I bid farewell to ol' Kentucky

To anyone who doesn't know what my title is in reference to (beyond the fact that I am no longer in Kentucky), here you go-

I think that at last update, I was in eastern Kentucky still getting chased by dogs and coal trucks.  Yep, I think I had another day or two of that, but it eventually passed.  I'd say the change in landscape really took place after say, Booneville, KY.  I also had an exceptional evening in Berea, KY which set the new stage.  Mike Zehr had told me earlier that his cousin Ginny and her husband, John, lived in Berea and might be willing to host me for an evening.  Once in their area, I contacted Ginny and John and they were absolutely delighted to have me over!  When I first arrived, Ginny admitted that she "wasn't too sure what cyclists want or need" and then began ply me with several cups of ice cold lemonade.  And then show me to a shower and washer/dryer.  And then John and Ginny made a delicious dinner.  And then we sat around a campfire and ate s'mores.  And she showed me to a guest room with a real bed!  Ginny and John- trust me, you two know EXACTLY what a travelling cyclist loves!  We also had the opportunity to discuss coon dogs which John breeds and look over the remainder of my route as they know some folks in Kansas and Idaho.  I couldn't have asked for a nicer evening or for two nicer people to spend it with.  And keep in mind, that I was a complete stranger to them before I rolled up!

(Mike-  John and Ginny live less than 1/2 mile from the TransAmerica route.  They made me promise that you and I would spend the night again when we ride the route next year.)

Once I departed Berea, the land started flattening out.  Not pancake flat yet, but compared to the steep thousand foot climbs with narrow twisty roads that I had just done it felt like Kansas already.  I was able to start riding for long stretches in my drops and in the big ring.  (The "drops" are the lower part of bullhorn type handlebars that let you get lower and more aerodynamic.  The "big ring" is the biggest gear in front which is next to impossible to use when going uphill but on long flat sections you can use it to go fairly fast.)  I couldn't help but think that my friend Jeef would love this riding right now because I think it's his favorite.  Just tuck into a ball and pedal at 12-15 mph for an hour or so.  The only downside to it getting flatter is that the wind picks up and so far it has been blowing against me.  Again, I found myself wishing that someone such as Jeef was riding with me.  With multiple people, you can take turns pedaling in front while others draft behind you, just like geese fly in formation and switch out in front over time.  Accordingly, I put in three days in a row that registered 92 miles, 103 miles and 82 miles.  Now that I am in Illinois, it seems to have gotten a little hillier.  Once I get into Missouri (I think by tomorrow actually) it will get steeper again through the Ozarks.

If you look closely, you can see my welcoming party already out on the road ahead.  Hindman, KY

C'mon, really?  All you had to do was switch them.  Dwarf, KY

Patrick, a Brit heading East, outside Mel's Diner  where we had breakfast and discussed America.  His site can be found here.  Booneville, KY

Ginny and John Veeder, my two new friends and bicycle host extraordinaires!  Berea, KY

Lunch break: time set aside for the transmis(s)ion of food to my mouth

This Kodak moment was made possible by Lucien B. Smith, the inventor of barbed wire.

Sorry Ieva.  Still no more sheep sightings.  Maybe these burros/donkeys will temporarily appease you?

On a hot day when I was riding 90 miles, I started having a conversation with an imaginary cyclist about where we should eat tonight.  We both agreed that we should go to "the Mexican restaurant".  Alas, I knew that there would be no Mexican places to be found in central Kentucky.  Then, in Hogdenville, the birthplace of Abraham Lincoln, I struck paydirt.

There is a gas station at some unnamed crossroads whose policy is to give all cyclists a free freezie pop.  This is the best policy I have ever heard of.

So you're telling me that I can stay in your air conditioned fire department, alone and unsupervised and use a shower, laundry, mattress and kitchen?  Yes, that's what they told me.  Utica, KY

I was trying to capture all of the different horizontal layers that I was looking at while sitting on the side of the road.  I wish my brother Greg, a photographer, was along to take some photos sometimes where I just don't think I got what I was looking at.

These roads were make for truckin' and that's just what they'll do.  One of these days  I'm gonna go Long Haul Truckin' over you.

