Missouri - Granola Bar Hell

We crossed the bridge into Missouri and started out over the flood plains to the south of the Mississippi river, but the head winds were making the going slow and after 12 miles the climbing started up into Saint Genevieve County. Lovely rolling hills and mature woodland interspersed with expensive farm houses and barns, were the order of the day.

It was another hot one and the gas station pop stop at Ozora MO was well deserved, the owner chatted for a while about the other cyclists who had been through and we signed the cyclist guest book. It was hard to get back on the bikes after sipping cold drinks in a cool air conditioned room, but we’re getting hardened to it!

Some miles further on we needed to stop for lunch and pulled up in a clearing beside the road. It was one of our picnic lunches of Bagels, Peanut Butter and what ever else that was lurking in our panniers.  This was to prove to be an expensive lunch stop, as I bit into a Granola bar I heard and felt a nasty crack, thinking it was a Hazel nut cracking I carried on scoffing. Feeling a sharp edge against my tongue I realised my tooth had cracked in half and I had swallowed it! Although there was no pain I knew I had to get to a dentist quickly.

We carried on through the hills passing many vineyards and eventually got enticed in to a Micro Brewery where I enjoyed a local cider over ice and a draft root beer.

This carried me through to our destination of Farmington and to the amazing Al’s Place cyclists hostel, we didn’t even need our maps, from the city limits the road was stencilled with signs guiding cyclists in to the hostel door. On arrival we rang the Police dispatchers number and they gave us the door code; the place was ours for the night, tv, internet, laundry and hot showers, luxury!

Later that evening Greg the City manager dropped by and chatted with us about the hostel and Farmington; he also came up trumps with recommendations for a dentist just down the road.

The next day we had a rest day whilst I had my teeth seen to, luckily I got an appointment in the morning. Typically what I thought might be a simple filling ended up being a bit more complex, when the x-rays showed decay in the tooth behind the cracked one as well! The dentist Tim O’Bryan and his lovely assistant Sarah got to work and I was in the chair for over an hour having two fillings, one of which required some form of supportive peg. It took three or four injections to numb the pain of the deep drilling and I had a drooping face for the most of the day. I’m now $417 out of pocket, but very impressed with Tim and his teams great service and quality of dentistry, thanks for helping me out…

I decided to treat myself to a haircut this afternoon and went in the local barbers. It turned out to be owned by a lady from Edinburgh who's sister lives in Newton Abbott (a town near my home town in the UK). Her American accent turned straight into a broad Edinburgh accent which Tony struggled to understand, so did I come to think of it! For you Devon Blog readers, she had visited Trago Mills and was a big fan! It's a small world......

We are now spending a relaxed evening at Al’s Place, with a Dutch father and son Trans Am team and a few other American cyclists, two of which are our first East bounders we have bumped into. We can now get updates about the roads ahead…. the word tornadoes has been mentioned a few times….. I’ll choose to ignore that for now! 




More photos on Flickr  click slide show on the top right of the Flickr page.

Mississippi Levees

After our rest day at Carbondale we had planned an early start to beat the forecasted high temperatures and humidity.

Not renowned for our early starts I was rather chuffed when we managed to push our bikes out of the room at 9 am. After a good bye chat to Bruce and his wife, who had flown down from Dallas to meet him for a few days, we set off.

Well I say set off; I made it ten meters across the car park before my rear tyre ceremoniously deflated! After stripping all the kit off the bike and repairing the puncture we had lost 40 minutes. Unsure if my tyre had seated correctly we rode into town to get the bike shop to look at it, it was immediately given a clean bill of health and the tyre pumped up to full pressure.

Tony had taken his bike to another bike shop down the rode and was advised it needed another bottom bracket. After all our bike issues were sorted it was 11.30. Being lunch time \ second breakfast we decided to grab a sub and chips. We eventually departed Carbondale at 12, so much for an early start! Our destination being Chester, home of Popeye.

The first few hours riding was nice but nothing to Blog home about, the scenery changed as we got south of Murphysboro. Vast flood plains stretched out around us and the roads were long straight and flat; these nutrient rich fields were full of various crops and protected from the mighty Mississippi by levees running parallel with the rivers banks. The view across the plains was impressive with various ponds and streams all abundant with bird life.

Later in the day the route took us up onto the tracks that run along the tops of the levees and with only a few cars an hour passing it was a sunny, peaceful ride with an amazing vista back across the flood plains.

We were stopped at one point by a large man in dungarees who wanted to know about our trip. We explained about the Trans Am and he was intrigued and asked if a free camp site on his land further up the road would be of use to Trans Amer’s. We assured him it would as there was nothing else through this stretch. He drove off seemingly keen on getting a project underway to help out cyclists!

At that moment a dog appeared behind us and our Kentucky dog senses kicked in, but no longer armed with Boneo biscuits or rocks my options were limited! This wolfy looking Labrador, Alsatian cross was on me in no time and determined to lick me to death and follow us both to the Pacific! Why weren’t the Kentucky dogs like this one? Eventually it’s owner caught up with us as our new levee guide dog lead us along the road, tail wagging. He was quickly told to get in the car and his Trans Am adventure was over!

We arrived at Chester IL and tracked down the base of the “Fraternal Order of Eagles”, our hosts for the night. What we didn’t know was that they were having there 2010 Eaglefest and the grounds around the vast social club where full with Fair ground rides, a music stage and a volleyball competition. It seemed like the whole town was out partying.

One of the Eagles showed us to a custom built cyclists cabin at the bottom of the car park and gave us the key to the shower room. On entering the cabin we found a sleepy sun burned Korean cyclist who was also Trans Aming; we chatted with him for a while and then went and had a wander around the Eagle Fest. The covers band where playing some passable Rolling Stones and the inebriated crowds seemed to be having a great time. We eventually got back to the cabin and we’re soon in the land of nod!

We got away reasonably quickly even though I had my second puncture in two days! Being Sunday breakfast options were limited, so a Subway breakfast roll and a coffee did the trick. We took some photos of the Popeye statues leaving Chester and soon arrived on the banks of the Mississippi ready to cross the huge bridge over into Missouri (MO). With no hard shoulder we had to hold our ground whilst pedalling across, but it wasn’t to bad and we were soon in our 4th State of the USA.

Illinois

Our first full days riding in Illinois started from Cave in Rock IL and after a hefty breakfast we headed out. Travis and Jordan were keen on a quick getaway to avoid paying for camping, so we said our goodbyes and waved them on their way.

