Days 26: Berea, KY, to Booneville, VIRGINIA

Today’s ride of 50 miles began with a long climb of about 5 miles to Bighill (a town appropriately named).

As with much of the week, the day began with clouds, mist, and a bit of drizzle:

As the day wore on (and we either climbed or descended) the weather improved:

Near the top of “Big Hill,” I experienced my first flat tire of this 1/2 of the journey:

After fixing the flat tire (a small rock or other debris in the median had caused a minor puncture in the tire and tube), I entered this appropriately named county:

The scenery was awesome along the way:

When Matthew and I arrived in Booneville, KY, we set up camp behind the First Presbyterian Church.  This was yet another small town church that made special accommodations for bicyclists.

We enjoyed a fine dinner prepared from supplies purchased at The Dollar Store (in many small towns, TDS included groceries). Dinner consisted of ham and cheese sandwiches and oranges.

Since the impacts of Subtropical Storm Alberto had lingered over the area, it had rained almost every night.  On this night, we guessed that it wouldn’t rain: 

It was a very hot night and we went to sleep sweating in our tents.  Near dawn, it did begin to rain and I moved my tent under the shelter.

Days 27: Booneville to Hindman, VA

Today’s journey was 54 miles and included progressively higher climbs as we entered the Appalachian Mountains.

Along the way, I met a family of five riding two bicycles (a tandem and a tandem with 3rd rider extension).  The kids ranged from about 4 to teenager.  As I was descending a steep slope, they were climbing it (by walking their bicycles; mom’s tandem had a trailer loaded down with gear).  I spoke with Mom and Dad and they were excited about the great adventure.  The younger kids, based on their expressions, weren’t so enthused.  I’m confident that their adventure will go down in the annuls of that family’s lore.

During a McDonald’s stop (waiting out yet another rainstorm), Matthew and I were greeted by two young male bicyclists who were very attentive to the lessons we shared.  Their eagerness and enthusiasm were infectious.

During the middle portion of the journey, I broke a spoke on the rear wheel.  I wasn’t too concerned given my previous experience and simply pushed on.

I didn’t take too many pictures today because it was a long one.  I was very patient with the climbs, stopping as necessary to catch my breath or simply cool off.

During this trip, I’ve encountered many horses along the way.  This one seemed especially excited about potential human interaction so I stopped to have a chat with it:

When I arrived in Hindman, Matthew was already settled at the Hindman Student Ministries. We had been referred there by Hindman Baptist Church since their hostel was not available on that day.  We were greeted by Seth and the Youth Minister, Steve.  They provided everything a cyclist could want (shower, kitchen, power, and coffee).

There was a youth program in progress that provided musical entertainment for us that evening.  I also met the father of some of the participating youth (he had five kids). He asked me about the Coast Guard Academy.

After replacing the spoke, I enjoyed a pizza from Paradise Pizza across the street (the only restaurant in town).

Matthew and I chose a couple of the couches to sleep on.  I later figured out that mine was a futon (lucky me!).

Days 28: Hindman to Elkhorn City, VA

Today was a 63-mile day, again with increasingly higher and more challenging climbs (four of them to be exact but who’s counting!).  

Early in the journey, Matthew and I ran across an ice cream shop. I enjoyed a most refreshing cone of black cherry soft serve ice cream.  Because of the climbs, we became accustomed to taking more breaks.

We often biked through long stretches of farmland or forest with no easy access to shelter.  We were blessed to be at the right place at the right time when it was apparent that severe weather was about to strike.  On the previous day, I arrived at a BP station in a little town called Hazard, KY, just moments before a severe wind and rain storm. 

Today, I saw this church, Glory Bound Freewill Baptist Church, looked up to the heavens, and decided that this would be a good rain stop:

Moments later, the wind kicked up and the rain came thundering down. This church provided an additional blessing (see the water spigot on the wall between the column and my bike), as I was running low on drinking water.

Here’s the vista from one of those climbs:

When I arrived in Elkhorn City, I was greeted by the symbol of the town:

Matthew was already there at a local church talking to a man named Terry, a coal entrepreneur (started his first business at the age of 21). He said that the church had no facilities. But, he called over a friend who called the mayor and secured permission for us to stay at city hall.

The mayor said that the door would be open and we could use the facility after the conclusion of a fitness class that ended at 7:10 pm.  We enjoyed dinner at Subway, and sure enough, walked into city hall and enjoyed a great stay there.  

Here’s yet another example of the incredible kindness of people like Mayor Mike Taylor.  Amazing!

We decided to stay in Elkhorn City instead of camping at The Breaks Interstate Park because of the certain threat of rain.  Once in city hall, the rain began and continued for most of the night.  Matthew and I once again counted our blessings!

Days 29: Elkhorn City to Rosedale, VA

Today’s short (49-mile) ride started with a climb to The Breaks Interstate Park with its stunning vistas:

As I climbed the next hill, lo’ and behold, I saw the last state welcome sign of the journey:

This was a high-five moment for Matthew and me. While this is a remarkable trip, we dearly miss our families.

Most of the early portion of the trip was rainy and drizzly. Since we were in the mountains, we energized our rear lights so passing motorists could see us.  

Along the way, I stopped at a diner for a cheeseburger and potato slices.  It was the only food joint for miles and it had only been open three weeks.  The place was packed with people!

I stopped at another church for a rain delay (heavy rain).

When I arrived in Rosedale, I was greeted by this sign marking a 20-year old hostel hosted by the Elk Garden United Methodist Church:

We stayed in the church hall at the back of the sanctuary.  There was a gazebo with picnic tables for our bikes, a full kitchen (with food and snacks), and a shower.  This is yet another great place for weary bicyclists to stop! And one more church to which I must send a thank you letter.

I took the opportunity to perform some maintenance on the bike, including adjusting the rear brakes that had gotten so much use riding down steep slopes and through hairpin turns. I should note that the last hill I climbed today was in conjunction with a summit called Big A Mountain.  How appropriate!

Days 30: Rosedale to Troutdale, VA

Today’s goal was to ride the 62 miles to Troutdale.  

The first third of the ride was pleasant as we followed a stream (uphill of course):

During the second third, Matthew convinced me to take a detour called the Virginia Creeper Trail. 

There were many bicyclists and hikers on the trail and it was nice to have the more frequent human interaction.  And it was a beautiful ride with many bridges across rivers and streams.  But I still don’t like gravel because the vibrations tend to increase numbness in my hands and arms.  I persevered through this portion.

Matthew and I enjoyed lunch at the Damascus Diner. 

Damascus struck me as similar to the towns in Northern Virginia.  As compared to earlier in this trip, there are more SUVs than pick up trucks.  Farmers and ranchers have been replaced by predominately city folk.  More cars pass us with their music blasting.  Homes now have security system signs prominently displayed.  Things seem drastically different as we get closer to the East Coast.

During the third third of the ride, there weren’t any good water stops and I found myself going into my reserve water for the first time this year.  It wasn’t overly hot but the increasing pace of climbing requires greater water consumption.

I continued to enjoy the aroma of honeysuckle and stopped to take in the scent of this massive hedge:

After Damascus, the landscape returned to farmland:

When I got to Troutdale and took the programmed left turn.  I saw a church on my right but thought that the town would be after the programmed turn (using Adventure Cycling Association maps).  I climbed another mile-long hill and decided that I had been misled by the map. I didn’t have cell service so I couldn’t check Google Maps. So I flagged down a passing motorist who verified that I needed to turn back. I hate wrong turns; especially when they involving steep climbs!

I zoomed down one hill only to have to climb another hill to get to that church.  At the top, I found Matthew and an Appalachian Trail hiker named Joe from Pennsylvania (he retired from the Postal Service after 40 years). 

They had taken up residence in a beautiful hostel facility provided by Troutdale Baptist Church. I appreciated the special touches provided at this hostel: towels for the shower, coffee in the cabins, pillows and pillow cases, and an actual clothes line with clothes pins.

We enjoyed an evening of camaraderie. I learned a lot from Joe about the nuances of Appalachian hiking (probably not something that I plan to add to the bucket list though!).

Days 31 & 32: Troutdale to Christianburg, VA (Are we there yet?)

Today, Matthew and I decided to go for it.  We agreed that if we could get to Christianburg, then we could take a day off. 

The trip ended up being over 92 miles long. And, more significantly, it encompassed a seemingly never ending series of mini-climbs that totaled over a mile of elevation gain. (Said another way, the effort it takes to climb 100 52-feet high steep hills is essentially  the same that it takes to climb one mile-long hill).

For me, this was the longest day of this half of the TransAmerica Trail (I was on the bike for 10 hours). 

I enjoyed some great downhill rides early in the day. Again, our day started with clouds and the threat of rain.  But my first descent brought us sunshine.

For a time, I paralleled I-81. And then I swung north to Radford, VA.  The route took me through Wildwood Park where a local photographer stopped me and took my picture.

Since I was riding for most of the day, I didn’t take a lot of photographs.  Here’s a couple of scenery shots:

When I arrived in Christianburg, a fairly large town, I called Matthew and discovered that our hotel was another 3.9 miles south of town.  He was there to greet me when I peeled myself off the bike.

We enjoyed a most delicious meal of meatloaf at Cracker Barrel.  

I spent the day off resting my aching muscles, updating this blog, and performing a deep cleaning of the bicycle.

