Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Bardstown to Berea

I'm not sure what Liz is writing about our trip into Bardstown, but we hit 3,000 miles on the way there! Exactly 1,000 miles since riding down to Winfield for the bluegrass festival. We camped at My Old Kentucky Home State Park on the outskirts of town and were given a ride into town by a couple at the campsite so we could go to our first all you can eat buffet to celebrate.

We spent some time exploring historic Bardstown in the morning, and biked to Springfield that afternoon. We stopped briefly at the Lincoln Homestead State Park and chatted with a retired couple taking a break from their car trip. The museum was closed and it was getting a little cold, so we continued toward Springfield. We made quesadillas for dinner and were setting up camp under the pavilion at the city park (rain was in the forecast) when we smelled a distinct skunk smell. Soon, we realized the women's bathroom had heating and... we decided to just camp in there. Seems to be a trend, but we stayed warm and dry, and best of all, our stuff didn't get sprayed!

From Springfield we biked to Harrodsburg, a shorter day because we knew we wouldn't make it all the way to Berea in one day. We arrived early Sunday afternoon and not having a camping option, looked at the churches in the yellow pages. To our surprise we saw a Mennonite church and gave them a call. David, a deacon at the church, said there wasn't an option for camping at the church, but invited us to his home for the night. We spent some time in town catching up on reading and journals before biking the eight miles to his house. We were waiting outside the church when two women drove up next to us wearing white bonnets and plain clothing, and directed us to their house next door. David and his wife Miriam had seven children, ranging in age from 2 to 16, and had invited over several young women in the congregation so we wouldn't feel out of place. We felt a little awkward in our biking clothes when all the other women were wearing head coverings and simple dresses, but those feelings soon passed. We took showers and changed clothes before joining them upstairs for a terrific dinner. We spent the evening chatting, getting a tour of the church and private school for the children in the colony, and playing Scrabble. They had electricity and vehicles, but in many ways seemed almost Amish, as most of them still spoke Pennsylvania Dutch and the local congregations were organized as colonies. The next morning we went with the oldest daughter to the school and sat in on devotions and the morning lessons in the two rooms, one for grades 1-4, and the other for 5-8. David and Miriam drove us back to Harrodsburg in the morning since they lived so far outside of town.

From Harrodsburg we planned on making it to Berea for our rest day. It was bitterly cold, so we ended up stopping at almost every gas station along the way just to warm up - a lot of hot cocoa and tea! At the final gas station we stopped at before town, the temperature outside was only 38 degrees. We talked with the owner and his friend for a while, and they gave us coffee for free and sang us some old bluegrass songs.

We're still in Berea now, and exploring the town. I'm out of time though, so more down the road!

Has it been a week already?

How the time flies. It's hard to believe a week has passed since we posted last. Heidi and I are now in Berea, Kentucky, home of Berea College, started in 1855 to provide a free education to Appalachian students. The town has many shops selling the work of local artists, many of whom were trained at the college. I already added a $2,000 hand-crafted rocking chair to my Christmas list. Santa, are you reading?

Heidi and I are splitting up our update today. I'm going to write about the first few days of bicycling in Kentucky, and Heidi will complete the update into Berea.

Heidi and I first attempted to leave Evansville a week ago, Tuesday. John Eads loaded our bicycles in a borrowed truck and drove us out of Evansville to a nearby small town. We got on the highway from there, with the intention of navigating our way back onto the Adventure Cycling maps. We soon realized our route was a truck route, as well as shoulderless, and so we decided that we were going to have to get back to Evansville and figure out a different way. We were able to hitch a ride back into downtown Evansville, and then using our collective memories from our few days in town, we found our way back to the house where John and Leah live. Let's just say John was pretty surprised to see us standing at his door again, only a few hours after he'd dropped us off!

We decided that Leah and John would drive us the 30 miles down to Sebree, Kentucky, which is on the Adventure Cycling route. Sebree is also home to a great cyclists hostel at a local Baptist church, so we had lodging for the night. All in all, our foiled attempt to leave Evansville turned out really well, because we were able to spend more time with Leah and John, including cooking supper for them and watching a movie together on the big-screen in the church basement. We have it so rough.

