Caption Competition 2

After the roaring success of the last Caption Competition, it's time for another!

I'll start the proceedings, use the comments feature below to add your caption. Don't forget my latest blog post is here http://www.midlifecyclist.me.uk/2010/07/rockies-on-horizon.html  

The Rockies On The Horizon

Crossing into Colorado from Kansas initially offers little respite from the flat monotony of the prairie, but slowly it starts to take on it’s own unique character.

Highway 96, which carried us for 303 miles across these two states starts to divert from it’s regimented East West route that it’s adhered to through Kansas and takes on a more wandering rebellious track through Eastern Colorado.

Even the strict grid layout of the fields that we’ve become so used to start to look less organised and lush crops seem to be replaced with grazing cattle making do on rough pasture.

It is also immediately apparent that Colorado spends less of it’s budget on road repair. As soon as we crossed the state line the 96 highway took on a more cracked and weathered appearance and every five metres or so a crack would stretch across both carriageways like a rib. This would cause our wheels to jar and our bodies to soak up the jolt, which after a few miles starts to become rather tedious! I always thought ribs were for extra pleasure, but these type certainly weren't!

Soon the landscape turned quite barren, Kansas was now a distant memory and the high desert landscape was starting to dominate the skyline. This setting was more than apt for our first Ghost Town, Galatea; deer stood in the road and a few empty houses dotted the landscape, a car sat overgrown in a field giving a feeling of eerie abandonment. A spooky taster but I believe there are bigger ghost towns to come!

Another awe inspiring sight were the miles and miles of empty goods wagons on the train track from Arlington to Sugar City. I’ve seen photos of these from other Trans Am Bloggers so I know they’ve been laid up for some time. Anyone know why?

My first view of the Rocky Mountains ended unceremoniously in a First Aid incident! Whilst staying at Gillian and Mark’s cyclist hostel and small holding in Ordway, they asked me if I wanted to walk the dogs out in the fields so I could see the sun set on the distant Rockies, I of course jumped at the chance.

Whilst crossing the field I stood on a twig stump that had been cut short as part of a fire break;  there was a pop as the sharp twig pierced my Crocs and went into the sole of my foot. I limped back to the house feeling my Croc start to fill with warm blood, panic set in and I thought it could be the end of my Trans Am adventure. After a liberal soaking with iodine and a large sticky plaster the brave soldier was ready to pedal on. I never did get to see the sun set on the Rockies that night!

Leaving Ordway we struggled to find a Diner for an early breakfast stop, but instead the smell of fresh baking lead me to “The Family Bakery”. The toothless old lady running the place offered us free coffee and then we chatted to her whilst perusing the vast array of fresh pastries and donuts. Upon purchasing numerous sugar laden delights for now and “to go” we had to do a double take as they were only 30 odd cents each! This had to be the best donut deal in the west.

We met a few new riders during our early days in Colorado, Brian and Robin had met up on route, both Americans and both fast riders. Brian was riding with one sole purpose, not the usual charitable ride, pre university trip, retirement expedition or mid life crisis, no, Brian was on a shagfest! On arrival in a new town Brian would head straight to the pool to ogle at the female life guards and swimmers, followed by trips to any other place in the vicinity where females may congregate.

All we new about Brian was he had lived in Russia for 8 years and had just returned, occupation unknown, we wondered if this pedalling lethario was a Bond \ Bourne agent with a license to thrill. The one error in his plan was that his “Western Express” route across miles of desert would provide a drought in more than one sense of the word and have little chance of putting a dent in his full to the brim condom pannier! But maybe the free love of his destination, San Francisco, would be more than adequate a prize for his fasting in the desert!!

Robin on the other hand was a young tattooed fitness instructor and probably the more obvious choice for a cycling love God, but he was content with the challenge of the cycling and was keen to take on the mountains and head into the Rockies.

The closer we got to Pueblo the bigger the mountains appeared and our up and coming rest day would be well earned and vital for recharging our hill climbing legs.

Crossing The Wild West

There is a technique to crossing Kansas, get up early and hope you get a tail wind, then cover as many miles as possible! Not very scientific I know, but with temperatures around 100 degrees, Tornado warnings, winds that can give you a 100 mile day or a 40 mile day, depending on their direction and this year as an added attraction, unprecedented flooding, your guaranteed an interesting ride!