For dinner on our rest day, we ate all-you-can-eat popcorn shrimp at Fatback Soul Shack. The meal included unlimited sides and I enjoyed collard greens, green fried tomatoes, chili, and sweet potato casserole.

This meal will fortify me for tomorrow when it’s back on the road to Yorktown, VA!

Days 18: Murphysboro to Eddyville, IL

Today’s ride was 66 miles.  We enjoyed an overcast and relatively cool day, with a few short spurts of rain and drizzle.

Early in the ride, we passed a couple of large lakes.  As I approached the first one, I noticed a bobcat in an open field.  Once it detected me, it took about three large leaps into the trees.

As I approached the lake, I saw two older gentlemen fishing in a boat near the shore.  It was a very placid scene and I didn’t stop to take a picture because the fishermen were so close to the road.  I waved at the men and of the gentlemen shouted, “It’s a good day to be alive!”  I couldn’t agree more!

Later, I noted two swans gliding along Little Grassy Lake. 

Matthew took this picture of me when we stopped to admire the scenery:

The first third of the ride was very serene and pleasant.  During the second third, I was surprised by a number of Ozark-like climbs.  Even though the temperatures were in the 60’s, I found myself sweating profusely as I gutted out these steep climbs.

The last third of the ride was a bit more forgiving.  This day was pretty characteristic of the bicycling “environment” in Kentucky.  The pain of climbing is balanced by the pleasure of the scenery and kind people.

When we arrived in Eddyville, we stopped at the only convenience store in town for a cold drink.  The owner, named Nancy, also sold antiques.  Matthew and I enjoyed a snack there, came back for pizza (many of the convenience stores sell Hunt Pizza), and returned the next morning for coffee. 

Nancy advised us on the best camping opportunities.  We decided to climb the hill and stay at Hayes Canyon Campground and Cabins, a horse camp ground run by Ben and Patti.  When we arrived at the office, we were greeted by their three kids who each presented us with pieces of fruit.

We were allowed to stay in the Cowboy Church for free.  The inspiring hospitality included a dry and cool place to sleep, hot showers, and laundry machines.

During the evening, we met a family from Wisconsin. They gave us a tour of their combo camper (1/2 for people and 1/2 for horses) and introduced us to their two horses.  They shared a cold beverage with us as well.

We met a number of horse people that night and came to a deeper appreciation their special passion for horses.

Days 19: Eddyville, IL, to Marion, KY

Today’s ride was 44 miles. It included a ferry ride across the Ohio River, and crossing into Kentucky.

We left early and were amazed at the “clouds” of gnats that hovered over the fields.  There were millions of gnats in each cloud cluster.  I first thought that it was fog mist.

We encountered a few loose dogs along the way (dog encounters have been generally increasing since Illinois).  Kentucky is known for dogs coming after cyclists. Thus far, I’ve had dogs attempt to “attack” my panniers (side bags), dogs run in front of me (with intent to intercept me), and dogs run and bark on each side of me. If I can get up to 20 miles per hour, I can outrun most of them. But I’ve found the best strategy is to simply maintain speed, look the dogs in the eye, and shout short commands like, “Back off.”

Since Matthew is generally riding ahead of me, he either fires the dogs up before I get there, or tuckers them out. We’ve observed very different reactions from the same groups of dogs.  I carry the same mace that postal workers carry, and keep it at the ready on my handlebars.  The top of the can is red and I surmise that the dogs stay clear when they see the can. I haven’t used the mace to date, and plan to deploy it only as a last resort. Most of the dogs are just doing what dogs do… chase things!

When we arrived at the town of Cave in Rock, we took a ferry across the Ohio River.

Here’s a picture of the line of cars waiting for the ferry, and me on with Illinois to my back.

Here are pictures of me with Kentucky at my back, and at the welcome sign:

When we arrived in Marion, KY, we decided to check out the Marion Methodist Church, which offers their school as a place for cyclists to stay.  I called Pastor David and was connected with Mr. Donnie, a neighbor who gave us access to the church facility.

The only fee for their hospitality is that we fill out a log entry in their guest log, which we were happy to do.  They even took our pictures and attached them to our entry.  Their logs go all the way back to the beginning of the TransAmerica Trail in 1976.

We enjoyed dinner at Anna Mae’s Restaurant, known for their southern cooking.  I enjoyed their meatloaf, okra, and cornbread. 

After dinner, we met Pastor David and his wife and were able to thank them directly for their kindness.

Days 20: Marion to Utica, KY

Today’s ride was 69 miles. The scenery reflected the genteel spirit of Kentucky. I recall the hedges of honeysuckle that border many of the roads, providing a most pleasant scent as I biked along.

Speaking of scent, I’ve become accustomed to near daily allergy effects, from an itchy throat, to an occasional cough (often while climbing), to watery eyes.  Between the oak pollen, cotton wood pollen snowing from the trees, and other allergic triggers, I’ve accepted it all as part of the deal.  While biking, I’m pumping so much liquid through my body that the allergic impacts are minimized.  My eyes don’t generally become bloodshot until after I’m done with the day’s ride. 

We’ve seen an increase in the number of TransAmerica Trail cyclists we encounter going West.  Thus far, no one has passed us heading East.  Today, we met two Dutchmen. We’ve also crossed paths with many Americans and cyclists from Belgium, Germany, and Australia. Many are also blogging along the way.  Several make it a habit of taking pictures of other TransAm’rs they meet along the way. I’m often curious about where my picture will end up given some of the other characters we’ve met!

I note the consistently courteous way that Kentucky drivers treat us.  Since we are often biking through windy roads or upslopes, motorists have been extremely patient and given us the room we need to make it up the hill or pull off the road (in the few places where we can).

When we arrived in Utica, we went to the Utica Fire House. The side door is often kept open for cyclists.  We were told to call a phone number posted on the door.  There was no number so we let ourselves in.  A couple of community members came in to reserve the fire house community room in a community calendar and they told us to make ourselves at home.  As other cyclists had advised us, we located a hot shower and laundry in the back. 

I enjoyed another Hunt Pizza for dinner.  At the firehouse, Matthew and I watched a VHS tape of “The Rundown” with Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, for a bit of mindless entertainment.

In the early morning hours, one of the volunteers apparently came to the fire station to take out a piece of equipment to respond to a local emergency.  After I awoke, I heard the siren in the distance and saw the emergency vehicle zoom past.  Matthew and I were amazed that the individual had taken the vehicle without waking us.

This is yet another example of a cyclist-friendly community.  I plan to write the fire chief a note of thanks when I return. Meanwhile, “thumbs up” to the Utica Fire Department.

Days 21: Utica to Falls of Rough, KY

Today’s ride was 49 miles. It was a good ride.

My legs are generally aching all the time but I’ve gotten used to it.  I pushed through a few days of pain in my right knee (probably due to an overworked ligament).  I kept waiting for the knee to swell but it never did. Matthew can now recite one of my favorite Marine Corps sayings, “Pain is weakness leaving the body.”

Along the route, we came across this fascinating history:

And this is typical of the Kentucky farmland that we biked through.  Today, we enjoyed generally traffic-free roads:

.

When we arrived at the Falls of Rough, we scouted around for suitable camping facilities.  We were attracted to the Corps of Engineer’s run Rough River Axtel Campground because it is situated on a lake.

When we arrived at the entrance gate, Jo the ranger told us that the camp was full since we were heading into Memorial Day Weekend.  At this point, I informed her that I was a disabled veteran and holder of a National Park Service special access card.  She said that she’d find a way to make it work and thankfully gave us a one-day pass for a small campground just down the road.  The facility even had hot showers.  Thank you, Jo, and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.

Days 22: Falls of Rough to Buffalo, KY

Today’s ride was 55 miles. When I got up after a peaceful night of camping, I was mentally alert but physically fatigued.  My legs felt like they hadn’t rested at all.  Since I knew that I was close to taking a prized day off, I decided to push on to Buffalo, and simply dial back my level of effort along the way.  Fortunately, the landscape consisted of rolling hills on only a couple of gut-wrenching climbs.

Along the way, we met Eastbound Trans’Amrs Kevin and Rosie (Rosie had a Brooklyn accent and bragged about her age (something about Social Security)).

We also decided to take a detour to visit Lincoln’s Birthplace:

As an aside, Matthew likes to have a beer or two at the end of the ride.  I’d watched his frustration grow as we bicycled through dry county after dry county.  Buffalo was yet another such stop.

Our maps don’t list any camping or hostel facilities in Buffalo.  So we decided to stop at the Buffalo Baptist Church and inquire around.  The facility was locked and didn’t have any numbers to call.  So I decided to visit an adjacent house (thinking it might be the Pastor’s home). As I approached the house, a woman named Lisa came out.  She mentioned that her sister-in-law is the church secretary and that she would go to her home to tell her about the visiting cyclists.  

As we waited, Matthew and I went to the sole restaurant in town, Pizza Zone, managed by Beth and her family. I ordered an Italian Sub, which was a very delicious pepperoni pizza rolled into a sandwich.

When we returned to the church, we set up our tents.  Shortly thereafter, Glen, a retired school principal and church member, pulled up and said that we could stay inside.  We were more than comfortable staying in tents but, when he opened the door to the church hall, we immediately pulled up our tents and accepted his offer. Glen offered to reimburse use for dinner and even pay for breakfast.  We declined this latter support.  Matthew almost teared up with the kindness of yet another offer of unimaginable support.