Alex, another eastbound Brit, who gave me some extra water when I miscalculated how much I would need.  Now I try to carry about one liter per ten miles of riding.  Sounds like too much?  Go ride a 100lb bicycle in 95+ degree heat for a while.  His site can be found here.

Just crossing the Ohio River by ferry to Cave In Rock, IL.

I bet Jesus could still oust Mitt Romney for the nomination if he threw his hat in the ring.  Provided he's Republican.  I'm really not sure.

Dessert connoisseurs will recognize this as "a piece of cherry a la mode".  At Delaney's, all cyclists get free dessert.  Another exceptional policy.  Goreville, IL 

When worlds collide

As I rounded the corner on my bicycle, the only thing that I could see was the dog.  A heavy set black Labrador standing poised for action with a slight bend in it's back.  The hairs stood up on the back of the dog's neck and a slight growl was audible.  "No!" I stated loudly as I ratcheted my gears in order to begin a speedy takeoff with the hopes of outrunning the beast.  It was at that moment I noticed the man sitting in a chair underneath the tree, chuckling to himself while saying something to calm the dog.  Sheepishly, I stopped my bike and said hello to him.

"She don't quite like bicycles." he said.  "She don't like cars much neither."  The dog continued to utter a low growl towards me and I checked to make sure that I was on pavement and not actually in the dog's yard.  The man commented on how hot of a day that it was and asked if I wanted a pop or some Gatorade.  I politely decline since the dog was still making me a bit uneasy and what I really wanted was to get away from it.  But then as the man and I began to converse, she calmed down and trotted up to the stoop of the house to lay down in the shade, content that I was not a threat.

Old Case knife found on the side of a Kentucky road

Only when the man got up and shuffled over to me with the assistance of a cane did I realize that he was quite old.  As he got closer, I saw a man who had weathered many years and much hard labor.  He extended his hand in greeting and his strong grip belied his years and reflected the farming culture surrounding us.  His arm was blotted and discolored from hours out in the sun.  Likewise his right ear seemed to suffer from additional sun induced decay.  But his eyes were piercing and his voice still strong and authoritative.  I introduced myself and he countered with "M'name's Riley B_.  M'name's Riley B_." repeating himself not out of confusion but to ensure that I remembered it.

He commented on how dry it had been which prompted me to ask if he was a farmer and the surrounding land his fields.  "Yep.  This is all my property.  Bought it when I got married 63 years ago.  Been farming it for 63 years.  Slowing down now.  It's about time that I turn it over to my sons."  His three sons and other extended family members all live on adjacent properties.  This was reinforced by the driver of every car smiling and waving to him with genuine care and familiarity as they passed.  Despite the passing cars, Riley had some business to attend to.  "Doc gave me a water pill to take so's I got to make some water.  'Scuse me."  With that he half turned and urinated on the side of the road.  When the majority of the neighbors are your immediate family, I realized that it indeed didn't matter.

As I described my life and my previous jobs and the trip I was undertaking, Riley looked longingly at my bike.  "I don't know what a vacation is.  I ain't never taken one.  Just worked every day for 63 years."  He said this without a trace of bitterness or accusation in his voice.  "I wish that I could hop on a bicycle and follow along with ya.  I ain't never been out West."  He proceeded to name the handful of surrounding states that he had visited while of course driving a truck for farm work.  "I can't drive much no more.  Can't see the road signs 'til they're next to me.  My two docs don't want me to drive no more.  But I can't bike with ya neither cause of my health."  He proceeded to list several ailments including bypass surgery and multiple hernias that he had endured.

He offered again with the pop or Gatorade so I took him up on it.  Riley walked off and returned with a Diet Coke, realizing a bit of the humor in handing such a skinny man something diet.  He described some of the remaining hills in Jackson County, Kentucky and reminded me to keep an eye on my belongings.  There were also wishes of good luck and safety.  "Now if you come back through here, y'all stop by and see me again" he said.  I assured him that I would.  Riley returned to his chair and watched me ride off with a smile on his face.