Kansas has a beauty all of it’s own, it’s a vast expanse of flatness broken into a grid system of roads running North, South, East and West, some gravel, some tarmac. Each of the grid squares seem to have either corn, wheat or cattle in them. That is of course a very simplified description but it gives you an idea of what this State is like. Have a look at the Google Earth screen grab below and you’ll see what I mean. We’ve been following pretty much an East West route across the state with a large part of it on Highway 96.

With the wheat harvest about to start we have crossed the Prairie just in time, as traffic will increase massively over the coming weeks, with huge trucks hauling combine harvesters to the next area that needs harvesting. So It’s all hands on deck for the prairie community, every diner, bar and gas station we’ve been in is buzzing with harvest talk; even the kids get involved with teenagers driving long shifts in fleets of combines.

We have already experienced many escorted wide loads hauling farm machinery and silo’s looking like sections of moon rocket. They give us little room and bailing out onto the verge is sometimes the only option. A huge MAC truck bearing down on you from behind sounds like a Tie Fighter attacking and is probably as scary, luckily the force has been strong with us; although Keith did get hit by a car and is now carrying it’s broken wing mirror as a memento!

As usual we have met some great people on our journey, one in particular springs to mind. Don the retired 75 year old Wichita Fire Captain, who we met out on NE Flinthills Road as we headed towards Cassoday. He was coming towards us at a fare speed and circled in the road to join us, after brief introductions he told us he was out on his favourite day ride but had done the western part of the trans am on a tandem with his wife some years ago. His wrap around shades, crash helmet, cycling shorts and muscular physique hid from us an elderly gent suffering from Parkinsons for three years. He told us he was fully aware of what the disease had in store for him, but was determined to carry on cycling in order to fight the disease and the side effects it brings.

He kept at our pace and chatted away about cycling and his time in the Fire Service and the Forces, as we got near Cassoday he invited us to join him for lunch at the Cassoday Country Store eat all you want homemade buffet. As we entered the store the locals immediately started bantering with him and we could tell he was well respected and well known. Lunch went down a storm, home fried chicken (forget KFC!), mash and many other sides, but the dessert took the crown, Rhubarb Cobbler with home made ice cream out of an iced barrel.

Don told us tales of the Trans Am, including the eye watering story of how he almost had to give up in the Rockies as a haemorrhoid meant he couldn’t sit on his bike seat. He explained how he remedied this with a DIY amputation using a razor blade. I whinced as I tucked into the last mouthful of my cobbler; this man was a Kansas cycling hero that we had had the pleasure of riding and lunching with. A really inspirational guy battling with a terrible disease.

Other characters we met on this leg of the journey included Bev and Chuck who run the Peace Creek Hostel near the Quivira National Wildlife Refuge, west of Nickerson KS. They open their doors to cyclists, cook you a meal, let you use their facilities and pitch your tent in their front garden, purely for a voluntary contribution. Getting to the hostel, 5 miles off route at the end of an wind blown 85 mile day was a challenge. Being the only house for miles and tucked away down a track, I ended up using Indian style tracking techniques to find tyre prints of the faster cyclists ahead. Passing through a wildlife reserve also bought with it beauty and danger, birds of prey circled above and deer wandered across the road in front of me as I battled immense head winds moving at only five miles an hour.

At one point a large snake slid between my wheels, the resulting dismount from my bike would have won Olympic gymnastic gold and put Olga Korbut out of medal contention. I unclipped both feet simultaneously, pushed on the bars and lifted myself in to the air turning 180 degrees in the process and still holding onto my bike at arms length as it ground to a halt. I hadn’t seen where the snake had gone so I carefully examined my rear panniers to ensure it wasn’t hiding in my luggage! I eventually made it to the hostel and caught up with the other guys.

I also saw my first cowboy in Kansas, rounding up cattle, wearing a Stetson, spurs and carrying a lasso, it was a real time warp image, one that captivated me so much I forgot to get a photo!

