First, the injury: I was standing in front of the big wall-mounted heater in my motel room, trying to heat up my butt, and gazing distractedly at my iPad. Without looking up I decided to walk over to the chair and sit down.
KER-JAB !! "EEAAAAAGGGHH!!" I rammed my bare leg into the teeth of the gear on my recumbent. The pain was intense. Six little puncture wounds, covered with grease. I hobbled to the bathroom and scrubbed as much of the grease away as I could, then changed into my long underwear so I didn't bleed all over the inside of my sleeping bag.
It healed surprisingly well. Here's a photo from few days later:
Next: Waffles! Toledo had a waffle house just two miles from my room, so I decided to risk riding on my mortally wounded bicycle to get there. I had a chocolate-chip waffle and watched Jon Stewart make funny faces on the iPad. An easy day, after all those days of hard riding.
I made some phone calls and formed a plan: I would limp the bike over to the Avis rent-a-car establishment in the morning, four miles away, and rent a minivan. Using that I could blast through the remaining 600 miles of my route and get to Elmira in time to catch Erika disembarking from her plane at the airport. Then: Thanksgiving!