Days 63-67
August 7, 2005
Tonight I write to you from Louisville, Kentucky! The past few days were quite nice as I was able to skate through two states in five days. The miles are starting to fall away easier and easier the closer I get to home.
Wednesday I left St Louis and crossed the Mississippi into Illinois. I said I was about five miles from my next state; it ended up being a quarter of a mile. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could cross the river on a bridge right next to where I was staying. I got into Illinois and re-entered the world of friendly drivers. The re-entry only heightened my feelings about Missouri; it is truly an enigma. Just as quickly as I entered the little Missouri bubble of hostile daredevil drivers, I crossed the Mississippi and it was gone. As I rode along the little Illinois state road, on my way out of East St Louis, I was almost giddy with joy at the space people allowed me when they passed. I wanted to send them all thank you notes just for being so gracious. It’s funny the little things you take for granted – until you ride through Missouri…
Wednesday was also a great day for getting back to the bliss of not being confined to a set course. I left St Louis headed for one destination. As I felt my way out of East St Louis, I realized I was on course for a new destination. As I changed gears and headed for that little town, I called my Aunt who told me my Great Aunt and Uncle used to live there in Belleville, the town I was about to leave. So as I rode through Belleville, I decided to take a little detour over to Scott Air Force Base and see where Uncle Art was stationed over 35 years ago.
The little detour ended up being a little more than I anticipated, but definitely worth it. I was fortunate enough to spend some time with Uncle Art when I was little, but not nearly as much as I would have liked. From the stories of his brother, my Pop-Pop, he was an incredibly smart, savvy, and charming man. It was a neat feeling to ride around the town he and Ruth lived in so many years ago.
As I passed Scott AFB I saw a sign telling me I was headed for Centralia. I took a quick look at the atlas and decided let that be my final destination for the day. I got into town shortly before dusk, noticed the sun setting a little early than normal, found the town park, picked out a cozy little picnic table, and eventually fell asleep right there in my nasty cycling clothes, at least they were dry by then...
The next morning I woke up a little after 5:30 and went over to Hardee’s for breakfast with The Crew. I’ve come to find every town has their own version of The Crew. The Crew consists of a handful of older gentlemen who meet every morning at their local watering hole to watch the sun rise, read the paper, drink coffee, and solve the world’s problems. The Centralia Crew was very welcoming to me as I strolled in, still wiping the sleep from my eyes. They gave me directions for a new route over to Fairfield that wasn’t on the map, wished me well, and sent me on my way.
I got to Fairfield, my destination for the day around 11 that morning. As I pulled in I thought about covering a little more ground since it was so early. After lunch I swung by the library to hop on the internet and check my mail. As I sat in the library I noticed myself get real sleepy, I thought about taking a little nap there, under the guise of “reading a book,” but decided against it. Still unsure of what to do, I got on the bike and headed back for Main Street. As I rode down the street I saw a sign at a little motel for rooms at $35. I figured it was hot and early enough to get my $35 worth, and called it a day.
The next morning I woke up and headed over to the newspaper before I left. They were very interested in the story and were excited to do a feature in their paper. I swung by Pizza Hut for a little lunch buffet action and headed out of Fairfield. The next town I came to was Albion where I found another warm reception at the local paper. I chatted with Will, one of the reporters, he shot off a few pictures, and I kept on rolling. Two papers in one day, new record..!
Albion was also great for two ladies I met at the grocery store before I left. I didn’t mention it, but I burnt my leg back in St Louis. I was going to take a knee and get low to the ground to take the last picture I posted of St Louis, the one of the dimly lit alley. Steam coming out of one of the manhole covers is what drew my attention to the great scene; it was also what caused the burn. I ended up burning the right side of my leg, between my shin and my calf. At the time, I didn’t think it was as bad as it was but I later realized should have put some ointment or something on it. At least it’s a descent picture. Anyway, I went in the grocery store for some Neosporin and met two nice ladies, sisters. We chatted for a while and they invited me to stay with them that night at their farmhouse that had plenty of extra space. Having only traveled 15 miles and eager to get into Indiana, I graciously declined the invitation. But they were very nice and made me, once again, thankful to be in Illinois – that would have never happened in Missouri…
I stopped in Mt. Caramel for a great BBQ sandwich and Sweet Tea dinner, the first true Sweet Tea of the trip – definitely getting closer to home! – then hustled over the Wabash River to cross into Indiana.
I picked up a flat a half-mile from a motel outside of Princeton, my scheduled stop for the night. I noticed it was a somewhat of a slow leak so I pumped it up as much and as quickly as I could and gunned it over to the motel, either the leak was faster than I thought or I didn’t “gun” it as quick as I should have, I had to stop and put more air in it once more before getting to the Inn. It was that final flat that initiated the August fifth “Love Your Bike Night.”