My scariest moment in Kansas was captured on video as part of my previous Blog. Cycling towards Tribune I watched a storm start to develop and the more it grew and the stranger the clouds appeared the more I thought I was about to see a Twister emerge. A few miles out from town whilst filming the storm two locals stopped and offered to turn round and drop me into town. I decided to ride it, determined nothing would stop me riding all the way across America, those last few miles were the fastest of my trip so far and I was glad of the cover the Gas Station offered as a storm of biblical proportions rolled in for the night!

There was a sad end to our Kansas leg when Maarten and Kees, our Dutch cycling companions caught up with us, but unfortunately they were in a hire car. Kees had suffered bad dehydration and had been on a drip in hospital, they tried to carry on but he was to ill. After much deliberation they decide to finish their US trip by car and see some of the sites, before flying home from San Francisco. I’m totally gutted for both of them, a great father and son team who were an absolute pleasure to cycle with and great proponents of sarcastic wit, something I’m slowly training Tony in!

Kansas was generous to us on our last morning in the state, almost a Mickey take, in that it showed us what difference a strong tail wind can make and blew us at speed into Colorado!

Caption Competition !

I just took this picture outside the Diner in Eads Colorado. Thought some of you wise cracks may be able to come up with some humorous captions. Add them by posting a comment below.

The winner will receive a pair of my used cycling socks!!

Storm Pedalers

We left Scott City in Kansas this morning and fought with the winds to complete a relatively short ride of 50 odd miles to Tribune KS, close to the Colorado border. As I got around 15 miles from Tribune a storm started to grow over to the South West, it looked really ominous and I kept seeing what I thought were twisters forming. Tony had already made it to Tribune so I was alone on the highway. This is my Trans Am TV report from the highway! ( For best quality click on the 360p button and change it to 720p HD and give it time to load or watch directly on YouTube ) . Text continues below video.....

Since then we've had, storm force winds, dust storms, rain and lightning, we've also got a Tornado warning in force for this town! To top that were sleeping in the park under the band stand!!!

Eureka – My Parasite Pet & The Vietnam Vet

Cyril the Tick!

We left the Safari Inn Motel, Keith got a head start as usual and rode ahead, the weather was great, cool no rain a few hills but mostly flat.

After an hour or so we arrived at Lenny’s Gas Station, he has run it for 45 years and has seen all the cyclists go by since 1976 when the Trans Am started. We grabbed a coffee and chatted with him for a while; it amazed me that this guy had run his grubby little gas station for 45 years on a cross roads miles from anywhere, but being his own boss he seemed more than happy with his lot.

As we left Lenny’s two Brits heading east on the Trans Am\ Western Express came along. They were the first Brits I had met on the whole journey, it was good to have a chat in the Queens English! As usual we swapped tips on the route we had travelled and what were the best places to stay \ eat. The older of the two guys father lived in Budleigh Salterton, a town near me and we chatted in the heat dreaming about ice cream from the Creamery, a great ice cream shop.

There were only a few options for rest stops today so we carried plenty of water. Arriving in Toronto KS we stopped at the Market Deli, as we saw two bikes outside. They belonged to Carol and David, a fit older American couple doing the trans am and staying in hotels on route, luxury, I’m not jealous! We stopped and had lunch and chatted with them, Keith had left 5 minutes before.

Don, who owns the Market Deli in Toronto KS and is the spitting image of Dennis Hopper in Apocalypse Now, had the usual Stu marketing advice spiel. His location half way along a 60 mile stretch with no other services, makes his recently purchased business a great Trans Am stop in both directions. I recommended a Trans Am cyclists welcome sign, free popsicles and water bottle fill ups, his sandwiches were great, he could be on to a winner and seemed really grateful for the info.

We met Carol and David again resting on the long Highway 54 to Eureka, her strange handlebar set up was she ensured us very comfortable but made her look like Mary Poppins.

All the way along Highway 54 we were passed by East bound RAAM (Race Across America) riders with their support buses and sag wagons, they waved to us and the crews yelled out and some shouted through their vehicle tannoys. They ride a different route to us and are the jet fighter equivalent to our heavy bombers!
Eventually we arrived at Eureka and joy of joys it was the first City Park with a swimming pool and to top that most of Kansas’s parks have pools and Trans Amers get to use them for free! Keith and I decided to take a dip after using the showers to wash that days cycling kit!

