Today was an emotionally difficult day. I happily ran a bunch of errands in the morning and got out to ride at around 11:30. When I stopped for lunch, I heard a man speaking in a fake Indian accent to his girlfriend/wife. On his way back to the car, he said to a stranger, ‘Yo you see that motherfucker over there? That’s a darkie.’ She said, ‘What are you talking about?’ He repeated it. This entire time, I averted my eyes, ate quickly and left. Then, not 3 miles from that town, I got my first flat. That was a pain, but an incredibly helpful British cyclist helped me so at least I didn’t have to go back to that same town. At the end of the day, though, I have found myself at an RV campground that is friendly to cyclists, where I’ve met kind people who have even fed me more than I could eat. Despite fear and racism, I kept pedaling into the unknown, and kindness has resurfaced.