Our route ran parallel with the Ohio river, with occasional glimpses through the forest to it’s meandering course below. The roller coaster roads of Kentucky were still with us although there seemed to be more woodland bordering the roads.

We stopped at the pretty riverside settlement of Elizabethtown IL and grabbed a drink, the heat and humidity was starting to build.

About 5 miles west the clouds were starting to darken dramatically and as we cycled along Tony suggested we should take cover. “We’ll be OK, the storm will miss us!” As we hurtled down one of the big dips my words came back to haunt me. The sky started to roar and fork lightning pierced it’s way into the landscape around us; the rain poured, mixed with hail that caused my bell to play tunes as I rode head down west along State Highway 44.

After 30 minutes the storm subsided and the two of us kept plodding through the road spray soaked through to the skin. The only bonus being that the humidity had dropped away and you could, at long last, actually breath the air!

In the next few hours two more huge thunder storms hit us and we arrived in Eddyville IL like drowned rats having ridden only 32 miles. As usual the locals came to the rescue, with the lady in the Gas Station offering us a place to camp under the lean to shelter at the end of the building.

We sat drinking hot coffee discussing our next move, a lake side camp site 10 miles on or Eddyville Gas Station? Before we could decide an old boy pulled up in his car to go and chew the fat with his mates in the Gas Station. “You boys need somewhere to stay?”, “The pavilion up at the community centre has lights, water and power", go and help yourself”. I did a quick recce and decided it offered a bit more comfort than the Gas Station, so we bundled up our soggy clothes and moved up there for the night, but not without a free big bag of Bratwurst and buns from the Gas Station staff.

Before leaving, with the help of a toothless Illinois quad bike riding hunter, I filled my stove fuel bottle up with unleaded petrol and got 37 cents worth into it . The two of us were cracked up laughing. "This pump ain't never dispensed 37 cents before...I'm tellin ya". He was probably right, most things tend to have V8’s in them around these parts! It's moments like these that are making this trip, views are amazing, but the people are cracking...

Apart from a huge storm at 3am we slept well and felt ready for a 60 mile ride to get us to our rest day stop, the city of Carbondale IL.

We were greeted by a bright day and a fantastic ride on great roads, with considerate drivers and clearly marked cycle route signs. Even the dogs seemed to ignore us.

Root Beer Float....Yum

After a nice lunch in Delaney’s in Goreville with a free dessert for cyclists and a mug shot for their wall, we spent the afternoon riding through nature reserves and along side lakes, such as Devil’s Kitchen and Little Grassy Lake. There seemed to be very few people around and with the forests providing shade from the heat it was one of those great days when the grin won’t come of your face. Even the wildlife was coming out, a racoon crossed the road in front of me and a Doe and Fawn stood in a track way nearby.

We ended up at the Carbondale Super 8 Motel, a cheap chain that for us is the Ritz. So we booked in for two nights and have had a leisurely day getting our bikes serviced, sitting in the Laundromat, shopping and going out for Thai food with Bruce (who turned up today) and his niece.

We only pay a short visit to Illinois as tomorrow we head out along the levees of the Mississippi and will soon be in Missouri and that means the Ozark mountains!

Escape from Kentucky

Massive thunder storm about to hit.

We made it.

Racing the last 12 miles from Marion KY to the Ferry slipway, myself, Tony and two new cohorts, Travis and Jordan, speedy youngsters from North Carolina, boarded the boat that was to take us to freedom.

No more nasty rumble strips, crazed dogs, coal trucks, lack of Route 76 signs etc….

As we crossed over the vast Ohio river a wave of relief enveloped us, we had survived Kentucky and had now reached the safe shores of Illinois.

Don’t get me wrong, Kentucky wasn’t all bad; it had it’s fair share of lovely people and some great scenery, but it just hadn’t made an effort to make the roads cyclist friendly. Hopefully Illinois will be back up to Virginia standards!

Leaving the comforts of Sebree Baptist Church that morning I cycled along thinking of the generosity that Pastor Bob and Violet show to all the cyclists that come through their doors. Although I’m a staunch atheist, having a little post dinner hand-in-hand prayer with them seemed quite natural as a way of saying thanks.

In fact the prayer, that had also blessed our bikes, seemed to have paid off as a nasty squeak in my left pedal, that had been there for two weeks, miraculously disappeared! Maybe I have been witness to divine bike intervention!

The last miles of Kentucky had bought with it a few more Amish and Mennonite communities, we had been told that the Mennonites always drive black cars with no chrome, I had seen a line of such vehicles around a homestead the day before and assumed it was just a CIA rural retreat!

Seeing an Amish lady sat on the porch of her white washed timber home with her bonnet on dressed from a bygone age, it struck me as a bizarre juxtaposition, their simplistic lifestyle versus the materialistic, hi tech world that surrounds them. Travelling with so little on our bikes, under our own power, out of touch for periods of time with the outside world, I almost felt at one with elements of their life style. Although I don’t think I’d get away with a Rohloff Hub and a Netbook!
  
As we cycled off the ferry into “Cave in Rock” IL, the evening was drawing in, the four of us grabbed some food in a small restaurant and then pedalled up to the camp site. As we climbed the steep slope to the site I could hear a familiar noise….. my pedal was clicking again, it seems divine intervention is dealt out on a State by State basis!

Our day finished with a final godly act, a plague of mosquitoes. As we pitched our tents they attacked relentlessly, once inside we had respite until the onslaught continued in the morning.  

Link to Google Route Map
Link to Flickr Trans Am Album

Dagnabbit

Another pleasant few days riding through Kentucky, mostly nice back road routes from Hodgenville KY through to Falls of Rough KY and a night at the Cave Creek camp site. This was followed by a days big dipper riding, long straight roads with fast down hills and big ups, but never enough speed from the downhill to get up the up hill!

Our usual mid day lunch stops consist of Gas Station or Supermarket food, all wholesome stuff! My bizarre eating habits are still baffling me, usually a savoury guy, I’m now lunching on yoghurts and pots of fruit segments, not even the delights of the Gas Station Deli counters can tempt me! Now when I say Deli many of you will think, cold meats, tasty salads and exotic delights!

Nope, Gas Station Deli’s have a collection of deep fried items, such as wedges (jojo’s), corn dogs and foil wrapped burgers, that have been cooked, one would assume, early in the morning and just left to fester in the hot cabinet until an unfortunate passer by, (usually Tony) decides to purchase the aforementioned haute cuisine!

