It was the first day in a week and a half to feel hot. Kind of sneaky though because it didn't start that way. We left the hotel for a Google recommended breakfast spot called, The Spot. I don't know how you can serve a five dollar breakfast, but they do. A five dollar breakfast, though, isn't enough to get a person 70 miles down the road. In fact, not quite 55 even. We ran out of gas about three miles west of West Jefferson which was our scheduled lunch stop. The problem was a combination of things that began with no lunch yesterday and no great concern about it since it was only a 42 mile day. Then a fabulous dinner with Cincinnati family but small portions. We didn't really realize the undernourishment until today when all three of us felt flat and like we were struggling. We had to sit for a few in a shady spot outside of West Jefferson but when we got to town, Lauren found what proved to be an excellent Italian restaurant. I think I drank four sweet teas and six glasses of water before lunch came. It was fantastic. That left us fifteen miles to go to Columbus. Our timing could have been better for arrival. We rode into town in the middle of rush hour traffic. Even though we were on a bike route, in a marked lane, we had one car and one bus that convinced themselves we were not actually there. You know the driver is willfully plying with your life when they drive past the rider in back, brushing them, to get to the rider in the front to brush them too. The woman driving the car was not on her phone, was not turning her radio dial or lighting a cigarette. Maybe she works in a mortuary and things have been slow. The bus I can't figure out though. The bus cut me off in the bike lane to stop in front of me, then push me out into traffic as I rode past. I can assure you there was no way the driver didn't see me waving and yelling. I don't think some people realize how their lives would change if they killed a cyclist.