You might think I came out of my ¾ day rest in Little Rock with rompin’, stompin’, leg-ripping energy and power, but I did not. I didn’t panic, though, because I had come to expect to ride the first couple of hours of every day with legs of sand and that’s what I had [1] . The going was easy up through Maumelle, though, and I stopped at the first open place I could see that had breakfast, a Starbucks. I caught my breath when I walked in and all I saw in the display case were pastries. “I thought you guys had breakfast sandwiches with eggs in them,” I said. “We do, but they’re hard to come by so we don’t put them out on display,” replied the barista. “Could you describe the sandwiches you have?” I asked. I stopped her when she got to the one with sausage, egg and cheese on a muffin. “I’ll have three of those, please,” I said. “We may not have three,” she said, walking to wherever they had those things squirrelled away, presumably under lock and key. It was starting to feel like I ...