Leaving Sebree we knew we had a long day ahead--about 65 miles through hilly country. A highlight of the day was meeting a man out doing a century ride (100 miles). We chatted for a few minutes and discussed an alternate route we were considering. Later in the day we met up with him again. He'd cycled around to meet us and make sure we got on the alternate. He biked with us for a few miles. It turned out he's into endurance racing, and had completed a 750 mile race in 82 hours, including 50,000 feet of climbing. Needless to say, I started to feel a little bit less sorry for myself. I attempted to pick his brain for the secrets of staying motivated when the body grows weary. His response? "I guess I'm lucky. I don't have much room in my brain for thinking about that stuff." Or something like that. It wasn't the mountaintop epiphany I was looking for. But he was a very nice man, nonetheless, and gave us a boost.

After 72 miles, we reached our camping spot for the night at Falls of Rough State Resort Park. It was built by a resevoir and had a 1960s flare. We had to laugh at ourselves--Unlike many people camping who want a quiet spot far away from other campers, lights, and foot traffic, we now try to camp as close to the bathrooms as possible.

On Thursday we planned to bike from Falls of Rough to Hodgenville, home of the Lincoln Birthplace National Historic Site. The day dawned chilly, though, and a mist began to fall. By the afternoon hours, after another stop to warm up at a convenience store (Kentucky, by the way, offers a table of friendly, talkative folks at almost every gas station), it began to RAIN. We soon discovered that although rain gear does help a person stay dry from rain, one's sweat soon soaks all clothes underneath the rain gear, anyway.

At the top of a long hill, two snarling dogs ran out into the road and I, not up for a chase, stopped my bike and hoped they'd back off. No such luck. They contined snarling and circling us. Heidi and I were screaming at them and not knowing what else to do, we just kept biking by and tried to outrun them. A neighbor standing at the end of her driveway called to us, "They ain't going to bite ya." Heidi and I both wondered how a person is supposed to be able to tell that snarling, barking dogs are actually just friendly pups in it for some fun.

After the run-in with the dogs, Heidi and I soon realized that we couldn't make our hoped-for distance with the rain, reduced visibility, and reduced braking capabilities. We stopped at the gas station in White Mills and decided it was time to start calling churches at the next town. However, a friendly gent quickly suggested we call White Mills Christian Camp. We did, and they said they'd put us up for the night. It was such a RELIEF to get out of the rain and into the boys' dorm (no campers there at the time), where we had space to lay out all of our wet belongings. We were both rather giddy with joy as we looked outside and saw the cold rain continuing to fall and an icy wind blowing. We cooked dinner out under the awning on a bench--*only* one hour to make 10-minute noodles using wet twigs in our wood-burning stove.

Leaving White Mills we had another longer day into Bardstown. It was very chilly, but the rain had stopped and the roads had dried off. When we started our bike trip, even biking shorts and a short sleeve shirt felt unbearably hot. Now I wear biking shorts, biking tights, an ear warmer, a short-sleeve jersy and a long-sleeve jersey, my rain coat/windbreaker, and wool winter gloves...and it's cold!

Near Bardstown we chatted--again--with the locals smoking cigarettes at the table in the gas station, and they gave us an alternate route into town. We took it, and they met us as we came into town to make sure we'd made it and we chatted with them again. Kentucky is full of the nicest people you will ever meet! Bardstown is home to "My Old Kentucky Home," an old plantation house that Stephen Foster wrote a song about. It's a very touristy town. We camped at the state park there, and Donnie the friendly gate-keeper gave us a deal on camping. He's planning to do the Transam route in a year. Some folks gave us a ride into a buffet restaurant farther into town (since it was dark), and we guiltlessly ate southern cooking.

Although the Kentucky terrain and weather have been hard, we continue to meet great people on a daily basis, who help us out in little ways: chatting with us about our trip, offering us free hot tea and hot coffee, serenading us with mountain songs, and offering us warm places to sleep.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Illinois to Indiana















On the banks of the Ohio















Crossing the Wabash River on the toll bridge into Indiana















Still a Hoosier at heart....















Loading our bikes into the trailer John and Leah borrowed to pick us up in Mt Vernon

Cave in the Rock State Park















On road to Cave in the Rock















The Simpson family, who adopted us at the campground and gave us dinner and breakfast!















Our campsite at Cave in the Rock (note the light frost on the grass)















The cave

Southern Illinois















We biked past an area outside Chester that had been hit by a tornado only a week or two before.















Who knew there were hills like this in Illinois?
I hit 43 mph going down this hill, and 2.7 going up.















Coal mining is still big industry in these parts.















Sign outside Goreville: mileage to Virginia not accurate.















