On our way to Boston we spent a night in Providence, RI. I don't think I will remember this town well. It's a picturesque Ivy League town with an artsy flare but it went in one ear and out the other. Our time there was brief and most of it was spent talking shop with racers at the bike shop and watching "The Intern." We don't normally see movies in towns where we are spending only one night, but at this point we were tired. Tired of new places and faces. My head was full of a summer of experiences, each fighting for its place of significance in my mind. It was time for home. But first 180 miles.
I was hoping for an early start leaving Providence to beat the rain, the problem was that the other guys didn't seem interested in such an idea. I've noticed they have entirely given up on setting an alarm for the past few weeks. Sometimes the early bird doesn't get the worm, he just ends up sitting by a packed up bicycle.
We reached Boston before nightfall and met up with our host and friend Bridget in her swanky apartment to catch up. I feel a bit sorry for the people we meet and stay with on this leg of the trip. We are all worn down and spent. Our enthusiasm for the stories we tell is noticeably decreased, our antics have become crazier and our inside jokes have become so deep that we barely get them. Bridget watched us with a puzzled faced as we did what was now normal to us, we won her back by making her dinner.
It rained on our day off in Boston which gave us a nice excuse to not go sight-seeing. Bridget was again puzzled. She couldn't understand why we just wanted to just lounge around drinking cappuccinos and wine. We had senioritis, we wanted to show up late for class and drink beers in the parking lot.
Photos: Road to Providence // Dinner on Bridget's floor