The church hall is the tan building in back of the church:

The hall didn’t have a shower but it had a full kitchen and, one of the most treasured items for any cyclist, an ice machine. Thank you, Bro. David Waddle, Glen, and the Buffalo Baptist Church family!

Days 23: Buffalo to Harrodsburg, KY

Today’s ride was 71 miles. It was a hot and humid day but a good ride nonetheless.  My legs, though fatigued, continued to perform as needed.

I took this photo to show that the hills are getting larger:

As we went through one small town, Matthew and I stopped to admire a convoy of old cars:

I took this photo of rolled hay bales.  As we continued east, the bales were wrapped in white plastic, resembling large marshmallows:

Here’s a photo of a store that I knew Matthew would be inspired by.  As I guessed, he did stop there:

During today’s ride, we ran into our first ACA-organized group of 10 cyclists heading West.  One woman had broken her wrist but had the fortitude to catch up with the group by train two days later to resume riding.  We met the group leader in McDonald’s during a rest stop.

When we arrived in Harrodsburg, we checked in with the local fire station only to find that it is manned full-time, and therefore not available to cyclists. 

We cycled another 2-3 miles out of town to the local community park where we camped.  There we met a young couple from Annapolis who were heading West.

I grabbed a Subway sandwich along the way as dinner.

Since we were in the middle of Memorial Day Weekend, we shared the pavilion with a family that was celebrating their daughter’s high school graduation.  There was also a private party at the adjacent pool, which Matthew walked into unassumingly. Both parties broke up before dark and we enjoyed a quiet night’s rest.

Days 24 and 25: Harrodsburg to Berea, KY

Today’s ride was was 54 miles and included a detour because of a closed bridge over Herrington Lake. Today was a hot day (sunny most of the day) but our effort was fueled by the knowledge that Berea would be a rest day.

There were a few hard climbs along the way but I actually enjoyed cruising through some of the rolling hills.

Our detour brought us to the town of Danville, KY, one of the most impressive towns I’ve visited during the entire TranAmerica journey.  It’s one place that I would come back to visit with my wife.

Here are some historical markers located near historic downtown Danville.

I also met a local wood artist named Duke who was carving a tree truck with symbols of local history.

As we continued on our journey, I took this picture of a rock-lined river that is characteristic of this area of Kentucky:

During one extended climb, I stopped to take this picture of one of the tree-lined roads we cycled along (with deep appreciation for the shade and those sweet smelling honey suckle bushes).

As I was nearing the top of this particular road, a woman named Donna stopped her van and informed me that she owned a bike water stop about a mile away.  She encouraged me to stop.  I thanked her for her kindness.

When I arrived a the top of the road, here’s what I found:

The welcoming signage:

Matthew cooling out in the rest area, complete with iced water and sodas, and snacks.

And the permanent residents on Donna’s property, the Bluegrass Texas Longhorns:

Thank you, Donna, for providing an oasis in the desert!

When we arrived in Berea, Matthew made a beeline to America’s Best Value. He ended up getting the same deal from the owner, Rakesh, that he negotiated with ABVI at our last rest stop.  Thank you, Rakish!

I spent this precious rest day resting the tired muscles, catching up on this blog, and cleaning the bike. 

Since going back to Kansas, I’ve bicycled 1275 miles. My on-the-bike average day is about 57 miles.  I’m feeling great and am looking forward to the last couple of stretches of this journey.

With Subtropical Alberto influencing the weather in the neighborhood, the next few days promise to be exciting ones.  Stay tuned!

Day 7: Eureka to Chanute, KS

Today was a relatively easy 63 mile ride (as easy as 63 miles goes, that is), although it was a bit hot. 

Here’s a picture of Matthew and me at a historical marker, courtesy of a motorist who also stopped at the marker and asked us where we were headed:

Here’s a picture of a piece of very patriotic folk art that I took note of on the side of a building in one of the small towns we passed:

Upon entering the very massive public park complex in Chanute, KS, I was approached by a pastor named Bill who asked me to speak to his bicycling group (ages 12-92) later that evening about what motivated me to ride the TransAmerica Trail.  

After setting up camp and getting cleaned up, I biked over to where the group was meeting and briefly shared my TransAmerica story to date.  I had several individuals from the group stop by my camp later that evening to engage in further conversation.

I cooked camp food that night (Ramen soup and beef stew) since I was too tired to bike into town for a meal.

Days 8 and 9: Chanute to Pittsburg, KS

On Day 8, Matthew and I biked from Chanute to Pittsburg, KS, a distance of about 60 miles. We enjoyed a mostly overcast day.

Along the way, I passed a rare golf course with two golfers enjoying the game.  They appeared to be the only players on the course:

I must admit that I thought it would be nice to be doing something normal like enjoying a game of golf!  And then I biked on…

I also encountered the first train crossing my path:

The Bristol Biker (Matthew Moran) and I continue to follow the buddy system.  We start out together and stop a pre-planned rally points to get a cold drink and agree on the next leg of the journey.  Matthew is a more experienced and skilled cyclist so he is always ahead of me.  He often sends me a text saying where he has stopped.  He especially alerts me if he’s discovered a McDonald’s along the way.  He’s a terrific traveling companion and quite the humorist!

When we arrived in Pittsburg, we decided that the city park was as good as any hotel.  We also decided to add a day of rest.

On the first night, we went to Napoli’s restaurant and enjoyed a fabulous Italian dinner.

At the camp site, we were joined by another cyclist, Bill, who was heading home to Colorado.  We built a fire in the fire pit and Bill entertained us with his ukulele (which he carries on the back of his bike!)

On my rest day, I headed off to the library to record the last blog entry.  I must admit that this trip is going very fast and that some of the details become more foggy over time.  Fortunately, Matthew is available to sharpen the details that I can’t recall.

Day 10: Pittsburg to Ash Grove, KS

Today was a 73-mile day. Shortly after leaving Pittsburg, we crossed into Missouri, the Show Me State:

For the fashion consultants out there, please forgive that my pictures generally show me in the same bicycling outfit.  For this 1/2 of my journey, I downsized to only two biking shorts and two biking shirts. I try to wash out the outfit on a daily basis. If I don’t get to it, the rain is certain to help!

Today was the start of our journey through the Ozark Mountains, dreaded by cyclists across the world for its extreme slopes.  Today provided only a taste of what was to come.

While transiting the Ozarks, Matthew and I tended to take more frequent cold beverage breaks, including at a biker bar we ran across in the middle of nowhere.

When we arrived in Ash Grove at the city park, we were greeted by Mike,  who runs the cyclist hostel on the property.  Two West bound TransAmer’s, Phil and Alan, were there at the hostel as well.

Matthew and I had become so accustomed to camping that we decided to pitch out tents in the adjoining park area. We were not enamored with the thought of sleeping in an air conditioned space.  We thanked Mike, and his wife, Cindy, for their kindness. Mike gave us several helpful recommendations, including shortening our next day’s trip because of the severity of the Ozark Mountain climbs in the area.

For dinner, we ate convenience store chicken, which I rated as worst meal ever on my TransAm journey (ok, maybe I had something similar during the first 1/2 of the journey). 

While we were out shopping, I suspect that some frolicking kids tumbled into my tent, collapsing it.  I later found permanent bends in my tent poles. Try as we might, Matthew and I couldn’t straighten the poles. Fortunately, the tent continues to be serviceable.

Matthew later found two precious items of his missing from the clothes he left drying on a picnic table: a red bandana and a black long sleeve t-shirt (which he used to discourage those pesky mosquitos). 

These were the first mischievous things that happened to our unattended stuff during the journey.  We figured that kids will be kids. Matthew was quick to replace the bandana at the next Walmart opportunity.

Otherwise, we enjoyed a quiet and restful night.

Day 11: Ash Grove to Marshfield, MO

Today, we biked 50 miles through more intense hills.  It was a hard ride and the temperatures and humidity were elevated.  There was a constant threat of rain, which would have been a welcome relief!

I took more breaks along the way to avoid heat exhaustion (I could tell that the heat was getting to me when I would sweat profusely, actually hear my heart pounding during extreme climbs, and notice the feeling a loss in stamina in my legs).  After a few moments in the shade to catch my breath, and a drink of water, I was able to continue nearly as strong as ever.

We crossed paths with a couple of West-bound TransAm’rs. There was an increasing drumbeat to these encounters as more TransAm’rs hit the trail.

Here’s a picture of me as I was crossing U.S. Highway 66:

We camped at the county fairgrounds, near the rodeo area.  Except for the cold showers, this site had everything we needed, including electrical power.  It rained all night and the train whistles were a constant source of irritation for Matthew (I tended to sleep through them).

As we entered town, I noticed a sign for Mongolian BBQ. When we went to dinner, we found that the place was closed.  But there was a Chinese restaurant (more of a diner) open nearby where we feasted on American-style Chinese food.

Day 12: Marshfield to Bendavis, MO

It rained this morning so we had a slow start as we packed our wet camping gear.  We stopped at Casey’s General Store (a chain) for coffee before embarking on a 47-mile journey.

We “enjoyed” 3 impossibly steep climbs but I felt that my climbing abilities were improving with each day.

We stopped in Hartville at LJD’s Cafe where where our server introduced herself as “Amazing Amanda.” This was a great rest break because the place was cool and the Cokes were cold.

