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It was a strange day. I started out with a visit to Graceland, Elvis's mansion. It's surprisingly modest in size, though extravagant—and hideous—in decoration. I really can't imagine choosing the design elements that Elvis chose, much less combining them in the same room. Elvis's private jet was a little more restrained, though the gold plated seatbelts were a little over the top.
In the afternoon, I rode into Arkansas. There are some strange things by the side of US 70 in Arkansas. I saw a field that looked like it had been crop-circled, a guy rolling a globe taller than himself, and a monsterized Plymouth Voyager.
There were some storms rolling through, I got lightly sprinkled once and hit by a real downpour the second time. Of course, today was the day that I took the warm liner out of my riding pants—the liner that happens to be the waterproof layer. Oops.
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