From cows to coal

Since y'all last heard from me (oh yeah, I started using "y'all" in most of my speech now) I cycled through the Shenandoah Valley west of the Blue Ridge Mountains and over into Kentucky.  My last full day in Virginia started in the Appalachian Trail town of Damascus.  At long last, I found some of the climbs that everyone complains about!  They weren't as tall as the Blue Ridge, but they were far steeper.  Once you get done with one, you zip down the backside only to start another one.  My first day so far in Kentucky was much similar, with several steep climbs that found me dripping with sweat and teetering upwards at less than 4 mph pace for thirty or forty minutes at a time.

The other change that is apparent is that once you leave Damascus, you leave the farm country of Virginia.  Then you enter coal country.  Many steep narrow roads twisting through hollows and valleys.  Big (think normal dump truck plus 30%) coal trucks come whizzing by all of the time.  Scruffy dogs waiting around the corner to chase you.  Errant chunks of coal litter the shoulders of roads.  Communities are decidedly poorer.  But after all of that, it is still beautiful.  Folks are still incredibly polite.  In gas stations and restaurants, folks ask you where you're headed, give you warnings about specific mountains and weather, and wish you a safe journey.  A similar establishment in central Pennsylvania would probably garner you a dirty look at best and a "get the f*_k off the road" at worst.  So far I have been able to shout at dogs and keep them at bay.  See Brendan Leonard's technique at semi-rad.com on how to deal with them.  Thus far, the 25+ coal trucks that passed me today were relatively courteous.  And in another day or two, the wicked climbing will ease off a little bit.  So that's good.

I stopped at a produce store in Wytheville, VA and went nuts.  The group of bags on the left yielded  a five pound bag of delicious trail mix.  Apparently weight wasn't my first concern.

Free luxury accommodations in Wytheville.  They even unlocked the bathrooms!

I don't know why, but I like older rusted trucks.

Climbing in the forest around Mount Rogers 

I was able to get off of the road for ten miles into Damascus on the Virginia Creeper Trail.  Looks like I was the only creeper on the trail that day.

All roads, paths and trails lead to Damascus, VA.

Rules for "The Place"- a hiker/biker hostel in Damascus

Spartan but adequate and affordable accommodations at "The Place"

Foggy departure from Damascus.  Yeah, it's a rough life.

I call this piece "Bovine Mist"

For every long climb there is a resulting beautiful descent.

A box for trash.  Obviously.  

Somehow I succeeded in mixing couscous, dried veggies, textured vegetable protein, Tabasco, and garlic salt into something edible.

Breaks Interstate Park.  The "Grand Canyon of the East"

Where's the top to that mountain?  Oh yeah, they went ahead and removed it.  Kentucky coal country.

Pushing bikes up the driveway to the biker hostel in Hindman, KY.  It looks flat.  My cleated shoes  were sliding backwards because of how ridiculously steep it was.

My reward for pushing my bike up the driveway.

Henk and Marja from the Netherlands relaxing at the hostel.  We've ridden together a couple of times so far on the trip.

Virginia Hospitality

Now that I am over 800 miles into my current tour, that makes it my longest yet.  The past few days I have been travelling through southern Virginia and there has been a marked change.  As soon as I turned onto the "76 Route" (the bicycle route I am following was first done in the bicentennial), many of the folks that I run into are enthusiastic about what I am doing.  The small businesses along the road openly welcome sweaty, spandex clad cyclists.  Also, I have run into several long distance cyclists travelling both east and west.

And then there is the hospitality.  I think that only the folks who have either hiked the Appalachian Trail or done some long distance cycling can appreciate the level of hospitality that complete strangers and communities show.  I had heard about acts of kindness along the route I was taking, but it still took me by surprise.  One night I slept behind a fire station in Mineral which had been hosting cyclists for over 35 years.  The owner of Gertie's Country Store in the shadow of the Blue Ridge Parkway told me when I first showed up to camp behind the store and to take a cold drink with me and pay up later.  Another night, I found myself camping in the town park of Troutville after taking a shower and doing laundry at the fire station.  Even tonight, the owner of the older motel that I'm staying at offered me a discount for riding my bicycle without me even mentioning it.  When I thanked a woman in Troutville, she said that she was just "showing Virginia hospitality".