It was during one such food stop at a Gas Station on Highway 62 near Eastview KY, that I was treated to a delightful phrase that made my day. I was perusing the fineries of the Deli cabinet when one of the Daisy Duke cashier girls who were chatting up the baseball cap wearing pick up truck driving locals, shouts out Dagnabbit.

I wasn’t aware of the context but it was a good enough sign we were out in the back of beyond; I’ll trade half a dozen Howdees for a good Dagnabbit any day!

A few miles before Madrid KY, we were yelled at by 3 girls in a garden “Pull over at the gas station and my Daddy will give you a free popsicle”. Free and food in the same sentence are enough to stop any long distance cyclist in his tracks. We found out that the owner of the garage had been looking after Trans Amer’s for some years and offered camping behind the gas station.

We signed the guest book and had a good laugh and a chat whilst sucking on our free ice cold popsicle’s, which in 90 degree heat were divine. His store was a hotch potch of food, tractor spares, fishing gear and various nuts and bolts.

The Gas Station owner asked us if we had seen his cow bells and started to head off down the store, we dully followed, he stopped “you know why I stock cow bells?”…..”er no” we replied, somewhat bemused… “Cause their bloody horns don’t work!!”. That joke is bad at the best of times, but being lured into it and having it told in a deep Kentucky drawl gave it much more comedy status!

We left after a chat with the girls; the eldest insisting we take her little sister and drop her off at the County line.

We saw our first Amish folk today, they went past in a horse and buggy, I took a photo and I thought I might have offended them, but they turned smiled and gave us a wave.

We should also by going through Mennonite areas soon, there a sort of Amish lite, they have cars (only black ones, no chrome) and can use power tools, electric etc.

I had a celebratory can of Monster, Caffeine fruit drink today to celebrate 1000 miles on my speedometer. the drink helped with the 75 mile journey to Sebree KY Baptist Church. We thought we wouldn’t make it as at Beech Grove KY day turned into night, the animals went quiet and a storm of biblical proportions hit. We sat it out in a Gas Station drinking coffee whilst the roads turned to rivers and thunder and lightning crashed around us. After 40 minutes we headed out for the final push to Sebree, our last hold up being to help a very large man replace his punctured tyre by the side of the road.

My good deed of the day was rewarded with an amazing meal of smoked ham and turkey with macaroni cheese followed by lemon pie and lots of iced tea, cooked by Pastor Bob's wife Violet. The Church youth centre where were staying is just amazing, every facility we could ask for and as usual the price for this hospitality….. nothing!

Another first on this trip, I cycled through a Time Zone, I’m now in Central Standard Time.

New photos on Flickr

Updated route Map

Wet n Dry

Today's news is bought to you from a back room at the Community Centre Hodgenville KY in Larue County.

Can you imagine the following happening in the UK?

You turn up in a town where no one knows you, you report to the Chief of Police (who incidentally sounded just like Elvis!) and ask him if it’s ok to stay at the City park. He directs you to the park and you meet the park supervisor, “The Police chief said it’s ok if we camp in the park”, “Not a problem Gentlemen, you can use the Lions Club pavilion, or pitch you tents anywhere on the grass, or If you don’t fancy camping you can sleep in this function room and I’ll leave the toilets and hot showers open for you!”……

OK lets do the UK version of that.

You report to the Police station where you meet three Community Liaison Officers and ask them if it’s ok to stay at the park. They are too busy to help as they are booking someone for cycling on the pavement. You make it to the park and find the park warden, he advises you it’s against Health and Safety guidelines to camp in the park and to s*d off as he’s locking up in 5 minutes!

Just an observation, but probably quite near to the truth!

Feeling somewhat recovered from our unplanned 70 mile dash, today was a glorious days cycling that started with a first for me, a McDonalds breakfast. I wouldn’t normally frequent the Golden Arches of Micky Dee’s but sometimes needs must. The mixture of savoury scrambled eggs, hash brown, biscuits (a buttermilk scone like thing) combined in the same tray with waffles and maple syrup is a weird concoction, but I’m slowly adapting to it. I couldn’t believe the popularity of McDonalds even at 9am the drive through was packed. My biggest gripe with this corporate monster is the waste packaging, everything is wrapped and packed in a box or container, there is no washing up! It may be the same in the UK, I’m not sure, but the landfill must be immense.

The mountains are long behind us now and the new rolling green countryside with wooded peaks are a pleasant change and easier riding, although there is always a steep hill or two to catch you out each day.

Some Counties in Kentucky are Dry counties and you can’t buy alcohol, when a Dry County and a Wet County meet you can usually tell as there will be a big Liquor Store on the border for cross county boot legging. We passed numerous stores cashing in on this oddity.

We stopped for lunch at a Gas Station Diner in Howardstown KY, after the old boys had upped and left with a polite howdee to us both, the store owner offered us a seat whilst our lunch was being readied on the hot plate. He advised us there was one issue with the table, it was the local Liars table. Going by the local wild turkey shoot score card on the Diner wall, the table was probably named after the amount of “one that got away stories” the local hunters tell whilst eating their lunch. Our tales of Trans American adventure seemed like perfect yarns and well suited to our lunch time perches!!

KKK - Kentucky cyKling Klan

In my usual ignorance of all things American (although I am learning!), I inquired with Tony as to why we hadn’t seen many black people recently. He gave me a wry smile in that “bloody stupid Englishman” sort of way and commented that there was probably still Klu Klux Klan in this neck of the Kentucky woods. I hadn’t ever heard of this Rap band before so had to enquire further……

After a side by side cycling seminar, I was a bit more eu fait with the KKK and why they had never been on MTV!

There had been a marked change in the scenery since leaving our luxury hotel in Berea; we had left the Appalachians behind and were now into rolling hills and lush farmland. Our route was taking us through quiet country roads past large farm houses and horse stables.

We stopped at a small store with lots of shelves, but barely anything on them; there were of course the essentials of everyday American life, Coke, Pepsi and Mountain Dew and a new brand of Root Beer, which I consumed rapidly followed by a chocolate shake chaser!

Whilst we sat scoffing our lunch a small fleet of people carriers arrived, they contained ladies who were on their annual cemetery tidy up in the area. Our laden bikes caught their eye and we immediately went into our well rehearsed answers to “Where yawl from?”, “Where yawl goin?” etc etc. My accent was again the focus of attention, followed by the standard “We’ve got friends from England, they live in…. now let me see…. near London!!!”. I put on the expression of someone trying there hardest to recall whether they had met these friends from England.

