stopped to pose for pictures in front of the sign.  Here's Michael, with the bridge in the background.

And here I am.

The bridge itself was problematic.  As you can see above it's narrow, with no sidewalk or shoulder.  The speed limit says 40 but the traffic was doing 60.  There was no other option than take the lane and get across.  This is what it looked like as we rode across.

For the second consecutive state, we were robbed of the iconic photo op in front of the "welcome to ..." sign.  The welcome to Illinois sign was right at the end of the bridge with no place to pull over and pose.  This will have to do.

Today being the 4th of July, there was endless good natured kidding with the Brits.  Allan rode all day with a small American flag on his bike, as if to say no hard feelings.  As promised, the Brits wore their "Happy Treason Day Ungrateful Colonials" tee shirts.  That's Sean, Andy and Chris.

And I shared this history moment with them as well.

We were disappointed that we didn't come across a parade in any of the tiny towns we rode through today.  But my wife Kristin participated in the festivities in Pittsfield, Massachussetts with some friends, like this gentleman.  Happy Independence Day.

So no rest for the wicked.  Our reward for 260 miles of hills is 106 miles of hills tomorrow.  I thought Illinois was flat.  But today was our 30th day of cycling, out of 47.  And Saturday we'll pass 2,500 miles.  I won't say it's the beginning of the end, but it may be the end of the beginning.