A night spent in an actual bed and I awoke refreshed. The huge breakfast of sausage, hash browns, eggs, and toast courtesy of my host didn't hurt matters any.
The day was uneventful except for a short visit from Mary, who offered to pick me something up at the convenient store. The long arm of Rising City love strikes one last time. The day was passed again solely on Highway 92, between Rising City and Osceola. Besides a short pit stop in Shelby I motored on rather efficiently, finishing before three.
Osceola is inexplicably named after the Seminole Indian who was the last to resist eviction from Florida. He fought a guerilla war for survival, hiding in the Everglades from 1832 until 1837 when he came in to negotiate a truce and was promptly arrested by the always trustworthy white man.
The town named after the poor bastard is the Polk county seat and has seen three governors born there during its history. I'd name them but I don't want to sound like a show off.
I spent the rest of my day bouncing between Terry's Ice Cream shop, the IGA, Casey's and the Park trying to stave off boredom. I failed.
13 miles/1953 total miles