I think the bike’s almost more ready to cross the Finish Line than I am. Love Your Bike Night was mainly a night of wheel-love. Somewhere along the way I caught a curb or something and put a nice bite into the sidewall of my rear wheel. That morning I noticed a little bubble of the inner tube poking out of that hole. So that night I made a nice custom tire patch of business cards and duct tape, it worked perfectly. I also patched that bite I picked up coming into Princeton and trued my front wheel a bit and got those brakes re-aligned.
Yesterday I got up and headed for English, Indiana. I took my time getting out of Princeton and took an extended break for dinner to call friends and such in Huntingburg; my slack approach to the miles of the day would later catch up with me. My rear tire went flat about ten miles out of Huntingburg. Having no fresh spare tubes, I had to patch it. I ran out of real patches back in Misery, I mean – Missouri, and had to use those old cheap, stick-on jobs I had problems with back in Oregon, to patch the tube the night before in Princeton. So I had a feeling, and wasn’t surprised, to find that cheap patch had given out and needed to be replaced. With sweat literally rolling off me, as if I just stepped out of the shower, I fixed it and got moving again.
I got to English around dusk and didn’t find any descent prospects to crash. I asked some ladies if there was anything up the road and they said there was an old motel 7 or 8 miles down in Morengo. It was getting late, but I decided to try and beat the setting sun and get to Morengo before dark.
I was about a mile out of English and I caught another flat. By this point it was near dark and I wasn’t in the mood for another flat. After a loud roar of frustration, I prayed for calmness and a swift repair. I think my prayer for calmness was answered in two brothers passing by on bikes of their own. They chatted with me as I patched the tire, with my last patch, and offered some distraction from my self-magnified dilemma. I said goodbye to the brothers, rigged up my rear light, and took off for Morengo in the dark.
Thankfully it didn’t take long at all to get to Morengo. I stopped by a gas station for a snack and a drink, found a little elementary school with a nice shelter of picnic tables, and set up camp for the night. It was the first night I gave myself an impromptu baby powder bath before lying down to sleep on another fabulous picnic table, and it was almost as refreshing as taking a real shower – just a little something to keep in mind if you ever find yourself in Morengo with only a bottle of baby powder to kick the funk...
This morning I got up early and got on the road for Kentucky. I was about halfway into the ride when I picked up yet another flat! They really stink. They especially stink when you are out of patches and/or spare tubes. I walked over to a little hardware store that I was amazed to find open at the early hour to see if they would, by any chance, have patches. They didn’t, so I had to improvise a little yet again. I ended up peeling an old patch of an old tube and carefully applying it to the new hole. Amazingly it worked!
I got to Kentucky and Louisville right around 11:30, had a nice lady check me into a place a little early, got ready to bring my bike over to my room, and found my rear tire was flat. The makeshift patch took me right up to the office of the hotel and died right there.
But it feels good to be so close. These past few days I’ve had a bit of tunnel vision, just focused on the end, and little things keep reminding me I’m getting closer. The sweet tea, dancing with interstate 64 since St Louis, being in the eastern time zone again, finally: they’re just small examples of the little reminders. Portions of the ride yesterday and today also reminded me of Virginia with their nice, lush hills of densely packed trees.
Today I also had my first real, great down since coming off Hoosier-Daddy. It was a mile and a half stretch down into New Albany, right on the Indiana-Kentucky border. It was a great winding road with a 5-7% down grade and reminded me of a lot of great moments of riding from the trip. The first thing it reminded me of the great down coming out of Grangeville. That’s still maybe the best one of the trip. It felt good to remember how nice the bike felt weaving in and out of those turns, as if we were sliding down a great silk carpet. It reminded me McKenzie, the hill coming out of Redmond, the ride into New Meadows, just so many things and all the things attached to those things. It became a little retrospective of the trip and reminded me of how fortunate I am to have created all those great memories and images for myself.
It really has been an amazing ride. And even as excited as I am to cross into VA and push to the Finish Line, I am a bit sad that it is drawing to a close. It seems like last summer that I flew out to Oregon to begin this trip, but at the same time, somehow, the trip has flown by at an incredible rate; it also feels like just last week I said goodbye to Chris & Chaz, and now they’re already home regrouping before they head off to school.
Well, if you’ve successfully read down to this point of the entry, congratulate yourself for completing your own test of endurance. Hopefully you’ve enjoyed my rambling account of the past few days. I’ll draw it to a close for now and wish you all a great week ahead. According to the timeline I just laid out a while ago, my week will culminate in crossing into VA on Friday - what a great day that will be!
Day 63: 68.99
Day 64: 55.04
Day 65: 49.24
Day 66: 79.11
Day 67: 39.82 Total: 3,176.01
Tonight I write to you from Louisville, Kentucky! The past few days were quite nice as I was able to skate through two states in five days. The miles are starting to fall away easier and easier the closer I get to home.