Just as we were about to set off Bruce appeared and we had a five minute catch up.

Now at some point in the next hour things went a bit awry, it could have been that I was looking out for pointy hats and white cloaks on washing lines or just soaking up the lovely scenery, but we managed to miss a right turn.

Our two hour scenic detour took us up an immense climb only to have to come back down it an hour later. I was slightly reluctant to ask for directions from the occasional pick up truck that came by as I didn’t want news to get out that there were two city boys lost in the boonies! Eventually we flagged down another “City Boy” driving a car, he was lost as well, but by the power of his Iphone we managed to find an escape route back out onto the Trans Am!

By this time our 50 mile day was looking like a 70 miler and our Warmshowers hosts house seemed like a far off place. To add insult to injury isolated thunderstorms were starting to ignite around us but some how we managed to miss them and just cycle through the puddled aftermath.

At around 7.15 we still had 18 miles to go and we pulled into a gas station for supplies. I chose a huge can of Monster, Caffeine, Taurine, fruity juice as my weapon of choice and Tony grabbed a lesser sized but equally chemically concocted substance.

With tail lights flashing we went for the final push, I was hoping my yell of “This is Sparta” would give me the extra stamina needed but it was drowned out by the aftermath of my large can of pop!

We powered the final miles to Macksville KY, Tony disappeared into the distance and I kept up a respectable pace, outrunning dogs and weaving past a huge snake to eventually arrive at Pastor Keith and Alicia’s house. They arrived home just as we finished putting our tents up, the usually hospitality was in abundance, showers, washed clothes and great company.

We had a huge breakfast of waffles and coffee the next morning and didn’t get away until 11am, Keith had a ride on my bike to try the Rohloff gear system and we chatted away about bikes, travel and generally putting the world to rights!

A lovely family.

Friday turned into a slow old day as Thursdays 70 miles took it’s toll on us. I started to fall to sleep as I was cycling and the rumble strips we’re actually serving a good purpose for a change by keeping me awake! 33 picturesque and reasonably dog free miles later we pulled into Bardstown KY and the “My Old Kentucky Home State Park Camp Ground”. We set up camp, got a camp fire burning and have just had a lazy evening recovering from exhaustion!

The Rumble Strips of Maddison County

Tony and I have perfected the art of the slow start to the day and breaking camp from the Presbyterian Church was a slow affair. Feeling the heat from the sun very early on, we knew the day was going to be a scorcher, so not getting going until 11.30 wasn’t the greatest idea! To top that, after 3 miles Tony got his first flat of the trip which knocked us back by another 30 minutes.

We had loaded up with a full payload of water to avoid dehydration and although it weighs the bike down you need every drop and relying on food stops on the map is never a good thing. Getting into Vincent KY we found the Diner had closed down, luckily we still had our staples, peanut butter and bagels and a few other treats from the previous days Walmart stop.

During our roadside picnic Tony had a tick take a liking to him, luckily he dispatched it before it did any damage! We also had a lovely old couple stop and chat with us whilst we ate our lunch and they were intrigued about our journey and the road we had travelled.

State Route 30 that was our first few hours cycling was really enjoyable, rolling hills, but great scenery and only a few dog incidents. Luckily I had come armed with my new secret weapon, a large bag of doggy treats attached to the handlebars. The Chihuahua who was the first recipient of my dog treats proved they worked, but not quite in the way I had thought. As the steak shaped biscuit shot past it’s ear the yapping hound turned tail and ran, not to get it but purely because it thought it was a rock!

p.s. Going by the numbers we’ve seen, thanks to Paris Hilton and Sharon Osbourne for making the Chihuahua such a popular breed, I’m sure many Hick Town hubbies have been bullied in to trading in their Pit Bulls for these trendy pocket sized hounds. I know which I’d prefer snapping at my ankles.

The afternoon dragged a bit and what with the heat and the hills, then the bad road and rough rumble strips through McKee, Sandgap and Bighill were the icing on the cake.

The only point of note on the last 30 miles of the day, apart from the great views coming over the Madison County line, was another dog attack, this time by a big brown hackles raised hound by the name of Bear. He emerged from the dust of a Trailer trash drive way and I knew this was a dismount and defend, rather than a pedal like buggery dispensing Boneo's option.

Luckily my yelling bought out two young boys from the trailer who insisted I “Just give m a good kick Sir, that’s what we do, he won’t bite”, I wasn’t about to test that theory, but as Bear curled back up in the dust I knew his life wasn’t one of walks in the park, so I chucked a few Boneo’s for him hoping it would give following cyclists good doggy karma.

As we arrived in Berea the day had taken it’s toll on us and as we pulled up to take a photo of a lovely old building we realised it was the Historic Boone Tavern Hotel, an accommodation option mentioned on our maps.

We both knew what each other was thinking; I enquired about a twin room, $99, to hell with the money let’s have some luxury!

Tony has already turned the room into the most expensive bicycle work shop and is sorting out his gears, bike oil on a nice cream carpet! I hope not.

The Dukes of Hazard

After a huge breakfast on the patio at the Knotts County Historical Society B&B, David sent us on our way. We spent the first few hours of the day riding a flatish road alongside Troublesome Creek through the small villages of Carrie, Emmalena and Dwarf. We had been told Elk graze in the Creek, but didn’t see any, although it’s hard to watch for the wonders of nature when one eye is always open for baying hounds!

We stopped at Dwarf Post Office as Tony wanted to post some gear home, I decided to pop in as well just to check on the stature of the Post Mistress!

Whilst waiting, an old boy leant on the counter started chatting to us about our ride, followed up by a knowledgeable history of post World War 2 bicycle production in the USA. I seem to be able to decipher the Kentucky accent a bit better than Tony, it must be the way they can turn a sentence into one word!

We also questioned the Post Mistress on the potability of the water in the area, she said there was a faucet out back, but she always drank bottled, the old boy mumbled some derisory comment about bottled water and the Post Mistress passed us two cold ones from her secret stash and wished us a safe journey.

Some times it’s the little things like that that make your day, peoples good nature has really shone through in America.

Oh and bye the way, as we walked out I glanced back through the open hatch way and the Dwarf Post Mistress was most definitely of normal stature…….

