I am not fond of bridges. Today we rode 60 km on a bike path that must have had at least 50 wooden bridges along the way. The wooden slats bounced, rattled and shook as we rode across spans of highway traffic, railroads and waterways.
We were in the suburbs of chicago and therefore we saw no cornfields today but we did encounter lots of traffic. At the end of the bike path we climbed a set of stairs (portaging again) and were met at the top by an officer on a bicycle. He stopped the traffic for us and escorted us up the hill. It was a really nice gesture on his part. We were his 11th trip up the hill, after which he asked us, "How many of you are there?!" I'm sure he was very tired by the end of the day.