Another example of human generosity is the site www.warmshowers.org.  This site is a community of cyclists who offer a place to stay for the night.  Sometimes this is a yard to camp on.  It can also be a bed, shower, hot meal and beyond.  I never had the opportunity to use the site until now.  I spent an evening in Charlottesville with Stephen who I contacted through warmshowers.  He was a great host who let me sleep on a spare futon and take a shower, which was just the ticket for me.  Since he was also a rock climber, we had a spirited discussion about combining climbing and long distance cycling.  I would encourage anyone who thinks they want to bicycle tour in the future or just want to meet some interesting people to set up an account on warmshowers.

Stop heading south.  Start heading west.

Requisite picture of Bumpass, VA.  Apparently it's pronounced "bum-pass" but we all know better.

The new fire engine in the background is worth more than $640k.  Better not scratch it  when I leave...

Unlike it's oft seen cousin, the lawn ball, the elusive lawn egg is rarely photographed in the wild.

It ain't the sheep I'm worried about.  Today a dog broke it's chain and chased me down the road trying to bite me.  The sheep just make funny faces.

Stu and Manny from NJ having technical difficulties with a bike trailer in Charlottesville.

They had lost a cotter pin for the axle and wrapped a bunch of  wire around the axle instead.  On the ground you can see two replacement pins I helped fashion out of a bicycle spoke for them.

First sight of the Blue Ridge Mountains!

A visit to Chiles' Peach Orchard netted these peaches and peach cider donuts.  Vital energy supplements for biking up mountains.

Getting up to the Parkway was the hard part.  Really steep climb.  Riding along the Parkway was easy.  Long but gentle climbs.  I climbed over 6,000 feet that day.  At least that's what someone told me.

30 miles of uninterrupted bliss.  Except for one construction zone where a motorcyclist yelled at me to "pick up the pace".  Yeah, I'll get right on that, sir.

Descending off of the Parkway had me worried about whether my brakes would explode first or my hands would cramp  up from holding on too hard.

I found this billboard positioning to be really funny at the time.  I don't know why.

And indeed we were.

I neither looked nor felt very executive when checking in.  But then I took a scalding hot shower of fire hose  velocity and felt positively regal.

Westbound and Down

Westbound and down, loaded 'n Long Haul Truckin',*

He'll try what many have done befo'.

He's got a long way to ride and plenty a time to get there.

He's westbound, just watch ol' Tom go!

*My bike is a  Surly Long Haul Trucker

For those of you who live in a cave devoid of Burt Reynolds, Pontiac Trans Ams, and Coors I feel sorry for you and you probably have no idea what the heck I'm talking about.  Yesterday when I turned the corner and started heading west for the first time on this trip, I began amending the chorus in the theme song for Smokey and the Bandit.  For those of you who still have no idea what the heck I am talking about, here ya go-

Not only was I pretty psyched to be cruising along in the correct direction for once (do you have any idea how many people told me I've been heading the wrong way when I tell them I am biking to Seattle?) but I also love that song and the movie.  I'm not lying.  One time, my friend Jason and I had a Smokey and the Bandit night.  Jeans, western style shirts and trucker hats were de rigueur.  We also drank cheap canned beer (in my case it was cheap canned non-alcoholic beer that Jason found somehow) and ate pork sandwiches or something.  Then we watched Smokey.  Jason's wife, Sheila, said we were ridiculous.  Damn, now that I am remembering how awesome that idea was, I think that Jason and I have to make it an annual event.

I may also need to write some more verses....

Move along, please.

Well, I am south of Fredericksburg, VA and two days out of Washington, D.C.  I put in a 65 mile day and a 45 mile day so not crushing it in terms of mileage, but as my confidence in travelling solo grows, so will that.  My only real hangup so far is figuring out where I am going to stay for the night and thus that dictates the miles for the day rather than the other way around (more on that later).

I had a really excellent time in Washington for almost a week.  Not only did I get to spend some good time with my brother, Andrew, but also get to check out a bit of the city and its sights.  I roamed through most of the free Smithsonian museums with the Freer/Sachler art museum being my favorite (same as Andrew).  I stopped in some coffee shops, bike shops and looked at monuments.  Plenty of time was spent biking as fast as I could through heavy city traffic (which is fun and novel actually).  Andrew and I took a day trip on bikes down to Mount Vernon which turned out to be 50 miles roundtrip.  He put his brother to shame by making me chase him in both directions.