I passed sheep, a peacock, and many turtles attempting to cross the road.  There were so many turtles that Matthew and I discontinued our practice of helping them all across the road.  That would have been a dangerous maneuver with all the hills and blind crests.

Although I was a grueling day, I did capture this river scene:

We also entered logging country and began to pull over to allow the unyielding logging trucks to zoom by us, especially as we approached the crest of a hill. For most of our time in Missouri, there were no shoulders along the road.

While the following sign was always a welcome sight in the Rockies, it signaled anxiety for me in the Ozarks.

As compared to the Rockies, I actually achieved greater speeds over shorter distances cruising down the downhill inclines in the Ozarks.  But I quickly learned that every extreme downhill was immediately followed by another extreme uphill.

When we arrived in Bendavis, we went to the local grocery store (more like an agricultural supply store).  We were greeted by the owner, Alan,  who showed us the customary cyclist’s camp site behind the store. We later met co-owner Rebecca and their five kids.

We passed the heat of the afternoon at the store and met some inspiring individuals, like John the rancher, and another John the veteran.  We were treated to a home-cooked meal by a local family, making this the best meal ever during my TransAm journey. This small town with a population of about 7 embraced us as members of their family. 

Matthew and I witnessed Americana at it’s very best! Bendavis stands as my most memorable stop along the TransAm.

We enjoyed another restful night, only to be awoken to the sound of rain (again).

Day 13: Bendavis to Alley Spring, MO

Today, I powered through the multiple climbs over a 55-mile journey. Temperatures were favorable and the skies were mostly overcast.  

I passed four West-bound TransAm’rs. Since I was rapidly descending and they were struggling in their climbs, we didn’t stop to exchange greetings.  There’s an unwritten rule here I guess… don’t unnecessary slow momentum or stifle progress.

The National Park Service Alley Springs Campground is really, really nice, and is situated along the Jack’s Fork River.  The bathrooms and showers are world-class.  

After setting up camp, a motorcycle camper named Albert offered us hamburgers.  And a truck camper named Linda gave us a whole pizza that her sister Lisa had retrieved from an adjacent town.  We were struck by their friendliness and generosity.

We turned in early only to be awakened by a severely hard rain.  This was the most forceful rain I’ve experienced in a tent to date.  My tent didn’t leak a drop.  Matthew was similarly fortunate. 

When we woke up (it was still raining), we counted our blessings that we had each pitched our tents on high spots in our campsite since the lower spots were flooded.  We also noticed that several trees had come down in the storm.

Here are shots of our campground and the adjacent river:

Here we go again… biking with wet camping gear (it’s much heavier than desired)!

Day 14: Alley Spring to Ellington, MO

Today, we intended to bike about 40 miles to Centerville, MO. But after 33 of the most grueling miles on the TransAmerica Trail (to date), even Matthew decided that we’d had enough.  We had been physically and emotionally worn down with extreme climb after extreme climb. As for me, I wasn’t physically shattered but cracks in the glass were evident.

As we were catching our breath in Ellington, a lady named Christy pulled up in her truck and told us about the Chamber of Commerce bike hostel just a block  away. She convinced us to stay in Ellington because the weather was forecast to be wet (ruling out our intention to camp in Centerville) and because Ellington has a grocery store where we could get fresh fruit.

Here’s a picture of a hot, tired, and bit soggy Matthew at the bench where Christy met us. He was checking in with home:

The hostel had a hot shower and camping cots for our sleeping bags.  The adjacent pavilion gave us a place to dry out our drenched camping gear.

We enjoyed outstanding food at Checko’s Mexican Restaurant and helped soothe our aching muscles with a pitcher of margaritas.

We retired early to our cots only to be awaken near midnight by a spontaneous beer party likely involving every one of the young adults that live in the town.  I was amused to hear a variation of music that I can only describe as country rap.  Fortunately, a neighbor came by to encourage the kids to party more quietly. They promptly complied.

It went on to rain for much of the night so we were thankful to be in a dry place.

Day 15: Ellington to Farmington, MO

After a restful night, we decided to push on with the 61 miles to Farmington. We enjoyed coffee at a local cafe before heading out.

It rained for much of the day, providing some relief.  There were a lot more turtles on the road but also a lot more trucks that required us to pull off on the shoulder.  Most of the truckers were very respectful but one or two “buzzed” us to within a few inches, as if to remind us who’s King of the Road.

We took a water break at Missouri State Park HQ. I took a Coke break at a convenience store when I received a text from Matthew that simply said, “Big M.”  He found a McDonand’s just down the road and I sprinted to join him.  I enjoyed a Big Mac meal.

We arrived at Farmington in style.  It’s one of the most sophisticated towns along the route.

As we were arriving at the town’s bike hostel, named Al’s Place in tribute to a local biker who lost his battle to cancer, we met West bound TransAm’r Dan from New Jersey.  The city has dedicated the old city jail, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, in Al’s honor.  After surveying the hostel together, we all agreed that it is a gem of a place and more than worth the suggested donation of $20.   It even has a laundry and locked storage for bicycles.

Here’s a picture of Al’s Place, and a picture of me and Dan:

We ate at the local Bar and Grill, which had a full food menu and impressive bar menu. Dan, 30+ years our junior,  listened attentively to the lessons we shared about biking ergonomics, basic bike tools, on-the-road nutrition, and safety items such as a mirror.  Dan wasn’t enjoying his TransAm experience as much as we were so we were eager to share tips that would enhance the remainder of his journey.

Days 16 and 17: Farmington, MO to Murphysboro, IL

Today, on day 16, we decided to go for broke and ride 85 miles to Murphysboro. The climbing profile was much kinder than previous days. We stopped in St. Marys, MO, and, after crossing the Mississippi River, in Chester, IL, home of Popeye the Sailor.

We took a popular TransAmerica detour along the Mississippi Levee Alternative, which gave us a keen sense of just how fragile agriculture communities along the Big Muddy really are.

Here’s the long and narrow bridge we crossed to get over the Mississippi (it reminded me of the sad shape of U.S. infrastructure–I couldn’t help but inspect the crumbling concrete as I rode along!):

Here’s me at the Illinois line:

Here’s one of the many Popeye tributes in Chester, IL:

After riding the levee system for 20+ miles, we found a bar called the Bottom’s Up in Jacob (vicinity of Neunert), IL, and met BJ, Bob, and other patrons, and Christy the owner.  They advised us to stay put since there was a serious threat of severe weather.  We watched the radar, frequently looked outside, and waited it out for 3 hours, where I consumed cold Cokes and ate lunch (grilled chicken sandwich).  As forecast, the heavens open up in impressive ways. Once again, fortune was with us!

BJ offered us a warm place to stay at his home. He even offered to load up our bikes in his truck and drive us to Murphysboro.  After the main cell passed, we decided to press on by bicycling to Murphysboro.  We made it to town with daylight to spare and without nearly a drop of rain.

Matthew beat me to America’s Best Value Inn where he negotiated a fabulous rate for two rooms for two nights. We appreciate the hospitality of Christian, and his father, motel owner Ramesh, who happens to also be from England.  We enjoyed a great stay.

The first night, we ate at Sergio’s Mexican Restaurant, and the food was superb.  The second night, we ate at the world famous 17th Street BBQ, again enjoying a fabulous meal.

We used the extra day to rest our aching muscles, tune up our bicycles, and get ready for the next week’s journey.  It was a magnificent post-Ozark break!

Day 0: Flying to Garden City, KS

Today, I flew American Airlines from Washington Reagan to Garden City, KS, airport with a connection in Dallas. My day started off with a 5:30 am call from American indicating that my flight to Dallas had been cancelled because of predicted bad weater.  They were trying to rebook me to arrive in Garden City at around 11 pm.  That wouldn’t have been a good way to start so I convinced them to book me on an earlier flight to Dallas so that I could make the same connection that I already had.

My wife drove me to the airport an hour earlier than planned.  After a warm goodbye, I headed into the terminal. 

I was a bit anxious about taking all my electronics, batteries, and freeze-dried foods through TSA but I made it though with ease.

My flight to Dallas was delayed for about 45 minutes and I received a text from American Airlines saying that I was likely to miss my connection to Garden City.  When I arrived at Dallas, I scampered to another terminal to see if my connection was still there.  Although the information screen indicated that the flight was on time, I was relieved when I arrived to find that the connection was actually running late since the pilot had arrived at the airport yet.  

I settled in on the commuter aircraft and enjoyed a “lunch” of airline pretzels and some delicious poundcake baked by my wife.

When I arrived in Garden City, my first challenge was that there are no taxis waiting for arriving passengers.  I called the hotel and found out that Maria owned one of the two taxi companies.  After checking Uber (there was one in town but too expensive and too far away), I called Maria and arranged a pick up in 10 minutes.  While waiting, I noted the stiff wind blowing outside (see picture below):

The wind was blowing from the north and that was the direction that I needed to bike towards the next day.

Since I knew that I would run out of daylight if I was to assemble the bike and ride to Target, I arranged to have Maria drop me off there on the way to the hotel.  She was very gracious in supporting me and I was able to pick up some camping fuel that I had purchased online.

When I arrived at the hotel, I was overjoyed to find my bike in a box stored behind the reception counter.  Here’s a shot of the boxed bike, packed courtesy of Jacob at Bikenetic:

Forgive my unusual excitement about a box, but it’s presence at the right place at the right time demonstrates that the success of this type of endeavor relies on good logistics.  Bikeflights.com is my new go-to company to ship a bike where ever I need it!

