Communities across the country welcomed us and fed us, and some even issued official proclamations in Baker’s honor. In the Midwest, eyes would get wide when people learned we were riding from San Diego to NYC. “A hundred years ago today, Cannon Ball Baker rode right down this street,” I’d say, as much to relish the idea of it myself as to paint a picture for them. In one poignant moment, Emde led us on a wet, overcast morning to Baker's gravesite in his native Indianapolis, where we again felt the touch of history’s hand. Just outside Columbus, Ohio, after visiting the AMA museum, we stopped at K&C Cycle, owned and operated by Dick Klamfoth, a three-time Daytona 200 winner. I asked Dick if he ever met Baker. “Oh, yes,” he said, “Many times. He’d come to my pit and say hello and kind of pay his respects from one fast guy to another, I suppose.” As I shook Klamfoth’s hand, it dawned on me that I was speaking with a man who had met Cannon Ball Baker—a personal, human connection to the amazing man we were honoring on this ride.