Author: russloomis

Last night was in the 60’s and the light breeze kept the tent dry so I enjoyed a cup of Elbow Room coffee with a danish before packing. I was able to put away a dry tent and head off to ride more hills.

Mileage wise the day will be short, 43 miles, but the terrain would give me a long day’s ride and working hard for all of these miles. For the next few days I will be in the heart of the Ozarks where the hills are long and steep.

I will meet up with Nancy at the Circle B Campground just beyond Eminence, MO. This section offers nil for places to eat and so breakfast was my only food so when I got into town I detoured into town for a two pint treat of ice cream and a Dr.Pepper. The temperature reached 95° while climbing and there was no shade to escape the burning sun. I was only .5 miles from the campground and feeling tired so rather than press on I treated myself and arrived with a full belly, quenched, and with a much lower core temperature. I still had enough room for the dinner, burritos, that Nancy was preparing for tonight’s meal.

Yesterday it rained hard and steadily without end and at night the lightening shined a spotlight into my bedroom window. I stayed inside mostly with the exception of going across the street and through a parking lot for a bite to eat. This morning as I woke and looked outside it still was raining steadily. I made coffee and ate breakfast while planning the day. I would like to head west again and connect with Nancy tomorrow, I pack up and ride out of town. I make one stop to stuff some food in my bag for lunch and dinner tonight.

The roads busy with traffic soon turn back into nice quiet back rambling roads leading me through the Ozarks, bringing me up and down more than forward. The countryside now is filled with dairy farms and small towns. This area has armadillos, many of which do not make the trip to the other side of the road. Talking with an older local woman, who proudly announced that she was born and raised right here, that there were never armadillos in the area until about five years ago. Global warming has tamed the winters and so these critters have been migrating up from Texas.

This morning as I began riding I was hoping that the weather would clear while going west, the storm is moving east and that I would dry and be able to setup camp in the warm afternoon sun. Maybe not, it began misting again as I neared the town line. But, as I rolled into town, the sun lit up the courthouse lawn where I’ll spend the night. I set up and cooked dinner watching the sun set and began to relax. As I am write this the drizzle is back tapping on the tent.

Today I left my humble tiny house to cross the Mississippi River into Missouri and tackle the Ozarks. Rain is heading this way and arriving early this evening so I will stay at Al’s Place, a cycle hostel on the second floor of an old historic jail. Farmington is a town that contrasts the other town I’ve ridden through on this tour. Within a few blocks from this hostel there are cafes, boutiques, and small shops. I chose Redemption Pizza and hit the bullseye.

Crossing the Mississippi I began riding on highways filled with large fully loaded trucks hauling coal over the open land that spreads for miles to the distant hills.

Soon I turned off onto smaller less busy roads that curve upwards following the shape of the hillside. I began the journey into the Ozarks.

Today I was in no hurry to get on the road. The distance to Chester, IL. is only 38 miles so a short day of riding. The strong cool headwind I pushed into slowed my pace and made the ride seem a lot longer but I still ended at the Bike Shack hostel hosted by the F.O.E. in Chester with a few hours remaining before dinner so I showered and put up a line to air dry my cycling clothes.

Most of the day was winding along roads that seemed to reach the sky before falling, twisting and turning to the base of the next hill only to climb into the wind back up to the clouds.

The story of Popeye and Chester, IL https://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/2657

Now I’m relaxing with a full belly looking at the oatmeal raisin cookies I plan to have after I finish this blog entry. Tomorrow morning I cross the Mississippi River and start climbing into the Ozarks to the hostel in Farmington, Missouri.

I left Lake Glendale, Nancy, Scooby, and Moe without a rest day. Today was a good day to ride with enough time to go the 63 miles to Murphysboro before rain. My map didn’t show any places along the route for food but I knew that I could get there with the snacks I packed if I couldn’t find some real food.

On my way to Goreville I connected with a cyclist touring the same route. Rand was riding a trike and his wife Jan was crewing and following him with his gear. We stopped for photos and shared our stories before Jan pulled in behind us to join our conversation. I was headed to Murphysville and they were going to Carbondale. Luck was on my side, I found a Subway a block off route before leaving town.

The roads today were rolling but not the short ups and downs of yesterday. Today the rolls were long but not as steep and without the headwind I could pedal with less effort and more speed. I arrived in Murphysboro with the rain beginning as drops, just enough to not tempt me to continue riding to the Mississippi River. Without the urge to go on I left the route to head to a motel where I will sleep and stay dry until morning. Tomorrow is another day and it will be the day I cross the Mississippi River into Missouri.

The rain was gone and the sun lite the morning as I packed my gear. My stomach growled while I finished and then headed to the park restaurant just up the hill. Buttermilk pancakes with bacon, orange juice and coffee was my choice. No regrets as I finished the stack of three.

The Cave-in-Rock, a cave with a rich history of river pirates that robbed and killed for the cargo of ships traveling the river. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cave-In-Rock,_Illinois

Leaving town and back on county roads I headed west to Lake Glendale in the Shawnee National Forest to meet up with Nancy about forty mile away. I am now just across the Ohio River in Illinois with Kentucky on the east side but here the landscape is much different and so are the roads. Here the roads have a shoulder and the hills are much longer with steeper grades. It’s mostly farmland with large equipment working the fields and fewer places for food and water.

