Who Says You Can't Go Home?

I spent 12 years growing up in a town called Little Silver and went to high school in Red Bank, the town we are in at my brother's house. He never left the area except for 4 years in the Air Force and a miserable time living in Miami for a year back in the early 70s.
Today, Bruce met us in Lakehurst and led us back 31 miles to his house where we are going to lay low until Friday morning.
The ride from Ocean City (we spent the night in Atlantic City but drove south to start the day) took us through a couple of state parks and forests and it was great not to have to fight 18-wheelers and tour busses for space on the road. In fact it was so quiet on the road today that I actually was able to listen to music while riding for close to an hour.
We also encountered our first "rollers" of the trip. A roller is a short climb followed by a descent quickly followed up another ascent. Fortunately the dozen or so we rode were not large or long and we breezed through easily.
About an hour from meeting Bruce, we passed through the bustling town of Chatsworth, population 2 families. And both were involved with the restaurant, err., hot dog cart which was parked on the sidewalk of the main through street we were on. So, we treated ourselves to a scrumptous, undercooked hot dog and a cold can of Coke. I'll let you know when the taste disappears for good.
The hot dog, not the soda.
Wound up with 90 miles more today and my total on the odometer is just 2 dozen or so less than the 1,000 miles I had expected to be at already.

The "restaurant" in Chatsworth. At least the soda was cold.

Thursday is not a travel day unless you want to count the miles we will be sailing with Bruce on the river. Then we get another Massage Envy massage (second of three we are receiving) before heading out to Manhattan early Friday.