Hereford, Texas

Ok, so maybe pizza hut was for dinner, but the title is appropriate as we entered the beef capital of the world today. It was a very active and strange day. Chaos awoke the group at 3am in one of the strangest stories I have been a part of. Apparently, there was a break in around the corner from the habitat for humanity building we were sleeping in. Cops were searching for a suspect and crusing down the street checking buildings. When they came across ours, the front door was unlocked which they thought was a little suspicious so they entered to do a search. Officers were going around the first floor and called for back up because there were a lot of rooms to search. The canine unit showed up just as they were finishing the search of the first floor and they released a dog into the basement. We were all sleeping in the basement and te dog trotted by a few people after he descended the stairs and entered the first room. He started sniffing Kristine who woke up at 3am ish, startled to find a dog hovering over her. The dog attacked without command or warning, latching on to her elbow and moving to her lower rib cage. Officers ran downstairs and questioned those who had woken up as to who we were and what we were doing there. Meanwhile, the dog was still attacking and hadn't been called off yet. The police handled the situation very poorly and were very rude to our leaders discussing the aftermath. Their medical skills were subpar as the first thing they did was make Kristine stand up. It looked like she had lost about a pint of blood, so when she was stood up by officers, she immediately passed out. I ended up going upstairs to talk to 3 officers, one of the K9 unit, and a paramedic outside. Atleast one officer sounded sincerely sorry for the fiasco. The other just sounded sorry because of the paperwork inevitably following such an incedent. After a 20 min chat with police to figure out what exactly happened (I had slept through the whole thing soundly) I went back downstairs to spread word to others and then promptly fell back asleep. Girls sleeping in the same room as Kristine were crying and everyone was visibly scared and shocked. She was taken to hospital where two of our leaders met her in the van. Doctors ran a CAT scan and saw air in her elbow and arterial damage so they recommended she be air lifted to a qualified surgeon 90 miles away. This is what happened, but that doctor said surgery wasn't necessary. Kristine came back by 9pm with scars and bandages from a freak situation that never should have happened and scared the bejesus out of everyone. With news and witness of such a shocker, we entered the ride with a somber mood. The morning cheer was skipped and we all just started pedaling. We took an immediate detour to go to Cadillac Ranch, an odd place with grafitti cars planted in the ground. We came prepared with spray paint and wrote messages to our fallen comrade Kristine that we took pictures of to send to her. We all had the opportunity to tag some personal messages and artwork while interacting with other tourists. Two ladies approached Ryan S. and said they saw him conquer the steak challenge the night before. Celebrity status for Ryan! Also near the route today was Palo Duro Canyon which is the second largest canyon in the US. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to cycle to that destination because I had chosen to see the cadillacs which were in a semi opposite direction. The canyon was magnificent from the pictures I saw and stories I heard. A ranger told the group of cyclists who went to the canyon to ride down to the bottom and he would drive them back up. I played the game of distractions throughout the whole ride today. The game goes a little something like this: ask any question or tell any story to distract me from my ass pain caused by the bumpiest roads ever (curse you rt. 60). Tricking my mind was a success as I dove deep into philosophical discussions of religion. I even stopped to draw a diagram with chalk on the road of why it's logical to beleive in the existence of God. Thank you professor Mixie. After a nice hour long nap at the lunch stop, I finally made it into Hereford, population 20,000... Cow population 200,000. Literally right as we passed the city limit sign the 10 mile unpleasant odor of fermentation an filth turned into an overpowering stentch of methane and manure. Hereford named after a breed of cow a bovine breeding ground for beef. It was like a sold out yankees red sox game with standing room only filled up and no open space to move. If cows are claustrophobic, the big moos must be having more panic attacks than Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets.

Boy does bike and build know how to put on a dance party. Since cycling in the heat all day has been known to cause extreme exhaustion, the shin dig only lasted about two hours. However, the two hours were of pure country bliss as we all donned our best southern garb and boogied until our legs gave out. The playlist was mostly country music with a couple other party classics thrown in here and there. Of course we did the Boot Scootin' Boogie that Sara and I taught everyone. Despite the blisters I got from my $10 antique handmade cowboy boots, I still had a rootin tootin time. Chris showed us all how human beings are supposed to dance as he drew off of his past theater experience to wow the crowd.i wish we could hodown every night because it's so much better than everyone napping. Boots hats and jeans is the way to go. Being a cowboy never felt so good.