Whilst bobbing around in the pool a young girl started chatting to us, she was only around 12 but her life sounded hellish, with constant domestic violence she was having to spend most of her life living with her Aunty. As I turned to swim off she said there is something on your back, I asked Keith to look, his face said it all, there was something on my back that wasn’t nice! Keith said he thought it was a tick and it was the size of my little fingernail!

We got a nearby builder to look and he gave us a cigarette to try and burn it off, this didn’t work so I decided to go to the hospital as ticks can carry a host of nasty diseases.

I cycled up to the A&E department at Eureka hospital and was put in room with 71 year old vietnam \ korean war marine vet, who looked like a skinny alcoholic Grizzly Adams.  He started gobbing off to a young nurse, “I’m an American Marine, I need effing treating now”, she told him off, but he still carried on being abusive. I decided to have a word with him about his attitude, my accent spooked him a bit and he asked “Wherez ya from” in his slurred gruff Kansas accent. “England"… never been there, heard it’s a mighty fine place though!”

He then gave me a graphic insight into his infected catheter and how much his knob hurt! I asked him about Vietnam and Korea. “I don’t talk about nam, real bad shit out there” he replied.

I told him my late father was a Royal Marine Commando in Korea. He went very quiet and muttered “Those Royal Marine Commandoes were crazy bastards” and shook his head. That line was enough to calm the drunken war veteran down and we ended up chatting and he was so full of respect, that I was the son of a Royal Marine Commando. He took my card and after the nurses had removed his catheter with, I guess, an extra hard tug, his helper appeared to drive him back home.

As he left the ward staggering from wall to wall he promised to email me loads of pornography, I said I would prefer a donation to ShelterBox!

Well I think the Doctor and nurses were impressed I had shut him up, he’s a regular trouble maker apparently.

My huge Tick was removed, the biggest the Doctor had seen, he reckoned it had been feeding on me for over a week. I’ve been prescribed antibiotics to deal with Lymes Disease and Rocky Mountain Fever. The nurse and doctor were great fun and really interested in the trip.

They presented me with my tick in a pot bathing in formaldehyde, he’s been christened Cyril and his finishing the Trans Am with me…..

The Cycling Circus Is In Town!

A Cookies breakfast devoured, we were ready to go by 7.45am, the street through this small town ran east to west and it just went on dead straight and flat as far as the eye could see in both directions.

As we headed out westwards we quickly left the city limits and with little traffic and a strong wind coming from the 11o’clock position we decided to initiate our peloton plan. One rider would sit on the centre line of the road the other four would position themselves in a staggered formation evenly spaced to the roads shoulder. It took a bit of concentration but made cutting through the wind far easier with only the lead man taking the hit of the wind whilst the rest required much less effort to pedal. With the front man dropping to the back every few miles and the pack rotating we felt like the Red Arrows air display team.

We had been given the heads up on an 8 mile diversion due to bridge construction, as it was Sunday we ignored the road closed signs and managed to get through with no problems.

Further on I could see Kees was struggling and I asked him if he was OK, he said no, holding his stomach he continued until we had our next stop and then almost fainted by the side of the road. We took him over to an abandoned store and sat him under the porch.

We dosed him up with various pills but after another failed attempt to cycle he had to rest in the shade. Maarten insisted we carry on and he would wait with his Dad. Reluctantly we headed on to Pittsburg KS but not before I managed to snap my seat clamp bolt, luckily Keith had a spare.

5 miles from Pittsburg KS on the Kansas border we were getting drinks at a gas station when two East Bounders saw us and pulled in. We chatted for ages about the routes in either direction; they had come from San Francisco on the Western Express route through the Nevada desert before linking up with the Trans Am.

We got into Pittsburg KS at lunchtime and found Harry’s Cafe, a real classic old American Diner, an ideal place to celebrate our arrival into our fifth state, Kansas.Whilst cueing to pay my bill on the way out, the little old lady on the cash desk seemed to be having trouble with a new fandangled computerised till. She methodically typed in each item off the bill and without looking up read out the price in individual digits. As my turn approached she typed in my bill and read out six, six, six; I searched in my wallet for $6.66 and noticed her take a quick look at me; she sheepishly looked up again and smiled at me, “I was just seein if ya got horns”. Classic comedy timing!