On the road to Cave in the Rock State Park




















More Illinois hills















The Todds from Columbus, Ohio: she began her TransAm ride in the summer of 1976 and was able to finish the few days in the middle that she missed this year. We met them in Tunnel Hill.

More photos from the road....

Well, if blogger ever quits thinking that I am a spammer, we might get the rest of these photos up.















Chester, Illinois: home of Popeye. We actually never saw the statue or park for him because we took the back way into town from Ft. Kaskaskia, but just about every business in town had something on their sign about Popeye.

Evansville, sweet Evansville

Here we are in Evansville, Indiana. For those of you who follow such things, Evansville is not part of the TransAmerica bicycle route. However, it is home to our friends John and Leah Eads, who are now in their third year of Mennonite Voluntary Service here.

From Cave-In-Rock State Park on the Illinois/Kentucky border, we forged our way to Evansville, which is practically on the Indiana/Kentucky border. It was a stressful ride, replete with dump trucks and semis flying along. After about 7 miles on our invented route towards Evansville, we hitched a ride over about 20 miles. The land changed dramatically in those 20 miles, from hills to flat farmland. It occured to me that it would be pretty easy to hitchhike around the country while posing as a cross-country cyclist. People feel sorry for and trust folks with loaded touring bicycles. Hmmmm...

We then biked about 30 miles to the town of Mount Vernon, Indiana, and John and Leah picked us up from there and brought us into Evansville, a city of about 140,000 people. Two cyclists have been killed on the roads around here recently, and there has been a furor over who owns the roads. It doesn't feel like the safest environment for bicyclists right now.

That's okay, though, because for about four days we've been hanging out here and haven't been cycling. There's lots to do and see. John and Leah have started a cooperative food market in the voluntary service house, and have expanded from one room to two rooms, and are now expanding into the entire main floor of the house, with plans for a bistro and art gallery as part of the expansion. We've also met their brood of hens and toured the neighborhood and the community gardens that they've been involved with.

The M.V.S. house is associated with Patchwork, an organization started in the 1970s as an intentional community and a response to the middle class flight from the inner city. Patchwork runs an after-school art program and a tutoring program (and probably some other stuff that I'm forgetting).

We're now looking towards the final states: Kentucky and Virginia. Amazing how far we've come. Excited about what the rest of the trip has to offer. And, for now, happily ensconced in Evansville with good friends.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Photos from Ft Kaskaskia, Illinois

















Another sunset photo















The three bikes hangin' out















The meal provided by our neighbors the first night! (the cookies disappeared first)




















Henry with his hobo dinner















Cooking hobo dinners















Another view of the Mississippi















One of the funnier RV model names (there was also an "Intruder" at the campground, but it left before we got a photo)

Crossing the Mississippi




















St Genevieve flood levels















On the ferry across the Mississippi















A barge floating downstream















Sunset from Ft Kaskaskia over the Mississippi

Missouri photos




















Last photo from the Katy




















Our campsite at Robertsville State Park















Randy and Joanie with their dog Fuzzy, our camp hosts at Robertsville





















Liz relaxes on top of the US Army blanket supplied by the hotel in Crystal City/Festus, Missouri

Katy trail















The hostel in Tebbets where I climbed through a window to get in















Steve, the other biker at the hostel the same night




















A rock along the trail formed when the bluffs eroded - people have been marking flood levels on it since 1903.















Bluffs along the trail

More Missouri photos















Bluffs along the Katy Trail
















View of the Missouri River














Heidi with her great-aunt Florence and uncle John in Columbia



















Our hosts in Columbia, Laura and Ethan

Some belated photos...

But first, an apology! As time seems to pass much differently on the seat of a bike, I don't think either of us really realized how long it had been between posts. Also, a note on the photos - to enlarge an image, just click on it and it should open a new window with the larger image.
































Tuesday, October 10, 2006

also from Carbondale

It's amazing how quickly I forget what I've done in the last few days. Let's see here: After we left Robertsville State Park, Heidi and I had a stressful day of navigating Missouri backroads. This included steep up- and downhills, lots of traffic, absolutely no shoulders. It seemed like every person we talked to had a different story on what roads to take, and which roads were dangerous.

Early in our ride from the park, a kindly local decided we shouldn't be biking the 4.5 miles into the next town because of high-speed dump trucks, so he gave us a lift into Lonedell. Incidentally, Lonedell is where the stolen baby from Kansas was recently recovered. In Lonedell we also received a good luck hug from a cute old grandma.