After getting to my hotel room, the first thing I did was to uncrate the bike parts.  After a moment of panic when I thought that the front bike rack was missing (it was cradled under the back tire), I was satisfied that everything made it in great shape! 

I ate a burger and fries at a Mexican Restaurant, El Zarape.  I took special note that the beef for the burger was very fresh.  After dinner, I was exhausted, so I decided to assemble the bike and pack all my stuff in the morning.

Day 1: Bicycling to Scott City, KS, to Rejoin the TransAmerica Route

I sprang up at 6 am and assembled the bike and packed my panniers (the bike luggage).  I went for a very satisfying test ride.  I cut up the bike box and tossed it in the dumpster.  I gave Rick at the hotel front desk my luggage and duffel bag that I no longer needed. I consumed coffee, a banana and oatmeal at the breakfast provided by the hotel.  I was on the road by 9:30 am.

For four and one-half hours, I battled the wind riding north to Scott City.  My bike computer died (it must have been accidentally turned on during travel), so I was situationally unaware of how far I had left to go during the journey but I knew that I was heading north. I stopped a couple of times to check Google Maps on my phone. 

The picture below shows the bike with a leaner pack (no backpack in the back). It also shows the 8-feet wide medians that I enjoyed during this particular ride.  Note the direction and ferocity of the wind as shown by the flag:

In spite of the wind, I enjoyed the sights, smells, and sensations of the ride.  I saw and heard blackbirds and greeted two beautiful tan horses and many cows. 

I came across large stockyards.  I guessed from the sign below that these weren’t milking cows:

As I rode up to the fence line, there were many cows there.  As I approached closer, they were unusually skittish, and ran en mass away from me.  I surmised that they could sense that I had eaten one of their kin the night before!

I encountered a very large badger that looked like it was sleeping in the median (I think it was dead but didn’t stop to check).  

I was surrounded by the smell of agriculture and didn’t even mind the wafts of cow manure along the way.  On the negative side, I instinctively braced for potential slime attacks as several swine trucks passed me. But there was no repeat of the slime incident from my past.

In terms of sensations, it was a very peaceful ride.  The legs felt good.  Heart rate and cadence were in the zone.  The bike performed masterfully. I had done everything necessary to ensure a good re-start of this journey.

As I rode into Scott City, I was compelled to stop by the hospital to pay homage to those who treated me there. This photo shows just how beautiful a day it was outside, with temperatures roughly 40 degrees cooler than the last time I was in Scott City.

I planned to stay at the Scott City Athletic Club and was greeted by Debbie upon my arrival.  Debbie was very supportive of me during my last stay at the club, along with her team, Chris, Esme, and Chris (son of the first Chris).  They arranged for me to sleep on a mattress in the gymnasium, a very cool and quiet place.  

I ate a fish sandwich and salad at Tate’s Restaurant. When I returned to the Athletic Club, I recharged my electronics and hit the sack.

Day 2: Back on the TransAmerica Trail!

I was excited to get back on the trail so I got up early, stowed my gear, ate a banana, and hit the road.   It was about 40 degrees outside with a cloudless sky.

During the first hour, the temperature increased 20 degrees. I was passed by only 10 cars and 3 trucks.  I enjoyed a favorable wind.

Over the course of 55 miles to Ness City, KS, I enjoyed a very serene ride. 

Once again, I appreciated scenes of American agriculture at work:

As tractors and other heavy equipment were plowing and tilling the fields, I would either time my approach to avoid the plume of dust (dirt) or simply hold my breath.  The level of effort required to feed us is amazing!

I endeavor to stop at all historical markers along the way.  This one was especially significant to me:

I arrived in Ness City by noon and checked in with the Sheriff’s Office to arrange to camp at City Park.  After cleaning up, I went to the local U.S. Post Office to charge up my devices. I couldn’t help notice the history of this post office:

When I arrived back at camp, I was greeted by another touring cyclist, Matthew Moran, a delightful gentleman from Bristol, England.  Matthew was the first cycling I’ve encountered during this trip and our meeting was a most pleasant surprise. 

Matthew started his journey east in San Francisco, dipping south to capture Route 66 and avoiding the snow-packed mountains to the north.  Matthew was riding to support British veterans (in tribute to his father-in-law who is a veteran) so we made an instant connection. Matthew is married with two sons.  His profession is metal works and he is a foreman.  We retired to the local bar (I drank coke) where we agreed to ride together. 

Leaving Matthew at the bar, I departed to enjoy dinner at a local Mexican Restaurant, eating traditional food this time (it was very good!).

Day 3: Riding With the Bristol Bicyclist!

Today we rode 64 miles to Larned, KS.

The Adventure Cycling Association had posted a detour to avoid a road that had rumble strips installed in the median. On the advice of last year’s bicycling partner, Jayden, we decided to avoid the detour since it entailed gravel roads. Since today is a Sunday, we enjoyed a virtually traffic-free ride, staying on the white line.  Passing motorists were most kind in passing us and we acknowledged their courtesy with a wave of appreciation. On a normal traffic day, I do think that conditions for a bicyclist are more dangerous because the rumble strips take up most of the very narrow median.

Along the way, I noted the growing wind energy business in Kansas:

I also took this picture which reminded me of  a “little house” on the prairie:

As we approached Larned, we ran into another TransAmerica cyclist, Charlie, at a rest stop.  Charlie is originally from Peoria, IL, and lives in Oregon. Charlie started his journey riding trails from Oregon. He was riding a trail bike with fat tires.  He’s a fine carpenter and he has two sons.  Charlie was heading with some urgency to Newton, KS, to rendezvous with his son, Cole.  Charlie decided to join us at our camp in Larned.

After making camp, I enjoyed back-to-back camp lunch and dinner.  Lunch consisted of Ramen soup.  Dinner consisted of beef stew.

As Matthew, Charlie, and I were doing what touring cyclists need to do before sunset, we were approached by a man, David, who drove into the park with a camper. David, who appeared to be quite intelligent, was a bit too curious for comfort. His camper appeared to be minimally serviceable.  David initially said that he had lost his wallet. Then he said that it was his birthday. We made small talk with him but were somewhat guarded with our interaction. David, a self-admitted black sheep of his family, probably just wanted some human contact and we freely shared that with him.

Day 4: OK, Now It’s Getting Hot!

Today we rode 57 miles to Nickerson, KS. It was a windy day. It was a hot day.  And it was a long day!

While the forecast temperature was only supposed to be in the 80’s, I noted over 100 degrees on my bike computer, which registers the heat from the pavement. The locals all said that this heat was unusual for this time of year.

Today wasn’t a picture taking kind of day, but I couldn’t help but capture these very curious cows with white heads:

During the journey as our water was becoming hot and depleted, Matthew and I began knocking on doors of houses along the road to ask for water. 

At the first house, though it was apparent that there was a young man at home, no one came to the door. 

At the second house, a woman named Pam, offered us water and ice.  Pam was more than kind because she responded first to Matthew’s request, then to mine as I pulled up behind Matthew, and finally offered bottled water to Charlie as she and her family were pulling out of their driveway.

Once refreshed, we pushed our way into Nickerson where we set up camp.  That night, we enjoyed bar food at the only place in town. I consumed the recommended double cheeseburger and fries. Promptly at 9 pm, it was evident that the family business was closing so we were politely asked to leave.

Day 5: A Gathering of Adventure Cyclists

Today’s journey consisted of 48 miles to Newton, KS, with cross winds. My legs continued to be strong. Today’s route involved more climbing which didn’t present any special challenge to me.  Matthew is much more adept at climbing since he’s been on the road for five weeks as compared to my five days.

On the way out of Nickerson, we stopped at a diner where I enjoyed fruit and coffee. 

Today’s observation included numerous dead snakes on the road and one very large brown owl sitting on a fence along a tree line.

Our roads had no real shoulders but Kansas driver’s continued to be most considerate. I had to be careful with the impact of pressure waves from trucks going opposite direction.  Those trucks going my way offered a helpful vacuum effect. 

As we passed through the town of Buhler, KS, I noted a red truck with an older gentleman stop across the road and look at us.  He ended up turning around and stopping us in the high school parking lot.  His name is Jim and he used to be a touring cyclist.  It was apparent that seeing us brought back some great memories for him.  He didn’t want to let us go. So we decided to stop in town at Mama Lou’s Cafe where we enjoyed coffee and home-made cinnamon rolls (heated with the recommended butter topping).

After returning to the road, I passed two very majestic horses that seemed excited to see me:

And, as we pulled into Newton, KS, I saw my first TransAmerica sign of this trip:

At the end of today’s trip, I was tired and beginning to feel the effects of multiple days on the road.  But I was confident that I could stay on the road for another couple of days before taking a break.

Charlie reunited with his son, Cole, who he hadn’t seen since last June.  We all enjoyed dinner at Gurty’s Restaurant, where I consumed a salad, Italian hoagie, and fries.  And, upon return to camp, we enjoyed a night of camaraderie and laughter.  Cole entertained us with his rapping.   

Day 6: Camping Under An Unstable Air Mass

Today was the longest ride to date, 75 miles.  Winds were mostly favorable.

My legs were strong through 50 miles and strong enough afterwards. I am actually amazed at the strength and stamina that is evident.  But it was a long day.

After arriving in Eureka, we set up camp at the local park.  It had a swimming pool that was operating but not yet open (it was tempting to climb the fence!).

