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Bike from Oregon to Virginia, June/July 1999 Day 39: Chanute, Kansas to Golden City, Missouri We are leaving Kansas today, but its not so bad anymore. Well, ok it is but at least we are back on the Transamerica route, which means no more major highways. Unlike flat, dry, hot and brown western Kansas, eastern Kansas is rolling, humid, hot and green. Some of the roads even have curves, that is nice. On a sad note we gone from seeing deer, squirrel and skunk carrion to turtles, armadillos and birds. What is worst dead animal I have seen on this trip, it is probably a tie. In Wyoming we saw a deer that had its head cut clean off not a couple feet from the road. I suppose someone hit it and then took the head as a trophy but Colorado yielded and even sadder sight. Three cute little yellow and furry ducks laid dead, not 6 feet from the one another. Stuff not to forget: stone hostel with AC, washer/drier, shower; couple from Holland (he was 68 and she was 65 and it is their 3rd trip); couple from Holland telling us about the couple we met from the Netherlands, how he is famous for the 11-city 140-mile ice river skate; and cycling 33 miles in 100 degree humid weather to get here and win the race to the Missouri state line.
Day 40: Golden City, Missouri to Ash Grove, Missouri What can I say, the glory is back! Once again riding is a pleasure and I must say I owe it all to Missouri. Since leaving Hoosier Pass on day 30 I found the roads to be straight, the wind in my face and the scenery brown, dry and dull. Although I bitched a lot about not liking Kansas, and urged my cohorts to go further and faster, I worried that my depression would carry over into Missouri. More bluntly, I believed that I was just sick and tired of riding and the trip in general and not even the most beautiful terrain would help. But then, about 30 miles into Missouri, I found Golden City. Fewer than 1000 people live in town and they didn't have a community pool but their hostel certainly made up for it. Two men, one a mortician and the other the director of the Wyatt House (for eight developmentally disabled men and women) bought a small stone house right in the center of town and turned it into a bicycle only hostel, just for those like me. It has four beds with clean sheets, the shower had fresh towels, the kitchen was spotless and the air conditioning was cold. Even my clothes enjoyed the stay as I washed them at no charge in the washing machine. All that is asked of those who stay is that they leave $9 in a coffee can. What has prompted my change of heart, the terrain of course. Having grown up and lived in beautiful places the plains of Kansas and Colorado were tough for me to stomach. So far riding in Missouri can best be likened to riding a roller coaster. One steep downhill leads to a steep uphill, all with curves, flowers and trees. Flowers, it seems as if I haven't seen wild flowers in profusion since Colorado (before Hoosier Pass) but they certainly are back. Trees, they line the road and although I was dripping with sweat from the humidity, just looking into the dark recesses under the canopy of the trees made me feel much cooler.
But don't despair my Poobie, for I still wish to finish this trek as soon as possible, it's just that now I believe I will enjoy finishing. In fact this morning I even told Kevin that towards the end of the trip I was probably going to set out on my own and we had a good chat about it. Even better, at the hostel someone heading east to west had left the first three chapters of the Ikenberry book that details the route from Virginia to Oregon. Of course this means that Kevin and Ned don't need to know that I ordered maps behind their backs. Given the limited means of those who take orders at Adventure Cycling it also means that if they screwed up my map order, again, it doesn't even matter, I can just use the book (I have the Illinois, Kentucky and Virginia chapters). Going through Kansas we saw a lot of dead turtles, which was sad, but also puzzling as I associate them with water, not dry grassland. Regardless, it turns out that Kansas has quite a few ponds (mostly man made) in their plains. Now you know water and me but I wouldn't go near these things with a ten foot stick. I imagine ones first step would lead to one sinking up to their ankle in mud, yuck. Which leads us to Missouri and the swimming opportunities here. About 15 miles out of Golden City we rode by a rocky area that was perhaps and old quarry. Clear, cool water had filled the void forming a beautiful lake. Although only 15 miles into the day I stripped and swam. It couldn't have been any better.