A few miles up the road we stopped at a gas station and popped in for more water. The owner a typical baseball cap wearing Kentuckyite asked about our trip, on hearing my accent he piped up in a fake English accent, “I’ve been to England, London and North Basington…toodle pip”. He seemed to think that adding “toodle pip” to every sentence would make him sound more authentically English.

I said, in a plumy English accent that “ I was unaware of North Basington, but if I could borrow the phone I’d ring the Queen and ask her where it was”. There was a brief second when the lady behind the counter thought I was being serious and that I had the Queens number written down on a scrap of paper!

Bruce caught us up at this point and the three of us and the gas station owner stood yacking about the directions the route was taking us on. Another great encounter with the locals!

Our lovely morning route soon came to an end when we had to cycle along the hard shoulder of Route 80 for about 8 miles amongst all the truck detritus, not only that, but Kentucky in it’s wisdom has decided to put rumble strips on all the hard shoulders making riding lethal.

As I plodded along the equivalent of the M5 hard shoulder with huge MAC trucks buzzing my elbow I noticed from my map and the road signs that I was heading a few miles north of Hazard. I couldn’t help but reminisce about Saturday TV in my youth and my favourite program “The Dukes of Hazard”, I was slightly tempted by a detour to see if Daisy Duke was still as fit as she used to be but I just didn’t want to risk a run in with Sheriff Rosco P Coltrane.

Instead I had my first Walmart experience, a wander around the aircraft hanger sized temple of consumption was quite an experience. I was happy when I found Power Bars and bags of Gummy Bears, part of my new cycling diet!

Out in the car park a gentleman stopped us, he had shouted to us from the road side 10 miles back and wished us luck on our Trans Am. On spotting us again he was keen to find out more about our journey. He reminisced about his college cycling days and said he would never be able to do the Trans Am because of his age (late forties) and being over weight. I tapped my belly and said I’m overweight and Tony told him about a couple a few days ahead in there 70’s. He ran out of excuses and as he wished us well there may have just been a glimmer of another Trans Amer in a few years time!

Back onto nicer roads but lots of steep climbs, we made it to Buckhorn KY and the store owners invited us in to sign the cyclist book. They then gave us the key to go and look in a massive church built in a log cabin style, it was quite an amazing place.

We got into Booneville around 7 having had numerous dog chases during the afternoon. The Presbyterian Church in Booneville has a free biker hut, with a chemical loo and cold shower set in a field behind the Church. We soon made it home from home and rustled up a meal of instant noodles, crisps, nuts and green tea.

Whilst eating my noodles on the steps of the cabin I yelled out with child like excitement; the dark meadow had come alive with fire flies. Hundreds of these little green dots of LED like brightness flitted around in the dark sky, Tony and Bruce where use to seeing them but for me it was a special moment, one of many this trip is giving me.

More photos available on my Flickr Trans Am set.

KFC – Kentucky Fried Cyclist

I headed out of Breaks Park early to get a bit of a head start on Tony. The mountain was shrouded in mist and I put my rear light on to avoid being flattened by a pick up truck.

I had been dreading today a bit, it would be our first day in Kentucky and everything I had read said “Be afraid, be very afraid!”. Even local cyclists as far back as Ashfield had asked if we were going through Kentucky and when we said yes they grimaced and told us to watch out for the dogs. Dogs aren’t the only problem, coal trucks run on a pay per trip basis through this mining region and they don’t stop for anyone.

Luckily we were running into Kentucky on a Sunday so coal trucks wouldn’t be an issue, but I was to find out very quickly that dogs would be. Immediately after crossing the State line the chases started and they just went on all day. Twice I had to dismount and use my bike as a shield, other times a colourful verbal assault in the Queens English proved to work. Squirting with the water bottle is also a proven method; I’ve yet to resort to my Pepper Spray or handlebar mounted rock collection, but we’re only a day into the State.

To top my previous fears we also had our longest days cycling to deal with; accommodation is thin on the ground in eastern Kentucky so we had 73 miles and 3 big hill climbs to cover in order to get to Hindman and the Knott County Historical Society B&B.

A mixed bag of small roads and interstates seemed to fly bye with the constant edge of dog attacks added to make this an interesting day. I can feel my fitness improving day by day and this 73 miler although exhausting wasn’t as bad as some of our other long days.

The challenge to cycle up the hill to the B&B in order to gain a special mention in the guest book was my final challenge of the day which puffing like a steam train I made.

David the owner of the B&B takes customer service to new levels and greets you on arrival with a huge glass of iced tea, followed by a Beer and a Jacket potato and your washing done. The stone house is set in a natural wooded amphitheatre where cyclists can pitch their tents on the tiered garden. We made use of a pre pitched touring tent which we could stand up in, luxury! Your also greeted by his cats, many of whom are kittens and provide lots of entertainment!

It didn’t take long to decide that we needed a zero (rest) day and the homely WiFi surroundings of the B&B would be ideal! So after a nice lie in I’ve spent today catching up on admin and generally relaxing. We’ll be back in dog country tomorrow.

Techy GPS elevation data here

More photos on Flickr

Link to Google Map

Council VA to Breaks Interstate Park

We woke from a peaceful sleep under the shelter in Council’s park to the sound of pouring rain. But by the time we had packed the sun was doing it’s best to show it’s face.

Although we had planned a shorter day today, the 28 miles were still strewn with there fare share of steep descents and ascents to test our remaining strength from the previous days beasting.

At our lunch stop in a small diner, there was a definite change to the accent, with the Kentucky drawl starting to take hold. My English accent is always a novelty in these little Hick Towns, they seem to think it’s “Real cute”.

The ride was the typical fare of green wooded river valleys small towns (villages) and the usual mixture of trailer parks, large luxury houses and pick up trucks. The final part of the day involved a big climb up to the Breaks Interstate Park on the border with Kentucky.

Breaks has a sort of Center Parcs feel about it, as in it’s an amazing location; the self proclaimed “Grand Canyon of the South” and has timber lodge accommodation, a motel and camp sites with varying degrees of services. But that’s where any similarity ends. Whereas Center Parcs requires all visitors to use bicycles as their main form of transport between activity locations, Brakes hires out golf buggies to tour the park all kitted out with a cup holder for your supersized fizzy pop. A key activity seems to be touring the camp grounds in your buggy, RV(recreational vehicle) spotting. They do also offer some extreme hiking trails ranging from 0.3 miles up to a massive 1.5 miles…!!!

