Goodbye 2015, Hello 2016!!
10 years ago
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Day 34 and 35: Quincy to Springfield IL to Champaign IL
Corn. Oceans of corn.
Unbelievable how much corn is grown in Southern Illinois. And I expect in Indiana, Ohio and many other places we'll be passing through. The production scale is huge ... Like the wheat in Kansas. It brings home the "breadbasket to the world" and makes that marketing phrase actually believable. Apparently even just 5 years ago you would see a lot more soybeans planted on this route, but ethinol has fueled a huge surge in corn that has all but pushed out other crops.
Yesterday riding the 107 miles between Quincy IL and Springfield we estimated that at least 85 miles of the first hundred were corn miles. Corn tunnels (what I started calling the small rural roads pressed on both sides by corn fields as far as the eye could see deep. Signs identifying the corn as a special genetic modification (like that would fly in Seattle) or as seed corn. Most getting tassels and the rest just knee high. A cool wet spring meant a late planting for most farmers here. Small white houses boxed in by huge oak trees sitting in the middle of huge cornfields. Corn on rolling hills and corn on pancake flat land that stretched for miles. No wonder corn syrup is in so many foods ... We raise enough corn to demand as many potential markets as possible.
Biking both yesterday and today was essentially 200+ miles venturing through corn with the occasional soybean field and pasture land and small town.
To amuse ourselves we invented CORNY jokes like: What do you call a group of cyclists taking pictures of corn? Cornography.
Another entertainment was the various insects that seem to like the hot humid summers around the cornfields. Every now and then you pass through a cloud of gnats and can feel them plastering themselves to your arms and face. You try to remember to wipe those off before grossing out normal people when you head into a cafe or gas station.
Or there are the beatles. Low and slow flying, about half an inch long, they occasionally bounce off your helmet or arm with a THWACK! Occasionally one flies into the vents of your helmet (or better a riding companion), and then it's amusing to watch them trying to get the helmet off and the beetle out while still pedaling 18mph. Nothing like a big bug crawling around in your hair to inspire drastic action. Better is when one flies into your jersey or sports bra ... That generally entails colorful language and groping around in your clothes trying to extract those prickly little buggers while pedaling.
Yep - that's what passes for entertainment biking through 200 miles of corn. Wonder what we'll come up with tomorrow?
But thankfully there were a few non-corn related happenings that broke up our trek east.
In the tiny town of Chapin about 60 miles east of Quincy, Bob and I pulled into to a convenience store for a little caffeine rehabilitation. Parked out front was a very homemade looking recumbent bike. ... Meet Leroy. He's a former navy guy who now is the welder in Chapin. He made this enormous recumbent bike himself, complete with a tie rod to steer, a kick stand, duel rear baskets and a huge hood ornament. The wheels were solid rubber. The handlebars were like those old bars on girls bikes with the banana seat. It must have weighed well over 60 lbs. After duly admiring his wheels, he offered to let me take it for a spin. I couldn't actually reach the pedals, but felt like sitting in a homemade recliner. Both LeRoy and his Bike were a kick.
Springfield, Illinois is all about Abe Lincoln. We got into Springfield in time for me to get a bike repair done (maybe more bad news on the frame around the water bottle connectors) and then to visit Lincoln's house when he was a lawyer and elected to the state legislator and before he won the Presidency. The Park Service had restored a 4 square block area and led tours of the neighborhood and of the Lincolns old house. They had acquired much of the Lincolns furniture that they had sold off prior to moving to DC. Lots of information on the family, their philosophy on raising children ("let them be free of parental tyranny") Mary Lincoln (a hottie from an aristocratic family who was also courted by Lincolns Political Rival Steven Douglas.).
Really interesting is they just discovered some letters that confirm that Lincoln's neighbor 4 doors down was a station master on the underground railroad. The Sheriff lived next door, too. Hard to believe that Lincoln and the Sheriff didn't know about and condone UR activity happening right under their nose ... Wonder what light this can shed on his choices as president. The whole park is really well done - worth a stop through.
Then I headed back to the hotel and cleaned up for a visit from my friend Bryan Dozer who recently moved to St. Louis with his wife. We rode together for many years with Team in Training in Seattle. It was delightful to see him and catch up ... Bryan you look fabulous and clearly this move was a really positive (even though I miss riding with you.)
Today was more corn.
Springfield to Champaign was 98 miles, but it felt pretty easy with a nice tail wind and everyone was pretty mellow and not in a hurry.
We had our first rest stop at a state park where the Lincolns had a cabin when they first moved to Illinois. Then after more corn a second rest stop at a cemetery where another ABB staffer came down to visit and brought yummy watermelon. He hung around through dinner and gave us a little presentation on ... Sex in the Corn Field. Yep ... We learned about how corn reproduces ... It can self pollinate or cross pollinate - which is why corn is planted so closely together. Appropriate to end our corn ride with more corn facts.