There were a few options for accommodation that night so we rang the Lutheran Church but no one was in, bit weird for a Sunday, we pressed on hoping we’d meet the pastor at the church but there was no one there. We checked the church, which reminded me of the church in the Blues brothers, I would have loved to have done a back flip down the aisle!! Even the Community Centre at the back was open but empty, so we topped up our water bottles and I left a donation…!
 
We had another option, seven or so miles on; the town of Walnut, we decided to go there instead (bad move!).
 

Five miles from Walnut a smart black Dodge Charger pulled up and the bearded driver in his 60’s shouted out to us, “There’s a storm a commin in an hour, get yourself to Walnut”. He disappeared fast off down the straight road. As we are now in “Tornado Alley” advice about storms has to be taken seriously. With this in mind Lance Armstrong would have struggled to keep up with us into Walnut…
Keith got directions to the park and we hoped there would be a sturdy pavilion in there  in which to sit out the storm.
Usually the parks we stay at are immaculate and places of civic pride, Walnut’s was an overgrown mess with no pavilion, filthy toilets with branches pushed down them and no water. With a long ride and a risk of being hit by a storm, we had no options but to pitch our tents and hope for the best.

As luck would have it, the gentleman who Keith had asked directions from was renovating a Gas Station into a Fire Station and drove round to offer us the building for the night. Apart from being a bit dusty and greasy it was a roof over our heads and protection from the savage storm that eventually hit in the early hours.
We rolled up the shutter doors and spread cloths lines across the openings and got our stoves fired fired up ; before long word had spread around town about us and cars, atv’s, Harley’s and pickup’s where cruising by….

The Cycling Circus Is in Town!!                                                            

Pies at Cookies in Golden City

Our breakfast with the Masons meant a late getaway from Walnut Grove it was worth it though, the biscuits (bit like scones!), bacon, scrambled egg and gravy really set us up for the day and the banter with the Mayor and the Masons was great. A real nice bunch of blokes.

I took a wrong turn coming into Everton MO and quickly got back on track to find Tony coming back to look for me. He had been held up by a carnival precession in Everton MO with classic cars, floats, horse riders etc. Gutted I had missed it we decided to follow it for a few blocks and ended up being the final attraction in the parade, waving to a few of the crowd and joking with them in my royal English accent got us some laughs and offers of beer.

After a long day in the saddle fighting head winds and dealing with the last of Missouri’s hills we eventually got into Golden City MO and headed straight for Cookies, the legendary diner that sells the best pies on the Trans Am. I went for the blueberry crumble pie and it was scrumptious. One of the joys of cycle touring is that you can eat pretty much what you want and still lose weight, although with the intense heat I tend to crave liquids more than solids!

Whilst eating our pie a cyclist with a vague Iggy Popishness about him appeared right in front of us, he immediately introduced himself to us and even new our names. It was Steve, Keith’s mate from Springfield, who had saved the day by picking up Maarten, Kees and Keith the previous afternoon to get some urgent repairs done on Maarten’s bike. He had dropped them back on route and him and his lovely lady Ellen had joined them for a day on their super fast racing bikes. It was great to see the gang again and hear about all that had happened to them in the previous 24 hours.

We had a relaxed evening at Golden Cities park, camping under their pavilion and woke to enjoy our last day in Missouri, which wasn’t to be without incident……..

More new photos on Flickr …

Masonic Lodgings

After breaking camp early from the front lawn of the Hartville Court House we wandered over to Subway for their “Footlong” breakfast special, ideal fodder for a long distance cyclist!

Keith the early bird had already got a head start on the flying Dutchmen as they stayed and had breakfast with us before pedalling off up the steep hill out of town. Me and Tony downed our second coffee (free refills in the US!) and were just about to leave when the heavens opened. A quick check of weather.com showed some big storms crossing our path so we sat tight and surfed for a while whilst watching the Main Street turn into a river!

Eventually after a few hours in Subway we ventured out and got going. In the rain and humidity a waterproof jacket is pretty much a waste of time as your soon soaked through from sweat. After an hour things got a bit brighter and our day was spent getting wet and drying out in numerous downpours.