It was on one of these long climb that I met Julie who was now traveling east on TransAmerican bike route. She started her tour in California riding Route 66 to Missouri before connecting with this route to Yorktown, VA. We had a pleasant visit and swapped information and stories. When riding alone for days it is a joy to meet up with another person that relates with my adventure.

I arrived at the campground late afternoon tired and hungry, that breakfast was my only meal today. In camp I hung up my sleeping bag and rain gear to dry, I was still wet from rain when I crawled into bed last night. After a shower we enjoyed a real home cooked meal, pork stir fry with rice compliments of Nancy, and then walked one of the trails with the dogs.

I woke up early to start riding before 9:00, it would be a long day of over 75 miles to reach the cycle hostel in Sebree, KY. It was probably a week ago that I crossed paths with Bill Poindexter, a fellow cyclist touring east, you can follow him on his blog wholeearthguide.blogspot.com. He had recently stayed at this hostel and suggested that I also stay there. It was a distance within my reach and the possibility of rain overnight was the carrot.

The day was cool and comfortable for riding and I was setting a pace that would get me there between 6 and 7. Around 1:00 I rode into a small town with a little country store with six men sitting on the front porch. This indicated that the place was open so I stopped and went inside to explore. Just as many women were sitting inside at the lunch tables. The choices of the day were fried catfish dinner which included potato salad, baked beans, coleslaw, and a large portion of fish or the same but with frog legs. I chose the fish and to follow, a slice of fresh baked strawberry pie. Delicious! I was just about to devour the pie when one of the women walked up and said “just in case you never have had frog legs, I want you to try these” and plopped a pair of legs on my plate. Well, I’m here to see the country and experience the culture. I tried a bite and ended up eating all that I was given. Seventy years old and my first taste of frog legs, very tasty.

While moving down the road with a full belly I see a cyclist heading towards me on a loaded touring bike, we both stop and tell stories of what and where to eat and sleep. Chad would be seeing where I have ridden and I would see where he has been.

Within the last five miles of my day’s journey, just outside of Sebree two loaded cyclists are heading east. During this visit I remember to take a photo and exchange contact information. Their names are lost somewhere deep inside my brain, so hopefully they will make contact.

Showered and resting in this nice hostel.

It rained last night so the roads were wet as I clipped in and pedaled out of Harrodsburg to continue west. Without many options to choose for a place to sleep on route I opted for the 77 mile trek to Abraham Lincoln Birthplace National Park in Larue County Kentucky. The route would bring me over many miles of ribbon candy back roads. I enjoy riding roller coaster hills because the short steep hills have a rhythm. Once at the top of a hill I drop into the dip and coast most of the way up the next where I can stand and pop to the top and repeat over and over.

I made it to the campground with enough daylight to set up camp, eat, clean up and get a good night’s sleep. Overnight the temp dropped to near frost and covered my tent with dew so I let my tent mostly dry while eating breakfast next door. I was planning to tour the birthplace of Lincoln before finishing the day at Axtel Campground in the town of McDaniel with Nancy at her site. Nancy was thinking of touring the birthplace so she drove over and we toured together.

Now back on the route, and Nancy heading back to the campground, I would join her at the end of the day. My route, US 76 TransAmerica bike route, was scenic and much like yesterday. I arrived in time to order a pizza delivery to the campground and enjoy my first beer of this tour before falling into a deep sleep. I am taking a rest day to check over my bike and gear and planning my next sleep stop in Sebree, KY. 77 miles away in a cycling hostel.

Oh Kentucky RV Park was filled with b i g and B I G G E R rolling home RVs. The Teapot looked like a matchstick toy by comparison and even so it was home for me for two nights and as Goldilocks proclaimed, this one is just right. This is an oasis where I will rest after putting the Appalachians behind and a comfortable place to plan the days ahead.

Today is the day I head farther west and enjoy a new Kentucky experience. Gone from the land of mullets and small towns sliding into extinction, gone are the days of dogs with snapping jaws. I am now in the land of rolling hills where the roads are dreamlike and the fields are full of bluegrass waving in the wind.

Today ended in Harrodsburg, KY in a motel room next to a Dairy Queen. The rain began wetting the ground while I walked out the door to devour dinner, my first meal since breakfast. I am excited to see what tomorrow will bring.

This morning I left the comforts of a quiet little campground in Buckhorn, KY to tackle some steep and long climbs on my 70 mile trek to Berea, KY.

These climbs started almost as soon as I left the campsite. It would turn out to be a hot day with temps near 90°. I traveled on small side roads, with very little traffic but the penalty was loose dogs to navigate around without getting bitten. It was on such a road, about midpoint into the ride that I came across another cyclist who was also touring. He, Bill Poindexter, was headed east on the same route. We stopped and exchanged contact information along with insight of what to expect along our routes and where to spend the nights along the route on the days to follow. This chance meeting filled the void of telling my story to someone who really understands this journey. Brothers in Arms, and the first cycling tourist I’ve seen since my beginning in Yorktown, VA.

From this point the rest of today’s trip was uneventful, just a slog to finish the long hard miles to Berea where I would meet up with Nancy for a catch-up day after a well deserved night sleep. I landed in camp around 7:00 PM, hung out my put-away-wet tent, and cleaned and lubed my chain while Nancy was out picking up dinner.