As we have only gone 38 miles and are done for the day I suppose this is a rest day that I neither need nor want. At this point, even another day without you is tough to fathom. But I do, because soon we will be to Chester, Illinois and I will leave the boys behind, riding from dawn to dusk, to my Poobie. Before I forget, Missouri has magically repaired my bike. For about a week or more every turn of the cranks has produced squeaking. Upon reaching the bike shop in Wichita I was told that it was due to my chain being stretched that seemed to be a reasonable explanation. Then as we rolled out of Golden City this morning I guess I forgot to pack the squeak because it is gone (good riddance) and my bike is purring. Yay! I have just done some calculations and come up with the following numbers. Less than 300 miles remain between me and my maps in Chester, Illinois. Covering that distance with Kevin and Ned should take about 4 days at which point I will bolt. Less than 1300 miles will remain between a plane home and me and I will cover the distance (or try) in less than 2 weeks. As today is day 40, adding 4 days to Chester and 14 more days to the eastern seaboard means my trip will be over after 58 days on the road, almost 2 weeks less than the originally planned 70 days. Covering the extra mileage in the last 2 weeks doesn't worry me, at this point I can go 100 miles a day in my sleep. 5:00 pm is the time and my affliction is pool overload. Don't get me wrong, after a ride in which you become hot, sweaty and sticky the pools feel great but we have been at this one since before it opened at 1:00 pm and I believe we will remain until 7:00 pm. Even then all we are going to do is roll our bikes 200 meters to where we will pitch our tents for the night. Many more miles could have been covered today, which would have brought me even closer to you. Day 41: Ash Grove, Missouri to Marshfield, Missouri
Of course each day without you becomes exponentially more difficult to deal with but beautiful Missouri makes it manageable. In fact, yesterday my only complaint would have to be that we didn't ride enough. And, once again, today the same holds true. But so much happened today that I don't really know were to begin… Despite spending 7 hours at the pool yesterday sleep eluded me, as I was too hot. Nonetheless, at 6:00 am the tent was unzipped and out I came. The terrain was as it was yesterday and I was enjoying myself despite the fact that I mistakenly repacked my squeak. And then it happened; riding up one of Missouri's famous roller coaster hills I heard a "pop"! Dismounting at the top my worst fears were realized when I found I had broken yet another spoke. Certainly I was discouraged but as I had already ridden over 100 miles with a broken spoke (from Wyoming into Colorado) I figured I would just do it again. I mounted my bike and began riding, and then about 15 minutes later I heard it again, "pop!". Now utter despair set in as I had broken a second spoke, my bike was still rideable but with two broken spokes my horse was akin to the Volvo after your Dad ruined the wheel, failure was eminent. When Kevin and Ned caught up I consulted the map for the nearest bike shop only to find that it was about 300 miles away in Illinois. With two broken spokes I had no chance in hell of covering that distance. What would I do? Many thoughts raced through my head as I rode the few miles into the next town, chief among them, hitchhiking to the bike shop in Illinois and then waiting for Kevin and Ned to catch up. But that solution was flawed on many fronts including that I still had to get my maps in Chester, Illinois that was before the bike shop in Carbondale, Illinois. Another problem was that I had very much enjoyed riding through Missouri and the idea of hitchhiking through the rest of it was not appealing. But there was still a larger problem. It was in Illinois that I planned on breaking from Kevin and Ned to see what life alone on the road is like and more importantly, to get home to my Poobie more quickly. It wouldn't be right to either tell the guys goodbye now but I also couldn't wait for them in Illinois. Clearly I was stumped. Another option that I very seriously considered was calling my brother and having him ship his bike out to me. Either way, sitting in front of the grocery store in this little town I was positive that I wouldn't be riding for the next couple of days and that hitchhiking to Chester and then Carbondale would be my next move. Across from the market was a gas station were I purchased a Missouri state map and began to look for the best place to wait for my ride. As it turns out, I wouldn't wait long. A large red and white Ford 4x4 truck pulled up while I had my nose in the map and suddenly Don, a man of 50 or 60 years, was asking questions. One thing led to another and within minutes all of our bikes and us were in his truck headed to Springfield, Illinois and the oldest bike shop in town, the A&B. Ned rode up front with Don while Kevin and myself rode in back with the bikes. Although only 16 miles from the little town, Springfield was a world away; a city of almost 1/4 million people. As we drove through the urban nightmare I was glad, no ecstatic, not to be cycling. Don couldn't tell a Huffy from a Trek but he did take us to a spectacular shop, the A&B. Within minutes T.J. had given me the different options for replacing my wheel and once I decided he had it fixed up right away and didn't even charge me for the labor (Just as an aside, my wheel became screwed up when either the mechanic in Hamilton or Frisco trued it and tightened the spokes too much. As you can not loosen the spokes my wheel was ruined, causing spokes to break about every 200 miles). All the while, Don was wandering around the bike shop, chatting with each of us, just as happy as a clam. After my bike was repaired we loaded it back in Don's truck and headed back to the supermarket where we met not a few hours ago. But wait, this doesn't seem like the way came, where are we going? To Don's house it turns out, were we got fresh produce (tomatoes and zucchini) from his 50 foot by 150 foot passion, met his wife and sipped lemonade on their porch. I'm not kidding, this all happened and finally Don drove us back to the supermarket. Missouri roads are a roller coaster and today so were my emotions; but with the likes of Don, I ended the day on top. Let's hope I can stay up there for a while.