We chose one of their “wild” camping sites, complete with picnic table and fire pit. On arrival Tony was greeted by a huge Monarch butterfly that decide to alight on his head and stay there for 30 minutes, must be attracted to hollow spaces ;-) (see pic above)
Bruce arrived later in the day and pitched next to us.

Due to our early arrival we had a relaxed evening chatting, route planning and concocting a pasta, tuna and condensed mushroom soup dinner that tasted better than anything Gordon Ramsey could muster up! Our breakfast options were limited after Racoons ripped into our tree hoisted food bag and nicked the bread!

I must admit I may be pregnant because my food tastes have gone somewhat bizarre. I have an incessant desire for chocolate milk shake, root beer and Fig Newtons. Is this normal?

We awoke in the night to heavy rain and the morning was misty up on our mountain top camp site as we tried to raise our spirits to face the infamous dogs and coal trucks of Kentucky………

Assault on Hayters Gap & Big A Mountain

It was a slow start today, after breaking camp from the garden at “The Place” in Damascus, we cycled round to the trendy coffee shop in town and consumed breakfast whilst making use of their fast internet connection.
Bruce went off to find a Laundromat and said he’d catch us at the next camp site. After copious emailing, face booking, twittering and trying to find out the meaning of the term “boxing day”, we headed out for some retail therapy.
Tony tracked down some new gloves and I picked up a thin merino full sleeve top, to try and stop me from burning my arms!
We eventually got on the road around 11.30 and quickly got up to speed through the lush green Virginia countryside. I made a few stops to adjust my seat and bar ends and now thanks to Tony’s knowledge of bike setup I think I’ve got it dialled in perfectly. Hopefully the sore bum and tingly little fingers will now be a thing of the past!

We crossed the Middle Fork and the South Fork Holston Rivers and then diverted onto a slightly longer Scenic route (aka we got lost!). I think the Hillbillies had been using the road signs for shooting practice!

Eventually we got back on the 76 and made it into Meadowview VA for a lovely late lunch at the Harvest Table Restaurant. The owner was chatting to us about the ride and other cyclists who had been in. I told her to put a sign up on the road offering a Trans Am bikers lunch deal, she seemed keen on the idea.

My scrummy meat loaf was sitting heavy as we headed towards Haytors Gap a wooded switchback climb of 1600 ft in 4 miles. As we reached the village at the base of the climb I was a few hundred metres ahead of Tony and out of the corner of my eye  I caught site of something shadowing me 20 ft into the woods. On first glance I thought it was a stray dog, then thought Wolf, but quickly realised it was a Coyote. I gesticulated frantically at Tony but he was to busy looking for a suitable wee stop! The Coyote turned and headed into the woods as I upped my pace, unsure as to where I stood in the food chain!

We reached the Haytors Gap Library and popped in, the ladies were very chatty and we signed the guest book, I asked about the Coyote and was told the had been reintroduced around the area but I was still lucky to see one. The librarian gave us a quick lecture on the perils of poison ivy and showed us her rather nasty looking arm rash. A lady sat using the free internet offered her folks house to stay at if we didn’t want to take on the Gap that night. We politely declined and within a few minutes we were pedalling up to the first of the switchbacks.

The switchbacks seemed endless and when I eventually summated from the quiet tree lined route I stopped for 10 minutes to refuel with a power bar and ring my sweat filled top out. That hill really took it out of me and the massive down hill the other side seemed like just reward.

10 miles on I stopped for my daily Gatorade at a service station; a local preacher approached us and offered a room behind his Church, it was a known cyclist stop and he was a nice chap but we were keen to continue to Council VA. He looked at the sky and at his watch and asked us if we really wanted to tackle “Big A Mountain” this late in the day. “Of course” I regrettably replied!

As soon as we hit State Highway 80 the hard shoulder was covered in debris and the cars raced past with little room to spare we pushed on through Honaker and then the next big climb of the day appeared, “Big A Hill”. This was a slightly lesser hill than Hayters Gap but with light starting to fade and six hours in the saddle it felt just as hard. The down hill into Council VA ended a tough but rewarding day.

We cooked up some dehydrated chicken noodle meals and waited for the park warden to turn up so we could find out exactly where to camp. The old gentlemen turned up at 9 and I wandered over to speak to him, on seeing me he jumped into his pickup and locked himself in. “Stay bayk, wudya wan” he yelled through the 1” gap in his windscreen, “we’d like to camp in the park tonight”, he looked blankly at me, not understanding a word I had said. I tried again in my best Queen’s English.

As I was dressed in black wearing a flaming bandanna I probably did look a bit intimidating, but eventually the lovely old chap realised we weren’t a threat and let us camp under a big pavilion and use the bathrooms.

I drifted off to sleep to a huge frog chorus, an epic day of hill climbing was over but the Appalachians hadn’t finished with us yet…….

More photos uploaded to http://www.flickr.com

The Road to Damascus

After leaving the comfee confines of Mason and Leanna's house we headed across Blacksburg to get on the Hucklberry trail. This route is a nice paved cycle route through to Christiansburg from where we picked up Route 76, the Trans Am.

Most of the day was spent shadowing the interstate highways and as the scenery wasn't as good as it had been we kept spinning the pedals and covered some 68.5 miles finishing the day in Wytheville VA.

I reported in at the Police Station and they gave us permission to camp in the town park. By this time another cyclist, Bruce from Dallas had joined us and we went and had pizzas and then set our tents up under the band stand in the park.

I slept like a baby after the long day and woke up stiff as a board, but after a few miles back out on the trail my muscles had loosened up and the three of us were heading off on the road to Damascus.

The day that followed was probably my favourite so far, crossing through rolling hills and dairy farms some bits were very much like Devon. But once we headed out of Suger Grove and entered The Jefferson National Forest Park we started to climb through roads bordered with tall conifers and broad leaf trees and dense undergrowth of Rhododendron. Babbling creeks ran under the road and butterflies the size of your palm fluttered past. The tree canopy spread a mottled light over the road calming the intense rays of the sun, but this didn't stop me getting burn't arms and legs.

Our hours of climbing were rewarded with a huge down hill of about 8 miles into Damascus; tucked behind the bars with a cool breeze coming of the tumbling waters of Laurel Creek I was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

We've ended up at a church hostel called The Place, it's full of Appalachian Trail hikers, an interesting bunch of folk who all have a handle (nick name) that they give themselves when walking the trail. We decided to camp in the garden and have our own cyclists commune instead!!

