Since I started touring long before it was common and anybody bothered making policies for bicyclists, I lived by adaptability and persuasion, along with basically good human nature.

As I said, I've never been denied a place to sleep, but had plenty of interesting experiences.

One of my favorites involved trying to find either a sheltered place to camp, or an alternative in a medium sized town upstate. There was a storm brewing, so I had no desire to start looking elsewhere and headed to the police station for ideas. In the jail, no. Parking lot, no, In a corner of the town park, no. Finally I asked if there were any overpasses on the highway heading out of town, so we could sleep high in the embankment under the overpass, not there either.

Finally Sarge came out and said he had an idea. He handed me a slip of paper with an address and directions to a place nearby. We came to a home on the edge of town, knocked on the door, and were greeted by an odd look. We explained that Sarge sent us and said we'd be accommodated here. His wife who he hadn't bothered calling, handled it with amazing cool, and we enjoyed a great evening in their home.

Almost 50 years later I think of these wonderful folks and remember their graciousness, but more so his Chutzpah, and her coolness.