Just a quick food note… Outside the market some women were selling bratwurst dogs for $1 to raise money for the school. Always one to help out a good cause I bought one and found it delicious as did Ned. Peer pressure forced Kevin to buy one. Once in the market we began the usual routine of "what do you want?", "I don't know, what do you want?" Sometimes the game is fun but not tonight and I promptly went outside and bought my dinner, 3 more bratwursts. After eating them I went back in the market and found that Kevin and Ned had only picked up milk, cereal and fruit for breakfast, still totally undecided about dinner. Ned quickly dropped out of the game and bought himself potato salad, cottage cheese and bananas while Kevin eventually settled on a pound of sliced Oscar Meyer Ham and Water Product, cream cheese and bagels. What's my point, I wish I was shopping with you. Day 42: Marshfield, Missouri to Licking, Missouri Last night it finally happened. After hearing about the 4 girls from Virginia from every west bound rider since day 1 we finally caught them. Actually, they caught us as we passed them somewhere in Kansas. The meeting occurred at the Marshfield city park around dusk while we were preparing for bed. Our plans of getting up early were quickly scratched as we watched them go through their set up camp and food preparation ritual. As they cooked 2 pounds of elbow noodle pasta and ate it quickly became evident that they are going through the exact same predicaments as us with slow riders versus fast riders, slow eaters versus fast eaters, etc. After they finished their pasta (actually, quite a bit was left over) they were kind enough to share their apple pie with us. Then we all hit the hay.
Compared to the night before I slept like a baby. Although it was still too warm for me, I was able to offset that with a cold shower. Day 43: Licking, Missouri to Pilot Knob, Missouri Yesterday we rode as a gang, 3 guys from California and 4 girls from Virginia. With 7 people you can take up a lot of road (and we did). Around midday or a little later I found myself at a junction waiting for everyone to catch up. Being quite thirsty I backtracked to the nearest house and soon found myself sipping cold water and enjoying the shade. Then, out of my oasis came "Do you know that Jesus Christ is our savior?". This nice man turned out to be a pastor at the local church and he was very concerned that I not go to hell. I very politely ignored him until he left me to sit in a chair, under a tree, sipping water, waiting for the gang. Yesterday we got off of the main route again at the urging of the older European couple (not the klomps) and started heading east on 32. The only problem with getting off the route is that you are never very sure where you can get food and camp; Licking was no exception. A town of 4000, they had a city park but wouldn't let us camp there. One of the Virginia girls called the local sheriff and he told us we could camp at a rest stop, less than 1/2 a mile away. Once we arrived we found it initially quite pleasing; trees, green grass, restrooms and an adjacent corn field all said, "welcome" and "enjoy your stay". Unfortunately, rain looked eminent and the bathrooms, upon further inspection, were disgusting. The sinks had running water but as luck would have it, once it left the basin it drained right onto your feet. I used the drinking fountain outside. While cooking rice for our burritos I began setting up my tent, and just in time. Rain, in big drops, began to fall but as I was hot and sticky (and all my gear was safe and dry in my tent) all my clothes came off except for my after riding cargo shorts and I had a rain dance/bath. In stark contrast, the Virginia girls sat around in their waterproof jackets. So that was yesterday, lets see what I can recall about today. We left Licking and rode about 20 miles till a Super Wal-Mart were we bought lunch and I got another lexan spoon. Looking through plastic at a USA Today outside of the store I saw a headline that caused me to shell out 50 cents for the nations newspaper. Lance Armstrong, an American, is going to win the Tour du France! After Wal-Mart we rode another hour or two until the small town of Boss. As I was the first to arrive I chose where we would eat our lunch, a clear little river under a bridge just before town. Before everyone else arrived I changed into my cargo shorts and soaked in the river. I also had time to rinse my riding clothes and set them to dry on the rocky river bed. Everyone liked eating by the river