Matthew and I ventured into town.  We stopped into the local VFW bar and had a nice chat with bartender Phyllis and other patrons, most of whom were veterans. They recommended that we eat at Bennie’s restaurant, where I enjoyed (once again) a salad, burger, and fries. 

Afterwards, I stopped into the convenience store to find out what time they open.  There I was greeted by a retired Navy Chief named Paul.  He noticed my Coast Guard hat and started the conversation with the typical Navy challenge to a Coastie, something about shallow water sailers.  He served for 20 years and was a Master Diver. He said that I was the first Admiral that he ever met. 

After we returned to camp, a retired Navy Senior Chief named David came by to offer us his place to stay since rain was forecasted.  He had heard about me Chief Paul.  We thanked him  for his kindness but said that we planned to stay since our tents were already up.  Our severe weather plan was to duck into the concrete block shower buildings. 

At 1:38 am that night, I awoke to constant lightning flashes.  I emerged from the tent to observe lightning 360 degrees around me.  But I heard no thunder.  I thought that my NOAA radio would sound an alert for severe weather but it didn’t.  Fifteen minutes later, a lightening bolt struck the pool and it started raining hard.  Since there was no real wind associated with the storm, Matthew and I decided to ride it out in our dry tents.  I went back to sleep.

I am hours away from flying to Kansas to resume my journey.  During the last 10 months, I have:

• Recovered fully from shoulder surgery
• Lived as a snowbird in Northern Florida, accumulating training miles on my touring bicycle by riding along the beach against sustained winter winds
• Returned to Northern Virginia to polish off my training rides with some hills and serious slopes while carrying full weight

Because of muscle memory, training wasn’t as hard the second time around. In fact, I feel stronger and more capable as compared to last year.

I shipped my touring bicycle to Kansas using BikeFlights, a marvelously cost-effective method of getting a bike to where it needs to be by the date you desire.

I monitored the weather in Kansas and decided to purchase my plane ticket six weeks beforehand. Considering the recent days of tornados in the area, my timing actually appears to be ideal as the weather will be calmer when I get there.

Upon arrival to Kansas, I’ll assemble the bicycle and ride to the local Target and Walmart to stock up on supplies that couldn’t fly with me (such as camping fuel).  After a night’s rest, I’ll bike 35 miles to the north to catch up with the spot where I left off.

I have about 2000 miles ahead of me through Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Kentucky, and Virginia.  I plan to take a slow and steady approach and have allotted plenty of time for the mission. 

The only serious trepidation I have is about the severe slopes in the Ozark and Appalachian Mountains. I take some solace in the thought that some of the most challenging climbs in the Rockies involved several thousand of feet of elevation gain spread over 20 miles. This often involved climbing for most of the day in a state of prolonged physical and mental anguish. 

The anguish might be more pronounced since slopes in the Ozarks and Appalachians can be twice what is typical in the Rockies, but I don’t expect the anguish to be as prolonged. For instance, the most severe climb on this half of the journey involves 2000 feet of elevation gain spread over 3.5 miles. And this most daunting challenge is located towards the end of the journey so my legs and my mental state should be prepared by then. This element of the challenge is one of the reasons I’m pursuing this quest. I don’t like biking up mountains, especially on a loaded touring bike, but I know that it is good for me.  So I’ve embraced the goal to “Conquer Mount Vesuvius.”

I plan to update the blog with new entries and pictures on about a weekly basis.  Thanks for tracking my progress.  I appreciate your encouraging online comments as well.

For those of you who are newcomers to this blog, I recommend that you read the older posts from the bottom up to get the context for what I am doing and why, and to get a sense of my earlier adventures. I appreciate your interest as well.

During a recent trip to Florida, I had the opportunity to bicycle along the Jacksonville Beaches.  While not my intent, I ended up logging over 25 miles during one session.  Even with a stiff ocean breeze, the ride felt really good. 

While I expected to experience a bit of trepidation with this first extended road outing since my accident, I had none. I guess that my “No Fear” instincts remain intact after my TransAmerica mishap. In my world, that’s all good, even if it’s a bit crazy!

My rule has always been that if you can bike 20 miles, then you can bike 100. Physically, this is a good baseline as I prepare to return to the TransAmerica Trail in the late spring.

Now that the leaves are falling in Virginia, I’ll stick with the bicycle trainer until I return to Florida in the winter. I look forward to logging many more miles along the beach.

I met with my Orthopedic Surgeon on September 19th, 8 weeks after surgery (and 10 weeks after my accident).

After reviewing my latest X-rays, Dr. Nesti at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center gave me the good news that I longed for: my clavicle had healed well enough to allow me to resume normal activity, including weight lifting and on-the-road bicycling. The added bonus was that I would not require any physical therapy whatsoever. My left-side only weightlifting and indoor bicycle training regimen likely contributed to this result.

I deeply appreciate Dr. Nesti and his team for putting me back together in such an amazing way!

The doc advised me to take it easy so as not to over-stress the bone (it takes 1-2 years to completely heal). At some point, we’ll decide whether the hardware should be removed.  Thus far, my vote is to keep it in place since it presents no discomfort whatsoever.

For those visual learners out there, here are the before and after X-ray images:

Before: Ouch! No wonder it hurt so much!

After: How do you spell relief? A plate and several screws!

During my downtime, I procured everything required to support my return to the TransAmerica Trail (e.g. new tires).  I also taught myself how to true a bicycle wheel (yes, it is more art than science).

I plan to return to Kansas late next spring to pick up where I left off.  I’m already starting to ramp up my training.

Because the slopes on the roads in the Ozark and Appalachian Mountains tend to be more severe than the Rockies (albeit the distances up are shorter), I am planning some mountain training in the spring as well. This includes a trip out to what cyclists affectionately call “Mt. Vesuvius” near the Wintergreen Resort in Virginia. With slopes in excess of 13 percent, this is ranked by some as the toughest climb in Virginia.  No one said this would be easy!  And I look forward to this new challenge!

I still owe my fellow bicycle purists a review of my equipment.  As I continue to live “The Joy of Not Working,” it’s something that I’ll get to soon.  Thanks for your patience, and for your continued interest and support.

After returning home, and with strong encouragement from my wife, I followed up with the medical professionals at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda to check out my injury. I was quickly referred to the team at Orthopedic Surgery. After more X-rays, it was recommended that I get the broken clavicle surgically repaired. The clavicle was not healing properly on its own (let’s just say that the break was misaligned along two directions). I readily embraced the recommendation. 

The surgery occurred on July 24th, the day after my birthday.  The formal name for the surgical procedure is clavicle reduction; more simply, the team realigned and reattached the bone using a plate and some screws.

I went home that afternoon, feeling no pain thanks to an anesthetic procedure called a nerve block. In fact, I had no feeling in my left shoulder and arm for several hours after the procedure. 

My wife took this picture of me right after we arrived back home.  My right arm is being supported by my leg because I couldn’t lift it; by this time, I only had partial feeling in my right index finger and thumb (I was trying to show a “thumbs up”). The picture includes a most appropriate birthday gift from my oldest sister and her husband, my brother-in-law. “The Journey is the Destination” is really a great caption for my TransAmerica experiences to date!

I look somewhat gaunt in the photo but was actually feeling pretty good at the time, likely due to the decent sleep I “enjoyed” during the surgery, and the fact that I was pain free for the first time since the accident.  My clothes are a bit loose fitting because, all told, I had lost about 35 pounds between training and the TransAmerica touring experience.  It’s been at least a couple of decades since I was this light but the new weight is probably closer to what I should have weighed all along.

I left the hospital with a heavy duty sling, pain pills, and other concoctions. I only needed a couple of the pain pills to get through the first night at home. After five days, my shoulder feels terrific. I have started to do some of the minimal exercises recommended post-procedure.  I was also provided with a nifty device that induces electrical flux (sorry, I am an engineer) within the repaired bone to speed growth.

While it’s only been five days since the surgery, I am optimistic about  my chances of resuming my biking adventures in the Fall. I recognize that my best chance to get back on the bike is to take it slow and steady during the recovery period; that’s not my nature but, under my wife’s watchful eye, I will endeavor to comply. I freely admit to scanning the Web for bicycle centuries (100 mile rides) in the local area in the Fall timeframe; two of them are already on my calendar marked tentative. And, with medical pre-approval, I’ve already returned to exercising my legs on my bicycle trainer.

Thanks to everyone for your kind and uplifting expressions of support and concern, and for the countless birthday greetings, especially on Facebook.  You continue to touch my heart!  

My transition from a period of hyper-focused and physically challenging TransAm bicycle touring to a period of low activity medical recuperation at home has been a smooth one for me. That’s because it’s so good to be home! I continue to feel blessed and I am in really good spirits. And, despite the clipped wing, I continue to physically feel amazingly well.

I am fully occupied with activities ranging from communicating with friends still on the trail (including providing long distance weather updates)… to sending thank you notes to my TransAm supporters… to reaching out to family and friends.  My wife and I are also contemplating those things that will be the focus our time, talent, and treasure in the coming months. As for me, I truly hope that bicycling will continue to be part of that focus.

My next series of updates (intended more for the cycling audience or for those who want to become touring cyclists) will talk about my assessment of the equipment that I used during the journey, starting with my bike. My touring bicycle just arrived back home from Scott City, KS, via FEDEX (special thanks again to Pastor Kyle and his team at First Baptist Church). I am already getting it ready for my next phase of touring. Fortunately, there’s not a lot to be done in that regard.