The day continued with more unattractive highways and St. Louis traffic. The highlight of the day was meeting Kim, a woman also bicycling east and randomly on the same highway we had chosen to get away from St. Louis. She, however, was biking into the city.

That night we made it into the twin cities of Crystal City and Festus, where fate forced our hand and we ended up getting the cheapest motel room we could find. (This was after a couple conversations with locals about a possible KOA campground, which was alternately called the "A-OK" and the "Koah" campground.) Heidi and I were both pretty downtrodden after the stress of the roads.

The next morning, after the bad coffee one can expect at a motel, we set off towards Chester, Illinois, where we could meet up again with the TransAm bicycle route. We had lots of long hills all morning, with some pretty views of the changing leaves on the surrounding hillsides. At the town of Sainte Genevieve near the Mississippi, we spontaneously headed down into the old part of town.

The town of Sainte Genevieve was settled in the 1700s by the French. It was surprising to find a quaint French-looking village in Missouri, and to me it was odd to think that eastern Missouri was settled that long ago. Sainte Genevieve was a sweet surprise, and it definitely lifted my spirits.

From Sainte Genevieve we decided to take a ferry across the Mississippi, instead of taking the bridge into Chester. It was really cool to finally see the great river, and the huge, flat barges moving goods downstream. And, as a bonus, we got to bike in the FLAT floodplain on the Illinois side of the river, instead of battling Missouri hills.

We bicycled to Fort Kaskaskia National Historic Site for the night, which was a few miles outside Chester and saved us a few miles. It was situated on the top of a very steep, long hill, but the views of the Mississippi River below were worth every step I took pushing my bike up the hill. The campground had a festival feel, because many people were taking advantage of the long Columbus Day weekend.

Henry Dick, one of our friends from college, motorcycled down from his hometown of Bloomington, Illinois to meet up with us for the night. Some of our camping neighbors came by and asked if we needed firewood (which we desperately did), and then also offered us pork steaks, baked potatoes, veggies, and homemade cookies. So we had a great dinner and a great campfire and enjoyed the bright full moon.

The next day we all ended up staying at Fort Kaskaskia, and, again, when evening fell we had neighbors from both sides practically throwing firewood at us. It was truly the most generous crowd of folks we've met while camping. I think they took pity on us when they saw all three of us hauling a huge log to our campsite, and then me trodding around in the woods looking for sticks.

Yesterday we left Fort Kaskaskia and had a nice, flat day of biking in the Missippi floodplain. Last night we were in Murphysboro in the hilliest state park you'll meet. Friendly old guys fishing near our site helped us get water (which would have been a long uphill bike ride). Now we're in Carbondale in the internet time is OUT.

Thanks for reading! We'll try to be in touch regularly!

It's been awhile....

We're in the public library in Carbondale, Illinois, and again splitting up the blog entry because it's been so long since we last wrote!

After leaving Columbia we continued down the Katy Trail to the Turner Katy Shelter (a hostel run by a non-profit agency for bikers/hikers) in Tebbets. We had called to let them know we were coming, but the key wouldn't work in the door so I had to climb through a side window as Liz boosted me up to get in! We had a very relaxing evening there, making dinner outside, chatting with the neighbor, and reading. Around 9 pm, a very tired bicyclist going the other direction arrived. Steve was from Iowa, and we talked for awhile about RAGBRAI and other rides before crashing for the night. We took off the next morning for Marthasville. The ride was beautiful, but the heat wave wasn't over, so we didn't enjoy it as much as we probably could have.

Camping in Marthasville was at the city park, and the softball games weren't over till nearly midnight, so we had a late night watching the games and cooking dinner. The next morning we left the Katy Trail at Dutzdow, and continued south to Washington because we realized following the trail to the end would necesitate navigating around St. Louis. After running errands and finding maps, we followed some back roads to Robertsville State Park.

I didn't realize quite how much I missed state parks until we got there. It was quiet, with hiking trails and friendly neighbors, and as an added bonus there were showers, laundry facilities and great camp hosts. The next morning we rather spontaneously decided to take a rest day. Our camp hosts offered to take us to town in the morning to get groceries, so we accompanied them back to Washington. I spent most of the day reading, and we made a campfire that night with wood the camp hosts gave us. All in all, it was a very relaxing day with no real errands to run like on most rest days.