Wednesday I left St Louis and crossed the Mississippi into Illinois. I said I was about five miles from my next state; it ended up being a quarter of a mile. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could cross the river on a bridge right next to where I was staying. I got into Illinois and re-entered the world of friendly drivers. The re-entry only heightened my feelings about Missouri; it is truly an enigma. Just as quickly as I entered the little Missouri bubble of hostile daredevil drivers, I crossed the Mississippi and it was gone. As I rode along the little Illinois state road, on my way out of East St Louis, I was almost giddy with joy at the space people allowed me when they passed. I wanted to send them all thank you notes just for being so gracious. It’s funny the little things you take for granted – until you ride through Missouri…
Wednesday was also a great day for getting back to the bliss of not being confined to a set course. I left St Louis headed for one destination. As I felt my way out of East St Louis, I realized I was on course for a new destination. As I changed gears and headed for that little town, I called my Aunt who told me my Great Aunt and Uncle used to live there in Belleville, the town I was about to leave. So as I rode through Belleville, I decided to take a little detour over to Scott Air Force Base and see where Uncle Art was stationed over 35 years ago.
The little detour ended up being a little more than I anticipated, but definitely worth it. I was fortunate enough to spend some time with Uncle Art when I was little, but not nearly as much as I would have liked. From the stories of his brother, my Pop-Pop, he was an incredibly smart, savvy, and charming man. It was a neat feeling to ride around the town he and Ruth lived in so many years ago.
As I passed Scott AFB I saw a sign telling me I was headed for Centralia. I took a quick look at the atlas and decided let that be my final destination for the day. I got into town shortly before dusk, noticed the sun setting a little early than normal, found the town park, picked out a cozy little picnic table, and eventually fell asleep right there in my nasty cycling clothes, at least they were dry by then...
The next morning I woke up a little after 5:30 and went over to Hardee’s for breakfast with The Crew. I’ve come to find every town has their own version of The Crew. The Crew consists of a handful of older gentlemen who meet every morning at their local watering hole to watch the sun rise, read the paper, drink coffee, and solve the world’s problems. The Centralia Crew was very welcoming to me as I strolled in, still wiping the sleep from my eyes. They gave me directions for a new route over to Fairfield that wasn’t on the map, wished me well, and sent me on my way.
I got to Fairfield, my destination for the day around 11 that morning. As I pulled in I thought about covering a little more ground since it was so early. After lunch I swung by the library to hop on the internet and check my mail. As I sat in the library I noticed myself get real sleepy, I thought about taking a little nap there, under the guise of “reading a book,” but decided against it. Still unsure of what to do, I got on the bike and headed back for Main Street. As I rode down the street I saw a sign at a little motel for rooms at $35. I figured it was hot and early enough to get my $35 worth, and called it a day.
The next morning I woke up and headed over to the newspaper before I left. They were very interested in the story and were excited to do a feature in their paper. I swung by Pizza Hut for a little lunch buffet action and headed out of Fairfield. The next town I came to was Albion where I found another warm reception at the local paper. I chatted with Will, one of the reporters, he shot off a few pictures, and I kept on rolling. Two papers in one day, new record..!
Albion was also great for two ladies I met at the grocery store before I left. I didn’t mention it, but I burnt my leg back in St Louis. I was going to take a knee and get low to the ground to take the last picture I posted of St Louis, the one of the dimly lit alley. Steam coming out of one of the manhole covers is what drew my attention to the great scene; it was also what caused the burn. I ended up burning the right side of my leg, between my shin and my calf. At the time, I didn’t think it was as bad as it was but I later realized should have put some ointment or something on it. At least it’s a descent picture. Anyway, I went in the grocery store for some Neosporin and met two nice ladies, sisters. We chatted for a while and they invited me to stay with them that night at their farmhouse that had plenty of extra space. Having only traveled 15 miles and eager to get into Indiana, I graciously declined the invitation. But they were very nice and made me, once again, thankful to be in Illinois – that would have never happened in Missouri…
I stopped in Mt. Caramel for a great BBQ sandwich and Sweet Tea dinner, the first true Sweet Tea of the trip – definitely getting closer to home! – then hustled over the Wabash River to cross into Indiana.
I picked up a flat a half-mile from a motel outside of Princeton, my scheduled stop for the night. I noticed it was a somewhat of a slow leak so I pumped it up as much and as quickly as I could and gunned it over to the motel, either the leak was faster than I thought or I didn’t “gun” it as quick as I should have, I had to stop and put more air in it once more before getting to the Inn. It was that final flat that initiated the August fifth “Love Your Bike Night.”