Day 41: A Minor Mishap With Major Consequences: Mission Terminated!

After enjoying a restful night in Tribune, I awoke today ready to bike the 47 miles to Scott City, KS.  There was more motor traffic, including large trucks, along the route so I hugged the median.

At about mile 30, just outside Marienthal, KS, I lost control of the bike when I went off the edge of the median, which had about a 2 inch drop into the adjacent dirt and grass (which is sloped down).  The median for this portion of SR 96 is as narrow as 6 inches wide.  I tried in vain to self-correct and ended up tumbling onto the pavement while traveling at about 15 mph.

In anticipation of the crash, I instinctively rolled onto my right side. I hit the pavement with my right hand, shoulder, hip, and leg.  My helmet protected my head and it sustained very minor scrapes on the right side.

Both the bike and I ended up parallel to the road within the confines of the median and the adjacent grass, with me in front of the bike. One of the front panniers had slid onto the road surface. I had successfully avoided my fear of becoming sprawled out on the highway after a crash!

Right after the crash, I immediately sprang to my feet and did what many cyclists do after a fall:  I checked out the bike first! The two front panniers had been ejected from the bike but sustained no damage.  The bike sustained no damage; I only noted that the two brake levers had rotated inward (and I easily slid them back into position).

By this time, a passing motorist, a young farmer named Cody, stopped to render assistance.  He had observed my crash from the opposite direction. He helped me lift the bike and rotate the tires to ensure that they were not warped.  He also helped me retrieve and reattach the panniers.

Cody was more vigilant about my status than I was.  He noted that I was bleeding from the tip of my pinky finger on my right hand.  He assisted me in performing a head to toe check, where I noted very minor road rash on my right leg, hip, and upper arm.  At this time, I realized that my right shoulder was hurting pretty badly and I surmised that I had re-injured an old rotator cuff tear.

During our initial assessment, I kept hearing an alarm going off.  It dawned on me that it was my Garmin 820 bike computer, which has an accelerometer that triggers an alarm in the event of a crash. I hit the cancel button with 10 seconds to spare.  My wife ended up getting a satellite-generated text indicating that an incident had happened but that I was ok.

Cody offered to take me to where I needed to be.  He said that he was enroute to purchase food for his new calf but was ready to flex his plans to support me. Aside from my shoulder, I felt fine and the bike was fine.  This was the slowest crash I’ve had in my biking experience and I was ready to shake it off and proceed.  

I thanked Cody for his kind assistance and got back on the road.

I completed the 17 remaining miles to Scott City without concern.  I did clip the edge of the narrow median again but this time chose to ride it out into the adjacent grass (I should have done that the first time!).  My right armed stiffened a bit but, having previously raced with a torn rotator cuff, I could deal with it.

When I arrived at Scott City, I went to the Athletic Club, which puts cyclists up in their gymnasium for the night.  I was greeted by Deb.  It’s a very nice facility with a pool, hot tub, exercise equipment, showers, and WiFi. I secured my gear, performed a deeper inspection on the bike (which was amazingly fine), and got cleaned up.  After performing another head to toe check, I only needed a bandage on my pinky finger.

I enjoyed lunch at Tates Restaurant. When I returned to the Athletic Club, Jayden and a group of Westbound TransAmr’s were there. When I described my mishap, one of the new cyclists, named Ben (we both grew up in the same area), noticed a lump on my right shoulder.  He said that I should get it checked out because it looked like a broken clavicle. He showed me the permanent lump on his shoulder from a past injury he had sustained.

At Ben’s suggestion, I did some Internet research and concluded that he was probably right.  Based on my symptoms, I also concluded that I had probably retorn my rotator cuff as well.  I decided to go to the emergency room, but wait until after dinner when the heat of the day had subsided (it was over 100 degrees outside). And it was about 1-1/2 miles to the Scott County Hospital and my only option was to walk (no Uber or taxis; and biking was now out of the question).

Jayden and I went to dinner at Tates Restaurant and walked to the hospital.  The care and compassion shown by the hospital team was first-rate!  The examination and X-ray confirmed Ben’s original diagnosis.  I had fractured (broken) my clavicle.  

I immediately knew that this was a mission terminating diagnosis. Elite cyclists sometimes proceed with a broken clavicle, the most common injury in cycling.  I am not an elite cyclist!  Proceeding with the adventure would exacerbate the injury and complicate the healing process and, likely, threaten my overall health.  And the risk of another fall was too great!

I thought about the TransAm racer from Canada who inspired me with his graciousness in accepting the fate of his achilles injury. I immediately accepted my fate for what it was.  

I called my wife the next morning and said that I was coming home.  I know that she was relieved that I wasn’t more seriously injured. I was too!

As Jayden departed the next morning to continue his adventure, I gave him the American flag off my bike as a sign of our new friendship. I hope to be in Yorktown to greet him as he concludes his challenge to raise awareness about food addition.

Thanks to the superb assistance of Pastor Kyle Evans and his support team at First Baptist Church in Scott City, KS, I was able to fly home the next day from Garden City, KS.  

I met Pastor Kyle when he and his son drove to the hospital to transport me and Jayden back to the Athletic Club. The next afternoon, I was escorted to the airport by Pastor Kyle’s 88-year old father, Mr. George, who is an Army veteran of the Korean War and an amazing and witty farmer.  Pastor Kyle and his team also agreed to pack and ship my bike to me using ShipBikes.com. I am indebted to their selfless support.

I have six to eight weeks of recovery, likely followed by physical therapy.  Treatment consists of an arm sling to mobilize the shoulder, ice packs, and Motrin. I am learning to do things with my left hand, which is a challenge. 

I appreciate everyone’s interest and concern.  In the coming weeks, I will post a summary of this year’s adventure and a review of some of the equipment I used.

As I go through recovery, I will consider options to resume my TransAm adventure next year from Scott City. I also desire to pursue a future trip from Boston to Key West. Please let me know if you want to join in these adventures!

I enjoyed this adventure immensely but it’s good to be home! And I continue to Live the Dream!

Day 36: A Great Day (And Night) To Ride

This morning, I saw my loving wife off as she embarked the shuttle heading to Denver International Airport.  I then jumped back on the rig after an 8-day break.  Out of an abundance of caution, I decided to take about a 15-mile training ride before attacking the largest summit of the TransAmerica Trail.  I enjoyed a picturesque ride down to Frisco, CO, and back to Breckenridge.  

After reacquiring my “biking legs,” I started to climb Hoosier Pass.  As I climbed the pass, I noticed a very large mushroom-like plume of smoke in the far distance behind me.  This was the apparent earlier phase of what became a very large wildfire on Peak 2 near Breckenridge. I was fortunate to have gotten ahead of it as I understand that travelers into and out of the area were seriously impacted by the blaze and resulting smoke.

Here’s a picture of me at the highest point on the TransAmerica Trail (photo courtesy of a Westbound TransAm’r I met at the pass):

At some point during the journey, my occasional biking colleague and new friend, Jayden from Pennsylvania, sent me a text indicating which town I could catch up to him. I had already bicycled about 50 miles and the town was another 50 miles away. I was feeling good but knew that catching up with Jayden might be a stretch.  

After exploring camping opportunities between my location and Jayden’s (they were essentially nonexistent), I decided that biking another 50 miles was my best option. The vehicular traffic on the road was minimal.  And it was a moonlight night.  I energized my lights.  

I use a brightly flashing rear red light and very bright front white LED light which I mounted on my GoPro gooseneck so it was raised above my handlebar bag.  In addition, my panniers (biking bags) have impressively reflective patches (three in the front and two in the back).  I had confidence that the few motor vehicles on the road could clearly see me: oncoming vehicles dimmed their high beams at least a quarter of a mile in front of me; and I heard the rumble of the tires of vehicles passing me as they hit the center lane rumble strips well before the vehicle actually passed me.  My more immediate concern was to ensure that I could see any deer on the road (and they could see me).

I arrived safely at the Echo Canyon campground near Canyon City, CO, after completing 106 miles and about 12 hours on the bike. I had climbed two summits that day. And biking after hours gave the the opportunity to observe countless deer crossing the road.

While my first day back on the road was unusually strenuous, it validated the wisdom of taking a break.  I emerged stronger and more capable.

Today serves as a strong base for the rest of my journey. I know that I have a significant reserve that I can tap into when necessary.  I still don’t like biking at night but know that I have the right gear to do it safely when necessary.

Day 37: The Heat is On!

Although I didn’t arrive at the campground until after 10 pm the previous night, I awoke early and set out on the road to Pueblo, CO.  It was forecast to be very hot, over 100 degrees. The first 10 miles of the journey were strong and comfortable for me.

By the time I arrived adjacent the federal correctional facility in Florence, CO, my bike computer showed an on-the-road temperature of 106 degrees.  Biking felt nothing short of oppressive over the next stretch of 11 miles; there were no services and no shade. And there was a pretty stiff headwind, but not the cooling kind.

At times during this portion of the ride, I felt like I was riding on two flat tires.  I looked down at the pavement and the tires were fine!  I was consuming water very rapidly.  The water became increasingly hot and less satisfying to a parched cyclist.  Although I had plenty of water, I made it a priority to find a cool place with cool water as soon as possible.