During one downpour I was flying along the road to Marshfield MO when a pick up pulled up close alongside me, the window came down and a local in a baseball cap and dungarees sporting the best strap beard I’ve ever seen, lent over his sons lap and yelled, “Wherz ya fram”, I gave him the usual spiel whilst trying to avoid going off the road. “Jeez, you and your buddy are plain crazy, best a luck ya hear”. I was left wobbling in his V8 exhaust smoke as he disappeared around the bend.

Our lunch stop at “Freda’s Up Town Cafe” in Marshfield MO found me sampling a new delight from the US, Key Lime Pie, mmmmmm. To top that after a bit of marketing consultancy on getting the cycling crowd into her Cafe, Freda gave us the pies on the house. Her Cafe is well worth a stop if your cycling through.

The weather got better by the afternoon, but we had another one of those days when accommodation options just don’t fall right. Camping at 40 miles or 76 miles were our options! We decided to push for the 76, but even with a Monster caffeine juice drink in me I was fading in the afternoon sun, then a slow puncture kicked in. We were 8 miles from our destination at the small town of Walnut Grove MO and our maps listed basic services but no accommodation, we pulled up at the cross roads to try and come up with a cunning plan.

As luck would have it the local Missouri Law Enforcement Department had one of it’s smart Interceptor cars sat in a drive way running a radar trap. We cycled over to the rotund officer sat in the car, who looked like he  had been concentrating more on eating donuts than ticketing speeding motorists. “Anywhere to camp in town officer” Tony enquired, “Well I know they occasionally let cyclists camp over there in the park”. At that point a car pulled up blocking the path of the radar gun, “That’s the Mayor ask him” exclaimed the Police officer.

The Mayor explained that the local Masonic Lodge were hosting a Bluegrass festival in the park the next day and we were more than welcome to camp there overnight. We rode round to the park and were immediately set upon by a large group of inquisitive local Masons, they were a great bunch of guys and we were chatting with them for ages. The Mayor pulled up in his pick up chewing tobacco and explained that he had allowed us to camp and that if any local turds (youth) showed up causing trouble we had his permission to give them a good kicking! Now that's how a town should be run!!

So we now found ourselves acting as Masonic Site Security Services for the Walnut Grove 2010 “Pickin In The Park” Bluegrass Festival in exchange for the use of their pavilion and rest room.

As the last of the Masons headed home one came over and said “We’ll be back for a big cooked breakfast at 8 in the morning and we’d like to invite you boys to join us”……

This morning I woke up on a Courthouse lawn 60 miles away, now I’m sat courtesy of the local Mayor and Masonic Lodge at a picnic table in the town park in Walnut Grove MO, lightning bugs are flitting around, a cool breeze is blowing and the sunset was amazing, we’ve got a free place to camp, free breakfast and have been chatting with a great bunch of old timers……… You just can’t make this stuff up…….!!!

To top that we even managed to get connected to a local WiFi network……

Night all……….. ah hang on!!!

Just heard the most amazing noise way off in the distance, a pack of Coyotes started howling, really eerie! Tony said that all the dogs in the town will kick off now…… right on queue they did, a canine uproar that’s still going on.

One Month On The Road

Martin, Case and Keith head out.....

Well time fly’s when your riding a bike...

It’s exactly one month today from when I pedalled out of the Holiday Inn in Newport News VA to head to the start of the Trans Am at Yorktown.

It seems like a lifetime ago, so much has happened, I’ve seen so many beautiful places and met some amazing people.

We’re a third of the way across now and Kansas is looming, we are hoping for tale winds as head winds will make this leg torture. We have met a few east bounders who have suffered this and the pain showed on their faces! There are five of us cycling together now so maybe a pelaton approach may help us cut through the wind a bit better!

I’m way passed the point where I feel I could give up, only a mechanical or physical problem will stop me now, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever doubted my ability to do this, it’s possibly just the fear of the unknown that makes you doubt yourself.

Off out into a rainy days ride now (there rare!). Thanks for following my blog, I’ll keep it updated as best I can.

Best wishes to all…….

Ohhhh Zarks

We departed Al’s Place in Farmington after our forced dental day off.

Chatting with Martin and Case, the Dutch father and son cyclists, they informed us that they wake very early to cycle before the heat of the afternoon and Keith from New Jersey, another member of the new west bound posse, agreed. So with this in mind we made another attempt at an early start.

