Breakfast today was in a great little cafe called (I think) Nita's cafe, run by Nita for the past 40 or 50yrs. Inside we were served by a lady, who at first seemed a little, well.., not on the ball but we soon realised she was just a little dry in humour - not something we have come across much here. We had massive bowls of oatmeal, fruit and toast and of course the ubiquitous cups of bottomless coffee (I justify that they are good for the cycling).
Today's cycle was fairly dull - no great vistas, or climbs or descents - just Steady Eddy all the way to Centralia. The weather was continually overcast but it never came down on us. The roads were straight and relatively boring. This cycle felt like an exercise in getting from A to B. After Shelton we were worried that Centralia may be equally unexciting. You should not of course judge a book by it's cover, but when there is nothing but you and your bike for hundreds of miles you have to think about something ;-) Talking of which Tim has taken to chanting times tables at moments of difficulty, where as I have resorted to recording my journey in km but writing my route cues in miles so that I can convert the numbers as I am cycling along! It is good to keep the mind active - if I was better at multi-tasking then maybe I would knit or read a book.
At the mid-point we got yet another flat. This time we were mighty quick at changing the flat. It looked like it was going to rain and we had seen a few snakes so I was keen to help this time ;-) Cycling parallel to route 12 the areas started to become more rural. Through Elma and Oakville I lost count of the number of dogs that ran to the end of their leashes or into the wired fences caging them in, attempting to get at our heels. It is amazing the turn of speed to you can make when they make it onto the road and chase you for a few hundred yards. In yet more 'I'm alright Jack' style, this time I pedalled off like speed lightening leaving the chivalrous Tim to deal with the danger of savage dogs...
As we cycled through Rochester the houses became nicer and the chase dogs relented. My heart rate stopped hitting the roof and things look optimistic. We made Centralia with no more incidents, apart from finding the visitor centre didn't actually exist in the Amtrak station (good old lonely planets). We cycled a block down and happened upon a great hotel called the Olympic Club Hotel and Bar. Each room commemorates a significant character from the Olympic Club's history, the most famous of whom is Roy Gardner, the notorious train robber captured in the hotel in 1921.
The rooms had brilliant prose about your rooms character. Our room only had a skylight for daylight but it's darkness exuded a certain charm. The down side was the almighty racket the Amtrak trains make passing through stations, but after curry and two desserts we slept like logs. 
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