When I completed the 11-mile stretch, which felt like it took forever, I pulled into the town of Wetmore (gotta love the name’s play on water).  I was dismayed when I found that the town’s only restaurant was permanently closed; there were no stores.

After getting to the end of the small town, I doubled back along the main road to conduct a deeper probe. There was no sign of human activity.  Then I noticed a sign for a library so decided to give it a try, thinking that a library must at least have air conditioning.  At the bottom of a dirt road, I discovered a brand new community center with the library as part of it. It was indeed open. And it had fabulous air conditioning and the coldest water fountains imaginable.

I spent two hours there consuming all the cool water I could and waiting out the heat.  The caretaker told me that the town intends to encourage bicyclists to camp out at the park across from the library.  I made a mental note to notify the Adventure Cycling Association about this newly discovered water stop and camping opportunity.

As I rested at the library, the heat of the day fueled cloud cover in the form of storm clouds.  When my bike computer showed a temperature drop of 25 degrees (relative to 106 degrees),  I filled up my water bottles with cold water and, much to my surprise, attacked the remaining 25 miles to Pueblo in superb form.

This incident illustrates the restorative power of a good water break. And the need to avoid the heat of the day whenever possible.  I would incorporate both these lessons into my routine.

As I entered Pueblo, I caught up with Jayden (who didn’t have the benefit of a two-hour break). He was completely exhausted so we decided to rent rooms in the Bramble Tree Hotel. Unfortunately, the hotel only had second floor rooms available and no elevator. It was quite a chore to carry our bikes and gear up a stairwell.

We enjoyed a delicious meal at a local Japanese Restaurant, MoMo’s. I enjoyed some warm sake with the meal.

Day 38: Setting an Alarm to Beat the Heat

During last night’s dinner, Jayden and I decided that we needed to do the unthinkable–to set an alarm and get on the road with the rising sun.  After the previous day’s experience, I was all in. Our goal today was to ride 50 miles to Ordway, CO.

With an early start and cooler temperatures, I completed the ride in record time.  After Pueblo, CO, there weren’t any significant climbs as I headed towards Kansas.

Today was the first day where I completed the entire day’s ride within three shifts on my middle chain ring.  I was able to power up the upslopes without much additional effort.  I found myself enjoying lunch in Ordway by noon. I enjoyed the lunch so much that I went back to the same establishment, Bits and Spurs Cafe, for dinner (ok, it also happened to be the only one of two open restaurants in town).

The City of Ordway is very bike friendly.  At City Hall, we were given free camping permits for the Spray Park. This park is well known for the spray feature in the water park area where kids can run through a giant sprinkler/fountain in the center of the park.  The city even gave us nice water bottles and microfiber towels.

After we had set up our tents, we were joined by an East to West TranAm’r, a very tall gentleman named Roberts from the Netherlands. Jayden and I were amused when Roberts, in quintessential European fashion, decided to frolic in the spray jets in his biking shorts.  My sense was that the local kids and attending moms were less amused.

As evening approached, a local gentleman named Pablo stopped by to tell me that the sprinkler system for the park lawns would come on at 7 pm and go through its routine until 7 am.  I asked him if it was possible to shut the system down for bicycle campers and he said no.  His orders were to green up the parks.  But he was kind enough to describe the time and zone sequencing of the system.

Ever the engineer, I waited for the first zone to come on at 7 pm and discovered that there was a relatively large “dead zone” where one of the sprinkler heads didn’t operate.  After waking Roberts up, we all relocated our tents to that zone and enjoyed a relatively sprinkle-free night, save a few evening thunder showers energized by the heat.

Day 39: Enjoying the Relative Flatness of Eastern Colorado

Following a get-up-using-an-alarm routine (which I disliked intensely since I had become accustomed to being woke up by the light of the day and chirping birds), I awoke early and was on the road by 7 am.  I stopped by a truck stop for a cup of coffee and quickly sped through the 61 miles to Eads.

Even though Eastern Colorado is relatively flat, I encountered gradual up and downslopes, some more significant than others.

I found that I enjoyed the relative flatness much more than mountain climbing.  But I needed a new challenge.  So, today, I endeavored to complete the ride using only two gears, essentially requiring me to power through the upslopes and work harder.  I enjoyed this “game” and comfortably stayed within the aerobic zone of my heart rate monitor.  My heart rate was running appreciably lower than what I encountered in the mountains.

I made it to Eads in record time and was having lunch at JJ’s Restaurant by 11:30 am.  After checking out the city park, which is located on the main highway and has little shade, I decided to rent a room at the Traveler’s Lodge.

I enjoyed dinner at JJ’s as well, this time in the company of Jayden and three new East-bound TransAmr’s, Gloria, Eric, and Michael.

Eads, CO, marks the halfway point for the TransAmerica Trail.  I commemorated this achievement in the following picture (courtesy of Jayden):

Day 40: Almost Effortless on the Flats as I Enter Kansas

I missed my alarm today but was still was on the road by 7 am.  Today’s goal is to proceed to the town of Tribune, KS.  The temperature was 65 degrees when I started.  I watched the temperature rise ten degrees per hour as I progressed along the 56 mile route.

Today, I observed two live snakes attempting the cross the road.  The first, presumably non-poisonous, was about 4 feet long, and it hardly acknowledged me as I sped past.  The second, presumably poisonous, was about 3 feet long. It alerted at my presence and assumed a very aggressive posture as I zoomed by.  I decided that it was best for me not to stop to try to take a picture.

I also experienced my first assault from biting flies, especially at the Kansas welcome sign.  I was warned about this threat by West bound TransAmr’s. Somehow, these flies have figured out how to bit you even as you are riding the bike.  And, with the welts that are left by their bites, I’m still trying to figure out if I hate them more than mosquitos.

Here’s me entering Kansas (selfie taking quickly to avoid those pesky biting flies!):

At the Kansas welcome sign, an older gentleman in a pick up truck stopped by just to say hello. He said that he was born and raised in the area, and works in the oil and gas distribution field. He asked me how I was doing and even offered some water. He said that he enjoyed engaging cycling tourists at both the Colorado and Kansas welcome signs.

Today’s ride was in my best ever category.  My legs were strong.  My stamina was consistent.  And, continuing the “game” from the previous day, I only used a single gear to complete the route.

I had been warned about the large agricultural equipment encountered by other TranAm’rs in Kansas.  Today was my first experience.  I was pedaling along nicely when I noticed two large pieces of equipment taking up both lanes, including the medians.  I stopped in time to take this photo, and rode over into the grass to let these behemoth combine harvesters pass.  I waved at the operators as an expression of my appreciation for what agriculture does for America and the world:

Many Westbound TransAm’rs said that Kansas was their least favorite state.  As for me, I was fascinated by the long, straight and relatively flat stretches of road (I called it rolling flatness). It was often difficult to discern the difference between the end of the road and the sky because of the heat waves beating off the pavement. 

I studied the intermodal intersections between highway and rail.  I was mesmerized by the hugeness and diversity of the various pieces of agricultural equipment I encountered. Driving by the John Deere harvester dealership was a particular treat.  

In each small town, I was greeted by a large silo or silo complex. Even on a Sunday, the progress of American agriculture was evident.

While it was an easy biking day for me, I remained ever vigilant for sources of cool water.  I stopped at a convenience store in one particular town and found it closed on Sunday.  I snapped this picture as I thought to myself, “that’s not very convenient for me.”  A young trucker had stopped at the gas pump at the same location and we shared a moment of exasperation as I told him that the store was closed.

As I completed my last several miles into Tribune, I fixated a bit on the water tanks on the horizon.  What I would have given for a cool drink of water! Ironically, I ended up camping within a stone’s throw of the town’s main water tank. I snapped this photo to capture the inspiration that the water tank gave to me on my journey.

When I arrived in Tribune, I went to the gas station and found out that it was the only store and restaurant open on Sunday.  I enjoyed a large, very cold cold Gatorade.  I was guided by the store clerk to where I needed to check in to camp at the city park.  

When I went outside to my bike, I found that I was losing air pressure in my rear tire.  During a recent bike inspection, I discovered a small cut in my rear tire, presumably caused by road debris.  It wasn’t large enough to change the tire but I was monitoring it closely.  The tire was slowly losing pressure but I had just enough to get to the park.

I proceeded to the Sheriff’s Office and on to the park, which is fabulous (it had cool (and especially delicious) water, power, a gazebo for shade, adjacent restroom and shower facilities at the county pool, etc.).

My first order of business was to fix the slow leak in the bicycle tire.  The cut in the tire was not the source; it was a thin strand of wire that had penetrated the tread of the tire and punctured the inner tube.  I patched the tube and installed a patch of thick rubber (called a boot) along the portion of the tire with the cut in it. This was my first true flat in over 3,500 miles of operation of my touring bicycle.

The park in Tribune is adjacent the Veteran’s Memorial. I beamed with pride when I observed the U.S. Coast Guard prominently displayed in the roster of military services.  

There was one Coast Guard veteran commemorated in the inscribed bricks on the memorial walkway.  

As I was setting up camp, a woman in a golf cart named Sonja pulled up.  She told me that if there was a threat of rain, we would be notified by the Sheriff’s Office and relocated to the fire house.  My goodness, does it get any better than this? It’s a true honor and privilege to be treated with such courtesy by people as good as the folks I’ve met along this trek!  And in a town with a really cool name like Tribune!

Tonite’s sky contained a full moon (note my tent and bike under the gazebo):