John and I make rules as we travel as we have various experiences. One rule is we don’t plan on camping in a spot if we can’t talk to a real live person about it. We made that rule after getting to one of our earlier camping spots to discover we would be camping in a weed patch with no water and no bathroom. Our new rule after last night is no motel rooms in basements. We stayed in Beach, North Dakota, and because of all the workers there working in the oil fields there wasn’t much available so we settled on a room in a Motel that was low class to say the least, and the room was in the basement. Patty my wife suffers with asthma, and has attacks often. My daughter Sherri does as well. Well last night I had my very first ever asthma attack. I woke up in the middle of the night gasping for air struggling to breath. I didn’t know what was happening and as I came fully awake I thought I must be having a heart attack. I thought about what I could do, and not knowing what that would be I assumed I was going to die. I thought, here I come Jesus, I hope You are as glad to see me as I will be to see You. I thought also, this sure is going to mess up John’s bicycle trip. I laid there for a few more minutes struggling to breath, and then I began doing what I did sky diving when it was hard to breath as well. I pushed as much air out as I could slowly and then breathed in slow and filled my lungs as full as I could. After a few minutes of this I decided it wasn’t a heart attack after all but was very much like what Patty had often. I got up and got a big drink of water and went back to bed though I didn’t sleep much after that. Once we got to riding every thing cleared up and I feel fine now, but no more dank motel rooms in basements.