The day finished with a roll from the Subway in town and the boss lady telling me how great my English accent was; she laughed her head off when I said tomatoes but said she preferred it to her southern drawl!

A few new photos uploaded http://www.flickr.com/photos/jalicat/sets/72157623720628744/show/

Following the Appalachian Valleys

Being a country of extremes America has now decided to throw some rain our way, so we've gone from 90 degrees to 60 in 24 hours. To be honest the more English like temperatures are far more comfortable to cycle in than 90 degrees with humidity. We're expecting the temperatures to start rising again by Thursday so I'm going to make the most of this while it lasts!

The riding has been great, after breaking camp from Love up on the Ridgeway, we spent Sunday morning hurtling down out of the mountains finishing with 4 miles of switch backs that made our brake blocks smoke and hands ache from tugging on the levers. It's amazing the speed a fully loaded touring bike can hit, my speedo maxed at 40mph, not a speed you want to wipe out at on a gravel corner.

Having broke camp early due to the "stealth" location, we ended up doing 15 miles on no breakfast. Arriving at Gerties Cafe in the small town of Vesuvius we pulled up outside desperate for some grub. The door label said closed and we we're gutted and had to resort to a bottle of Pepsi from the vending machine outside.

Luckily Gertie was driving by and spotted us stood outside looking lost and hungry, she pulled in and offered to fire up the grill for us. 20 minutes later we were feasting on a great breakfast and looking at photos of a huge black bear climbing into the back of a pick up truck down the road from the cafe.

I had felt quite relaxed about Black Bears on the mountain roads as Tony had told me it wasn't bear season yet. Gertie's assistant overheard me mention this and in her deep southern drawl told me that Tony was telling me fibbs and she had recently had to get the park rangers in to get rid of a bear that was emptying bird feeders in her garden. Tony admitted his porkies were to try and stop the Brit from jumping out of his skin when anything rustled in the woods....

We finished our breakfast and signed the ceiling at Gerties Cafe. Every Trans Am cyclists who has passed by since the 70's has signed and there are names of people from all over the world and it's now hard to find a gap!

The following few days have been spent following river valleys below the Appalachian mountains. Although generally flatter the route still has tortuous climbs that zap your strength, although I'm certainly feeling much stronger than I was on my first day on the Trans Am.

We splashed out on Sunday night and got a $40 Motel next to the Pink Cadillac Elvis Diner at Natural Bridge VA. A group of old school mates were meeting up in the diner for a fishing holiday. The custom t shirts they had made read, "Paddle Faster... I hear Banjo Music!". I can feel a variation of that coming on!

After consuming half a chicken and lots of root beer I was keen on catching up on some sleep.

Having a bed to sleep in is such a luxury and I was out like a light, only to wake the next morning to the sound of pouring rain! Cycling in the rain doesn't worry me to much and there is almost a child like amusement to be had from cycling through puddles!

We put in a wet 50 miles + day to get to the town of Catawaba (pop 50 ish!). The town is also a resupply and stop off point for those walking the Appalachian Trail . Turning up at the store the owner pointed to a shed and a piece of grass, camp or cabin it's 3 bucks each. We went for the floor of the cabin and an Israeli girl joined us who was hiking the trail, she had great stories of encounters with bears, rattlers and copper head snakes on the trail.... needless to say I'll be staying on the roads and not venturing in the woods!

Tuesday was our zero day or rest day, but we ended up doing 20 miles to get to Blacksburg VA where we were met for lunch by Mason Cavell and his lovely lady Leonna and a few of their friends. Mason runs http://www.bikesburg.org and helps organise http://www.biketheusforms.org/ . The two of them being Trans Amers we were keen to get tips and notes from them and they were really helpful with info for the onward journey.

Even though Mason and Leanna were packing that evening to go on holiday they were more than happy to put us up, so after an afternoon of sitting in the laundromat we are now in another lovely American house with great hosts.

More photos on Flickr and updated map here .

Tomorrow we finish our first map of the trans am route.... only 11 to go!

In The Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia......

The daring duo have made it to the Blue Ridge Mountains; another 50 mile day but at a far slower speed as the mountain roads are so steep. We decided a bit late in the day to head up onto the Blue Ridge Parkway thinking we'd have enough time to get to the tiny settlement of Love. We soon realised that we had bitten off a bit to much as dusk started to descend and visibility dropped.

To top that we asked a family in a car how far it was to Love, the driver said you've still got a few miles to go and by the way I'm an off duty sheriff and last week in the exact spot where your standing two people got shot by a gunman and one died, so you'd better get off the mountain quickly.

We pedalled like mad, downing bananas and energy sweets to keep the legs spinning eventually arriving in a holiday cabin park in Love. No one was about so we pitched the tents got a brew on and some chilli and crashed out, totally exhausted from our mountain riding.

We are starting to get more and more dog attacks and Kentucky doesn't have lease laws so things will get scary when we get there. With this in mind I've invested in some pepper spray, so beware mutts!

Highlights of the day included traversing the foothills and cycling onto the ridge line of the Appalachians, amazing houses, long white picket fences, lovely people winding their car windows down as they overtake and asking all about your journey and wishing you a safe and pleasant journey, visiting the PYO peach, cherry and strawberry orchard and drinking huge fresh strawberry smoothies then finding out after a chit chat that the boss lived in Tiverton for 5 years, chatting with other couples at the PYO who were in awe at our loaded bikes and our journey, chatting with Harley riders on the Ridgeway who were convinced my rear hub had a motor in it! Taking a photo of the mile long freight train as we waited at the crossing and the driver waving and giving us a honk on the klaxon, chatting with the owner of the country store and buying hot dogs for lunch. Visiting the Cookie Ladies bike museum ..........

The books that inspired me to do this journey always mention how travelling by bike brings you closer to the people of the country your travelling through and you get treated differently than a normal tourist. From the first 5 days of this journey I can tell you that every word of that is true!

Thanks to everyone for there comments on the Blog and Facebook, as well as the generous donations, sorry I can't reply to everyone, but they are very much appreciated.

Stu xxx

Amazing Hospitality!

I'm still cycling with Tony from Oregon and we've made it to Charlottesville VA just as a huge thunder storm kicked in.

The last view days have been exhausting riding in blistering temperatures but the scenery we have seen on route and the people we have met have been awesome.

