We ended our first day on the road at Abbey Park in Lyons, NY. The benches and the bathrooms were a welcome sight for Brie , who was exhausted, even though our ride had covered a mere 36 miles. For my own part, I admit that I was happy to see the park, but decidedly less enthused about the group setting up in the pavilion. You could tell what they were by their name tags: Mormons. Now I am not proud that I felt the way I did, and I will be the first to say how wrong it was of me to dismiss the whole group as bothersome without even a word from them, but the truth is, I was not in the mood to be converted. I would have felt the same way about Hare Krishna’s, or Scientologists, for instance. It’s a question of wanting to relax more than saying ‘no thanks’ a hundred different ways. Anyway, one member of the group snuck over and invited Brie over while I was taking a dump. When I came out, she was adamant about going over; she didn’t want macaroni & cheese, she wanted a cheeseburger! So we went over and everyone was incredibly kind, made introductions, made jokes (‘He’s one of them “Salt Lake City” Mormon’s!’–a classic,) asked us what we were doing, and, what would prove to be a common question, why. Then we ate . . . and while we ate, the moment that I had been anticipating arrived: the story of who they were. Mormons, indeed. But that’s where they stopped, and I have to admit it was weird. They didn’t try to recruit us at all! I was thankful for that. All anyone offered was future kindnesses along the way.