although only Ned took full advantage of the water like myself; everyone else just soaked his or her feet. While lunching I was amazed to learn that the Virginia girls hadn't been in any rivers yet! As you know, for the first 3 or 4 weeks of the trip we followed pristine rivers and went in them every night. Of course they were often freezing cold but the refreshment far outweighed the pain (especially for my feet). Lunch was a wonderful affair. While sitting cross legged in the river (with water up to my tummy) I ate two bagels with avocado, tomato, salt and pepper plus one bagel with peanut butter and honey and finally two nectarines. Really, I must buy food for myself more often. Lunch being eaten, we set off again and to my delight we had a summer rain. Although we had certainly been sprinkled on before during the adventure this was our first time riding in a full bore rain. So what did I do? I took off my clothes and sprinted ahead. As the warm rain fell in buckets I rode on wearing only my shoes, socks, cycling shorts and helmet; my jersey and gloves being stowed in my panniers. Other than my shoes and socks getting soaked I had a great time and even forgot how humid it was. Then I saw the New York girls (Lucy and Catherine) just as I was coming out of the rain. With their bikes on the side of the road I assumed they were taking a break but in reality Lucy was ready to have a mental breakdown. In the past 2 days she had gotten 5 flat tires, this being the second one today. And both herself and Catherine were finding Missouri miserable. Although she was still cordial it was easy to tell that the next little thing would either cause her to cry or kill someone so it didn't help that after myself the rest of the group (6 more in all) rolled up individually and had to be appraised of the situation. For about an hour we waited along the side of the road, assuming that we would all ride together once she fixed her flat but in that time she patched the hole about 4 times, put the tire back on and pumped it up only to find it didn't hold air. Eventually, at her urging we left them as we found them, on the side of the road, and planned to meet at Pilot Knob, Missouri.
Leaving Catherine and Lucy we rode to Pilot Knob with the highlight of that portion of the trip being myself setting of an alarm at a school while filling my water bottle. The school was at a junction so I had to endure the noise for over 15 minutes while waiting for the group to catch up (I didn't touch anything, honest!). A grocery store was located in Pilot Knob and since Kevin wanted to make soup I promptly bought a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey and proceeded to eat it while we shopped. Poobie, Kevin and I have very different ideas regarding food. For his soup he planned on using bullion cubes (which we already had), vegetables and rice. That's it! I inquired how he planned on getting full and he said at home he mostly eats vegetables. Geez, I wonder why you're always hungry, Kevin. For some reason or another Ned and myself starting chatting with Amy, a women about our age working behind the deli counter who recently moved here from St. Louis with her parents. At some point I asked what she was going to do with all of the left over deli food… can you see were this is going? Poobie, we left the store with 5 Styrofoam containers (the 3 compartment lunch type) filled with corn, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese and 2 filled with pork and stuffing. We rode to the RV park / motel with at least 10 pounds of the stuff that Amy said, would just "have been thrown away". Rolling into the RV park/motel we were glad to see that Lucy and Catherine had made it but I most enjoyed all nine of us sitting around the 5 containers and pigging out. It was a photo opportunity I could not pass up. That's it for now, finally, I am back up to date. Tomorrow we will ride 9 people strong across the great Mississippi and into Illinois, our 8th state. Likewise, in Chester, I should get my maps from the post office so I can strike out on my own. Currently I'm thinking of staying with the group until I have 1000 miles left and then bolting, covering the distance in under 10 days. From Yorktown, Virginia I will take a bus to BWI where Southwest Airlines will wisk me home, to my Poobie. You will fly up for a long weekend to visit and we will drive back down south along the coast. Although I am very much enjoying the riding part of the trip again I can't wait to see you.
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