This time it was successful, out of bed by 6 and on the road, Keith had already headed off, but after a few miles we were beckoned in by the lure of the golden arches. Not long after that Case and Martin pulled in too and then a bizarre thing happened….. the barber who cut my hair the day before walked in and said he had seen us riding out of town and wanted to wish us the best for our trip. How nice was that!

We were advised by Greg the City Manager to take a different route out of town to get into the Ozark Mountains, he reckoned the route on the map was suffering from a crumbling shoulder and was dangerous, so we listened to his advice and it paid off with a smooth fast route up to Pilot Knob MO.

We passed Martin and Case in a drive way fixing a puncture and took full “Wacky Racers” advantage by offering no help whatsoever and overtaking. This was immediately followed by three big dogs including an Alsatian and a Rottweileresque thing racing out of a driveway at us. A rarity for Missouri, dealt with by loud yells of “go home”, I must admit I was close to deploying pepper spray but resisted. Case told us that he deals with dogs by talking to them in a very low voice in Dutch, they can’t understand a word he says!!

Later we pulled into Johnson’s Shut Ins State Park, a strange field of boulders strewn about haphazardly after a dam burst. There was more geological importance to it than that, but I get bored reading display boards, especially when it’s hot and I need some lunch!!  Martin and Case had turned up so we joined them for lunch, the interactive displays making great bike stands!

The riding in the Ozarks is different to the Appalachians, shorter, steeper peaks, sometimes stepped but almost as energy zapping. There have also been a lot of log trucks on the road that travel at high speeds, making things a bit hairy at times

Arriving at Ellington we asked an old guy for directions to the city park. This turned out to be the Reynolds County Historian, Gerald Angel; he proceeded to lead us the mile to the park in his jeep as we followed behind in a cycle convoy.

The park seemed great and we set up in a typical timber pavilion; Keith was already there and he guided us round the freshly laid tarmac walking track. Soon the park was alive with people as a Little League baseball match kicked off and the flood lights came on. The concession food booth proved a great food stop, although Tony and I boiled up instant noodles and tuna just to lower the weight in our panniers!

A little later we were joined by a young lad called Jim on his BMX bike, he was obviously a regular visitor of Trans Amers camping in the Pavilion and he preceded to ask 101 questions. His red hair and close together eyes denoted him as a probable member of a local vertical gene pool and when I renamed him Redneck Junior, he replied “That’s what my Daddy calls me”!

The next minute Mr Angel turned up in his Jeep and drove straight over the still tacky tarmac. “I told my wife I’d come up and see how you boys were settling in”. Jim Redneck Junior and myself sat around a table listening to the 70+ year old local history buff tell us tales of when he found the Confederate fort on the hill, finding Indian arrow heads and tomahawks in the creek, “I found me an arra head to, din eye Mr Angel” interrupted Jim Redneck Junior with pride. “You did son and it’s now in the museum” Mr Angel replied.

After an hour of tales Mr Angel and Jim Redneck Junior went on their way and I wandered down to the concession stand with Case to get a round of Shaved Ice, the ideal night cap for a muggy Missouri night. Case had been watching the Little League Baseball as he’s a huge fan back home in Holland.

3 Turtles rescued today

In the early hours lightning flashed far off in the mountains but we avoided any storms, it’s eerie display lighting the night sky.

Keith woke around 5am and shortly after a car pulled up and a large man got out carrying a radio, he started to walk around the new walking track. He spotted us and killed the radio but carried on with his Doctor prescribed park work out. Keith was giggling away as he had witnessed similar work outs where the park walkers are either smoking as they walk or finish their laps and go and buy a fully justified donut!!!

At breakfast in the local diner we were warned of our days ride ahead, gesticulations from the locals in an uphill and side to side fashion seemed to say it all and it did. Our ride was extremely hard and for the first time on this trip all five of us didn’t make our destination, in this case Houston MO but had to cut short at Summersville MO after 50 miles.

Me and Tony were last into town after spotting a swimming hole on the Jacks Fork river at Alley Springs and spending a good 45 minutes chilling in the fresh mountain water. The $45 Motel was a welcoming if not basic sight but after a day of being tortured by the Ozarks we felt we had earned it.

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.