It was with a little reservation that I left the city for the unknown, but I've been feeling better with each passing moment.  On my way out, I rode alongside a girl on her morning commute who shared with me her experience biking from Kansas to Ohio.  Then I ran into a guy who biked across Iowa.  Even better yet, I talked to another dude who for two years biked around the world through 28 countries.  This helped encourage me.

As my friends Scott and Ieva say, "Just as soon as you're feeling good about yourself, a German will come along and put you in your place."  Well, just that happened (sort of).  I caught up with a German fellow, Flo, who was the first long distance bike tourer I met on the trip.  We asked each other where we were headed and laughed when each replied "Seattle".  It turns out that this is his first ever trip to the US and he's biking across it solo!  Flo is on a slightly faster schedule than me since his travel visa expires at the end of August.  Also, he has no qualms about covertly camping where ever he decides to stop for the night.  Fortunately, we did get to ride together for about 20 miles that day.  We discussed jobs, the US, Europe, bicycle touring, and the book Into the Wild which I had fortunately (and finally) just read.

In the next week, I will be riding towards and then up and over the Blue Ridge Parkway and beyond.  Here goes.

I ate a lot of breakfast burritos, burritos, and beans in general at Andrew's.  Good protein!

My Schwarzenegger-like brother working out in his underground lair with a treated 4x4.  Seriously.

Finally on Virginia bicycle route 1!

Flo admonishing me that "this better not show up on Facebook".  No.  Just my stupid blog.

My first diner below the Mason-Dixon line of this trip.  How befitting... and excellent!

Story Time: Under and Alone & Into the Wild

Okay, so we all know that I am travelling around by myself for days at a time.  In the evenings, sometimes cooking and setting up your tent is all that you can do before collapsing from exhaustion.  But there's plenty of times where you get into camp early or you are taking a rest day or whatever.  I ain't got no television.  I ain't necessarily got anyone to talk to.  Sometimes my blankety blank wireless internet card doesn't work so I can enthrall you with weak stories about my travel and out of focus pictures.  So, I am going to get a LOT of reading done.  Which is great because I love to read.

Already, my book list is sounding a little eclectic.  With a gift of a book on snake lore and moonshine, my friends Kendall, Lori and Sam quickly realized that they wanted to hear what I am reading.  So I am going to write brief updates of what I am packing along.  Since this will probably turn out to be a really weird list, it'll probably be more amusing than informative.

--

Under and Alone by William Queen

This book is about an ATF agent, William Queen, who went undercover for nearly two years with the Mongol motorcycle gang.  Basically, the Mongols are a really rough group of people who commit a lot of crimes in the name of merriment and brotherhood.  Not the sort of folks you would invite over for dinner.  Queen went undercover and joined the outlaw motorcycle gang in order to bring it down.

Riveting.  Very well written.  Perhaps not the most cheerful subject matter when you are riding your bicycle alone and being passed by many motorcycles each day.  Oh well.

Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer

Okay.  Just about everyone I know has read this book and it's even been made into a movie.  I was always a little tepid about reading the book.  It chronicles the travels of Chris McCandless, a twenty something year old who got rid of most of his possessions and traveled around North America in order to experience nature's beauty.  Eventually he died alone in the Alaskan bush from starvation.  Since I knew the general premise of the book, I was once worried that I would read it and get caught up in romantic notions of the open road and living off of the land like Chris had.

You needn't worry about it.  By the end of the book, Krakauer concludes that towards the end of his remaining days, Chris had realized the need and desire to have people in his life and to attempt a balance between being out among nature and accepting society.  Unfortunately he starved to death before he could return to civilization.  Now a few years ago, I may have similarly thought about going off into the wild by myself and making a go of it.  But I have already realized that I really appreciate the folks in my life.  Travelling alone by myself (even while still within civilization) magnifies the importance of family and friends around me.

Excellent book.  Really helped place my love of the outdoors in perspective and reinforced that I want to keep a proper balance with society.