Well, this will be an interesting update. Kentucky: what a place. It was raining when I started out and I stopped for a while to read some e-mail at the local library and to update my site (the previous update). I got a letter from KT that said that she looked forward to me riding towards her, not away from her. It rained all day and I was soaked to the bone when I got to Falmouth, Kentucky. I stopped at the local catholic church and asked a nun who lived there if there was a dry place to stay in town - a youth hostel or something. She told me "no" but said that her neighbor - a policeman - might know of a place or at least be able to instruct me. I told her that I did not want to cause a commotion but was just curious. She insisted that I might as well ask since they were probably just drinking coffee anyways. Well I hung around with her for awhile waiting for the policeman to show up as she told me about the church's history: how the flood had destroyed it a few years back and about the old bell ringer and such. I let her know that she didn't have to keep me company while I waited, but she said she was happy to. Well, the officer showed up and I realized my error. I was immediately spread across the railing and searched. My ID was seized and I was taken into custody. I was now the subject of a "terri-stop". Incidentally, for those of you who haven't figured it out, terri is short for terrorist. I was given the third degree as they checked my criminal record and tried to verify my identity. I was told to "go back to Canada". I was also told that I was not permitted to stay in town, or camp outside of it. I was also informed of their ability to "drum-up charges" and put me in prison. I was told that any attempt to camp would at best result in my arrest, at worst at my being shot. The officer also told me that the nun was "scared to death" when she called. Damn, that's one tough nun not to show it at all and to keep me occupied until the police came. :) Incidentally, the nun never even called the police directly, so that was obviously not true. During my time there, people from all over town called to find out what was going on. Even the mayor called for an update on the terrorist crisis. I think my worst error in the whole affair was mentioning that I was against the war in Iraq. I was informed that they were going to blow up Iraq whether I liked it or not. The police officer - who had seen combat twice, he informed me - kept asking me questions like "Have you ever seen your friend get blowed up right next to you? Have you?!". I tried to explain that I was just trying to see the world, to which he responded "Then join the army!". It was a pointless conversation. Eventually, after confirming that my ID was legitimate and that Quebec was indeed a place, I was released - in some sense. Since it was now too dark to be on the roads and I was not allowed to camp in that county, and since the next county would probably be advised of my presence and told to give me similar treatment, I had to think of a way out of Kentucky. I looked through my pocket and found a card from the truckers I had met up near Delaware. I called the number on the card to find out if a truck was nearby, and soon help was on the way. I sat in the police lobby - incidentally, the only place I was allowed to be in town - and read Siddhartha from cover to cover. It was excellent and particularly poignant considering my situation. A few moments after I finished the book, help arrived and my bike and I were transported back to Delaware, Ohio. I'm now living with the Mundls, the owners of the trucking company. I asked if I could help out in some way the next morning after my rescue from Kentucky. Ms. Mundl thought about it for awhile and eventually sent me on a mail-run to Delaware. The post-office was a block away from KT's house. I could see the observatory next to her place. I was riding towards her, not away from her, less than a day after I read her letter. What does it mean? What is left to be done here? I will be in the Delaware region until monday night when my bike will be placed in the trailer and myself in the cab of a truck heading westward. I have three days to figure it out.