b'Day 41JULY 8We take a day off to do laundry, repair our bikes, re-supply, and most importantly, recharge our bodies. We also write letters and postcards to friends and family and scope out what we think may be the best route from here to St. Louis, our next stop. On Sunday, July 8, that day of rest certainly pays off. We make tremendous time as our route leads out of Yankton, South Dakota along the Missouri River basin and eventually into Iowa. There are no hills. In fact, other than a steep climb to get to the top of one of the river bluffs, we enjoy a slight downhill grade most of the day. It is sunny, not too hot, and the road is nearly empty. We gauge our distance town to town by looking for the next water tower ahead on the horizon. Just after crossing the border from South Dakota into Iowa, we stop to eat lunch and watch the Tour de France at El Fredo Pizza, rated best pizza in Sioux City. From Sioux City we ride another 40 miles to the small town of Onawa. We make a beeline to the town pool to swim, shower and cool off. We discuss camping options with the parks and rec director. Onawa is another municipality gracious enough to allow us to use the town park as our campground, so we set up in a grove of trees right next to the baseball diamond. That evening, a ferocious thunderstorm comes in from the west. We have a difficult time sleeping, knowing that our tent is resting under the largest tree in the park. I have nightmares all night long of a lightning bolt striking the tree above us, traveling down the trunk, and running through the roots to electrocute us. Emilie and I huddle together on our little Therm-a-Rest sleeping pads and cringe at every flare of light and clap of thunder. BEGIN: Yankton, SDEND: Onawa, IADISTANCE: 103.1 milesour first centuryTRIP TOTAL: 2,148.2 milesDay 42JULY 9We emerge to a messy scene of downed tree limbs throughout the Onawa Town Park. The storm has plastered leaves to the side of our tent and sticks are stuck in the spokes of our bikes. After cleaning up the mess and packing up our camp, we stop at the Onawa Caf in the middle of town on Iowa Avenue, self-proclaimed as the Widest Main Street in America. As we lean the bikes against the wall outside the cafe, an elderly gentleman named Orland Ferris comes out to greet us and invites us in for the best breakfast in Onawa. 37'