Tony is a member of Warm Showers and you can literally ring up cyclists in the town your heading to and they will put you up for the night! We came up trumps and were put up by Clyde and Carol, a lovely couple whose amazing family home was our palace for the night, they even took us out for a lovely Mexican meal and paid. It is this amazing hospitality that seems to be the norm in America! (pic above Carol outside her house)

The next nights accommodation was another show of amazing hospitality, this time from the Mineral Volunteer Fire Department, Engine Company 2. Met by Stewart the Station Chief we had a guided tour and then we were offered to pitch our tents out back or sleep in the huge function room on our bed rolls. We went for the indoor option! We even had use of showers, laundry and the obligatory ice machine, great for making ice packs to strap on to aching knee caps!

A French cyclist, Etienne turned up at the station, he was on his way up to Washington from Mexico. After chatting with me and Tony for half an hour he looked at me and said ....I,ve never seen anyone as big as you cycling across America... and then carried on with his travellers tales. Oh what Gaelic charm I thought!! Maybe I could go for a biggest bloke to cycle across America Guinness record!!

That's all I've got time for at the moment, totally exhausted after another great day in the saddle. Lots of new photos here http://www.flickr.com/photos/jalicat/sets/72157623720628744/

The next few days will take me to the Blue Ridge Mountains and some steep hills to conker, should be fun!! 

First Day On The Road

I’m sat at a camp site on the banks of the Chickahominy River, 7 miles west of Jamestown VA, on what has been a great first day on the Trans Am.

Leaving the sanctuary of the Holiday Inn and riding my bike out onto some busy fast roads was a baptism of fire, but so far I’ve been rather impressed with the attitude of American drivers towards cyclists, the Brits could learn a few lessons!

Having accidentally binned my Google Maps route map from the hotel to Yorktown, I relied upon my legendary photographic memory to lead me onto the correct road. Within 30 minutes I was lost! Later, with directions from a Park Ranger I was soon heading off road through a woodland cycle track and I eventually arrived at George Washington's camp site used during the Battle of Yorktown in 1781

This formed the start of an historical trail down into Yorktown. My knowledge of American history is dire and I pulled up next to the French cemetery and further along the French gun batteries and asked myself the ignorant question…. What were the French doing here? I’ll have a Wikipedia session when time allows and find out.

Cycling into Yorktown it seemed like I new the place; my research had involved reading lots of Trans Am Blogs from other riders and they all had the standard Yorktown monument picture at the beginning, or end of their Blog, so here's mine. Kindly taken by two Dutch girls who I met at the monument, who were also starting their Trans Am today

There is also the small matter of the rear wheel dip in the Atlantic, for which I called upon the photographic expertise of the Dutch Transamers once again.

After taking the photo I slyly tried to glean more info about the French and their big guns, to fill my knowledge deficit, without appearing to be thick. It was greeted with a shrug as they had also visited the French cemetery and gun batteries and asked the same question. May be the Dutch National Curriculum is the same as the UK’s, or the three of us happened to be taking a sicky off school on the day they did the “French Blast Big Guns In America circa 17c” lesson! Answers on a postcard please!!

Formalities over and done with I did a few laps of Yorktown soaking up it’s amazing historic buildings and then took to the Colonial Park Way, a lorry free route that hugs the coastline of the York river before heading inland to Williamsburg and Jamestown. The road was nice and wide, tree lined and punctuated with tidal inlets and wading birds.

Thinking I had probably seen enough olde worlde American houses in Yorktown, I almost bypassed Williamsburg, glad I didn’t! The place is a town stopped in time, early 1600’s I think (damn day off school showing me up again)! Everyone is dressed in authentic period costumes and the many buildings that form the town have all been restored to there original glory. This could have quite easily been tourist tat but it was truly a living museum and time machine.

Leaving Williamsberg an oldish American couple stopped me and asked how far I had rode, I told them and then explained my plans and they were just overjoyed, it was a real z list celebrity moment and we chatted for some time. Really made my day and as I headed down into the edge of Jamestown I was grinning all over my face.

I didn’t explore Jamestown as I really had od’d on history but instead headed towards the Capital Trail, a partially complete designated cycle route through some lovely countryside. This route took me to the camp site I’m at tonight.

Thinking my day was probably all done I had a last surprise when two cyclist arrived on the camp site and introduced themselves as Jack and Sue, the advance guard and organisers of a cycle touring group who were on a weeks “learn how to cycle tour” course. They invited me over for dinner and I popped by for a hotdog and beans and had a good chat with the group. They were a lovely bunch and it really made my evening. They were really interested in my trip and Jim the group leader is a Trans Am vet and gave me a few good accommodation and general touring tips. My Rohloff hub also grabbed the attention of a few of the group who had never seen one.

I couldn’t have asked for a better start to my trip, I’ve already seen the legendary generosity of the American people and the scenery has been stunning. Lets see what tomorrow brings.

Night yawl

(Tune in next time for the 60 mile 90 degree scorcher with Tony from Oregon, who lands us in a beautiful all American family home for the night and we even get taken out for dinner! Lifes tough on the road)

Tra la la la Amereeca...

Thoughts so far...

Bloody volcanoes...... 3 hour flight delay then re routed via Iceland, Greenland, Nova Scotia for a 9 hour flight.

Crap flight, sat next to bog, narrow seat, elbowed in head regularly, two forces guys with me chatting about bikes.... 3 large blokes + 3 small seats = contortionism, oh and broken Video system! Nice crew though and bike arrived intact, but come on Virgin... sort it!

1 hour queue at immigration very friendly and my first "Have a nice day".

Limo taxi drive of 160 miles with Gentleman Taxi's, give Tom Peyton a ring on 804 839 8400, he's also got a mini van for groups with bikes. His rate wasn't much more than a Hertz one way car rental and believe me after a day of travel being picked up at Dulles and dropped at the start of the Trans Am is great and worth every $. Thanks Tom.


Arrived at Holiday Inn, fell to sleep next to lap top writing emails!!!..... What a day! zzzzzzzzzzzz

The breakfast lady in the hotel (Hazel Nassell !!) has now given me the grace of god and blessed my journey!!!! Shame she didn't bless the rubber omelet!

Just got into the lift with a guy I did a double take, Nick....a young American lad I know from http://www.crazyguyonabike.com starting the ride today. We'll probably meet up on route...


The power of the tiniternet strikes again!

In the 70's outside, but I'm in my room building my bike!

Police sirens, honking train horns and adverts for miracle religious "debt cure" holy water on TV....

This can only be America!


Have a nice day.......