And now, the word from Liz.... Robertsville to Carbondale.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Lawrence to Columbia

We left Lawrence on Wednesday morning on beautiful county roads with sparse traffic. Since both our Kansas maps were not very detailed, we map-quested a route avoiding highways, and ended up doing a six mile tour of gravel roads before finding a paved route to Louisburg. We ate lunch at Hillsdale Lake, stopped at a fruitstand ten miles from Louisburg, and stopped in briefly at the Louisburg Cider Mill. We had hoped to camp in the city park there, but the sheriff met us at the Burger King right as we got to town and told us city ordinance wouldn't allow it. Instead, he had asked the pastor of the Louisburg Baptist Temple if we could camp on their lawn, which they graciously allowed. We set up our tent just in time, as it started to sprinkle right away.

After a night's rest there, we started out for Missouri, only a few miles away. We stopped briefly at the Harrisonville Mennonite Church to say hi, and as we did, we met Ang'e, a local bicyclist who has done the MS 150 in Kansas and Missouri for many years. She invited us to camp in her lawn, and we took her up on the offer! We biked the 15 miles to her house, and spent the afternoon chatting with her husband Jon and watching their dogs play around the backyard. Ang'e treated us to a great meal at a local restaurant and afterwards we watched part of the movie "The Day After," which Jon had a small part in.

From Ang'e and Jon's house near Latour, Missouri, we biked on small highways and county roads up to Sedalia. The hills on our route, while not impossible, made us very thankful to be on the Katy Trail through most of the state. We camped in the fairgrounds in Sedalia.

From Sedalia we caught the Katy and road about 40 miles to New Franklin, where we camped. The Katy is terrific, and we've enjoyed the beautiful views and traffic free days. We rode from New Franklin to Columbia yesterday, where we went out to eat with my great uncle John and aunt Florence, and stayed in the lovely home of another bicyclist we met on the trail going into town, Ethan. Ethan, Laura and their son Nolan have been terrific hosts, and we enjoyed a good night's rest and break from the mosquitos! I'll write more later, the computer is runnning low on batteries....

Today we'll head for the hostel in Tebbets, and soon we'll be nearing St. Charles and the end of the Katy.

ciao
heidi

The Kansas Trip

Here we are, safe and sound in Columbia. The bike trip continues to be full of good surprises, and Heidi & I are both really enjoying the Katy Trail, which is an old railroad bed that has been converted into a cross-state bicycle trail. No cars! No trucks! And lots of bicyclists to chat with along the way. Not only that, but bathrooms and water conveniently located right next to the trail, as well as historical signboards at each "depot." What paradise have we found ourselves in???

Heidi and I arrived at the Katy Trail through a roundabout self-designed route, which took us from Newton, Kansas, to Lawrence, Kansas, and then over into Missouri. Our Kansas route traveled through Chase County (of Prairyerth fame), including a stop in charming Cottonwood Falls (beautiful historic courthouse). My parents surprised us there, and took us out for supper at the Emma Chase Cafe, which was also hosting its weekly bluegrass jam.

On our second day of Kansas pedaling we went to Osage City, which was not as charming as Cottonwood Falls. However, as we pulled our bikes up behind the police station shed in the late evening light, a man who lives behind the police station noticed us from his yard. He immediately came over to chat, and after a minute offered us a spot in his yard, showers, and breakfast in the morning. Lloyd said, "My Mom always said, never let anyone leave your home hungry."

The third day out we made it into Lawrence, where I lived last year. It was so cool to realize that we'd bicycled from Newton to Lawrence, a route I have driven innumerable times. Not only that, but I got a much better sense for the land and towns in between Newton and Lawrence from my bicycle seat rather than from the driver's seat in a car. I felt the Flint Hills in my legs and the wind blowing from the West, and heard the insects buzzing in the ditches.

Lawrence is a happenin' town, and so our one stopover day there turned into two. Probably a good thing, because the muscles needed some recuperation. It was also great to visit the house where I lived last year, and the dear friends I lived with, as well as other friends in the area, former coworkers, and my brother, Daniel.

Okay, I'm going to turn the keyboard over to Heidi, and she's going to update ya'll on the great state of Missouri.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

First day on the Katy Trail
















Lovely campsite at MO State Fairgrounds.


















Historic downtown Sedalia, Missouri.
















Beautifully restored Katy depot in Sedalia.

















On the Katy Trail!

Missouri
















Missouri hills
















Missouri wildlife




















Our hosts Ang'e and Jon in Latour, Missouri

Photos leaving Kansas into Missouri































On the window at the Mennonite Church in Harrisonville