I think the bike’s almost more ready to cross the Finish Line than I am. Love Your Bike Night was mainly a night of wheel-love. Somewhere along the way I caught a curb or something and put a nice bite into the sidewall of my rear wheel. That morning I noticed a little bubble of the inner tube poking out of that hole. So that night I made a nice custom tire patch of business cards and duct tape, it worked perfectly. I also patched that bite I picked up coming into Princeton and trued my front wheel a bit and got those brakes re-aligned.
Yesterday I got up and headed for English, Indiana. I took my time getting out of Princeton and took an extended break for dinner to call friends and such in Huntingburg; my slack approach to the miles of the day would later catch up with me. My rear tire went flat about ten miles out of Huntingburg. Having no fresh spare tubes, I had to patch it. I ran out of real patches back in Misery, I mean – Missouri, and had to use those old cheap, stick-on jobs I had problems with back in Oregon, to patch the tube the night before in Princeton. So I had a feeling, and wasn’t surprised, to find that cheap patch had given out and needed to be replaced. With sweat literally rolling off me, as if I just stepped out of the shower, I fixed it and got moving again.
I got to English around dusk and didn’t find any descent prospects to crash. I asked some ladies if there was anything up the road and they said there was an old motel 7 or 8 miles down in Morengo. It was getting late, but I decided to try and beat the setting sun and get to Morengo before dark.
I was about a mile out of English and I caught another flat. By this point it was near dark and I wasn’t in the mood for another flat. After a loud roar of frustration, I prayed for calmness and a swift repair. I think my prayer for calmness was answered in two brothers passing by on bikes of their own. They chatted with me as I patched the tire, with my last patch, and offered some distraction from my self-magnified dilemma. I said goodbye to the brothers, rigged up my rear light, and took off for Morengo in the dark.
Thankfully it didn’t take long at all to get to Morengo. I stopped by a gas station for a snack and a drink, found a little elementary school with a nice shelter of picnic tables, and set up camp for the night. It was the first night I gave myself an impromptu baby powder bath before lying down to sleep on another fabulous picnic table, and it was almost as refreshing as taking a real shower – just a little something to keep in mind if you ever find yourself in Morengo with only a bottle of baby powder to kick the funk...
This morning I got up early and got on the road for Kentucky. I was about halfway into the ride when I picked up yet another flat! They really stink. They especially stink when you are out of patches and/or spare tubes. I walked over to a little hardware store that I was amazed to find open at the early hour to see if they would, by any chance, have patches. They didn’t, so I had to improvise a little yet again. I ended up peeling an old patch of an old tube and carefully applying it to the new hole. Amazingly it worked!
I got to Kentucky and Louisville right around 11:30, had a nice lady check me into a place a little early, got ready to bring my bike over to my room, and found my rear tire was flat. The makeshift patch took me right up to the office of the hotel and died right there.
But it feels good to be so close. These past few days I’ve had a bit of tunnel vision, just focused on the end, and little things keep reminding me I’m getting closer. The sweet tea, dancing with interstate 64 since St Louis, being in the eastern time zone again, finally: they’re just small examples of the little reminders. Portions of the ride yesterday and today also reminded me of Virginia with their nice, lush hills of densely packed trees.
Today I also had my first real, great down since coming off Hoosier-Daddy. It was a mile and a half stretch down into New Albany, right on the Indiana-Kentucky border. It was a great winding road with a 5-7% down grade and reminded me of a lot of great moments of riding from the trip. The first thing it reminded me of the great down coming out of Grangeville. That’s still maybe the best one of the trip. It felt good to remember how nice the bike felt weaving in and out of those turns, as if we were sliding down a great silk carpet. It reminded me McKenzie, the hill coming out of Redmond, the ride into New Meadows, just so many things and all the things attached to those things. It became a little retrospective of the trip and reminded me of how fortunate I am to have created all those great memories and images for myself.
It really has been an amazing ride. And even as excited as I am to cross into VA and push to the Finish Line, I am a bit sad that it is drawing to a close. It seems like last summer that I flew out to Oregon to begin this trip, but at the same time, somehow, the trip has flown by at an incredible rate; it also feels like just last week I said goodbye to Chris & Chaz, and now they’re already home regrouping before they head off to school.
Well, if you’ve successfully read down to this point of the entry, congratulate yourself for completing your own test of endurance. Hopefully you’ve enjoyed my rambling account of the past few days. I’ll draw it to a close for now and wish you all a great week ahead. According to the timeline I just laid out a while ago, my week will culminate in crossing into VA on Friday - what a great day that will be!
Day 63: 68.99
Day 64: 55.04
Day 65: 49.24
Day 66: 79.11
Day 67: 39.82 Total: 3,176.01
posted by SuperByron3000 at 8/07/2005
1 Comments:
sorry you burned your leg, but it was an awesome photo!!!
Natalie
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