On my way into DC my front rack broke off. It was a long hot day and I still had to find somewhere to spend the night. My mood had taken a downward turn for the first time. Once again I was saved a kind stranger. He welcomed me into his home and I spent the following two nights with him and his equally welcoming house mates.
As for DC itself; I felt disconnected from it. I guess partially because my bike was on my mind and that the fact there was none of the neighbourhood mentality I experienced in the previous cities I visited.
The day I left DC was the hardest day I have experienced so far, the new bag arrangement meant the bike was off-balance. The new physical strain and humid weather almost broke my spirits...almost.