Tomorrow we go to Indiana and no doubt pass a lot more corn.
Unbelievable how much corn is grown in Southern Illinois. And I expect in Indiana, Ohio and many other places we'll be passing through. The production scale is huge ... Like the wheat in Kansas. It brings home the "breadbasket to the world" and makes that marketing phrase actually believable. Apparently even just 5 years ago you would see a lot more soybeans planted on this route, but ethinol has fueled a huge surge in corn that has all but pushed out other crops.
Yesterday riding the 107 miles between Quincy IL and Springfield we estimated that at least 85 miles of the first hundred were corn miles. Corn tunnels (what I started calling the small rural roads pressed on both sides by corn fields as far as the eye could see deep. Signs identifying the corn as a special genetic modification (like that would fly in Seattle) or as seed corn. Most getting tassels and the rest just knee high. A cool wet spring meant a late planting for most farmers here. Small white houses boxed in by huge oak trees sitting in the middle of huge cornfields. Corn on rolling hills and corn on pancake flat land that stretched for miles. No wonder corn syrup is in so many foods ... We raise enough corn to demand as many potential markets as possible.
Biking both yesterday and today was essentially 200+ miles venturing through corn with the occasional soybean field and pasture land and small town.
To amuse ourselves we invented CORNY jokes like: What do you call a group of cyclists taking pictures of corn? Cornography.
Another entertainment was the various insects that seem to like the hot humid summers around the cornfields. Every now and then you pass through a cloud of gnats and can feel them plastering themselves to your arms and face. You try to remember to wipe those off before grossing out normal people when you head into a cafe or gas station.
Or there are the beatles. Low and slow flying, about half an inch long, they occasionally bounce off your helmet or arm with a THWACK! Occasionally one flies into the vents of your helmet (or better a riding companion), and then it's amusing to watch them trying to get the helmet off and the beetle out while still pedaling 18mph. Nothing like a big bug crawling around in your hair to inspire drastic action. Better is when one flies into your jersey or sports bra ... That generally entails colorful language and groping around in your clothes trying to extract those prickly little buggers while pedaling.
Yep - that's what passes for entertainment biking through 200 miles of corn. Wonder what we'll come up with tomorrow?
But thankfully there were a few non-corn related happenings that broke up our trek east.
In the tiny town of Chapin about 60 miles east of Quincy, Bob and I pulled into to a convenience store for a little caffeine rehabilitation. Parked out front was a very homemade looking recumbent bike. ... Meet Leroy. He's a former navy guy who now is the welder in Chapin. He made this enormous recumbent bike himself, complete with a tie rod to steer, a kick stand, duel rear baskets and a huge hood ornament. The wheels were solid rubber. The handlebars were like those old bars on girls bikes with the banana seat. It must have weighed well over 60 lbs. After duly admiring his wheels, he offered to let me take it for a spin. I couldn't actually reach the pedals, but felt like sitting in a homemade recliner. Both LeRoy and his Bike were a kick.
Springfield, Illinois is all about Abe Lincoln. We got into Springfield in time for me to get a bike repair done (maybe more bad news on the frame around the water bottle connectors) and then to visit Lincoln's house when he was a lawyer and elected to the state legislator and before he won the Presidency. The Park Service had restored a 4 square block area and led tours of the neighborhood and of the Lincolns old house. They had acquired much of the Lincolns furniture that they had sold off prior to moving to DC. Lots of information on the family, their philosophy on raising children ("let them be free of parental tyranny") Mary Lincoln (a hottie from an aristocratic family who was also courted by Lincolns Political Rival Steven Douglas.).
Really interesting is they just discovered some letters that confirm that Lincoln's neighbor 4 doors down was a station master on the underground railroad. The Sheriff lived next door, too. Hard to believe that Lincoln and the Sheriff didn't know about and condone UR activity happening right under their nose ... Wonder what light this can shed on his choices as president. The whole park is really well done - worth a stop through.
Then I headed back to the hotel and cleaned up for a visit from my friend Bryan Dozer who recently moved to St. Louis with his wife. We rode together for many years with Team in Training in Seattle. It was delightful to see him and catch up ... Bryan you look fabulous and clearly this move was a really positive (even though I miss riding with you.)
Today was more corn.
Springfield to Champaign was 98 miles, but it felt pretty easy with a nice tail wind and everyone was pretty mellow and not in a hurry.
We had our first rest stop at a state park where the Lincolns had a cabin when they first moved to Illinois. Then after more corn a second rest stop at a cemetery where another ABB staffer came down to visit and brought yummy watermelon. He hung around through dinner and gave us a little presentation on ... Sex in the Corn Field. Yep ... We learned about how corn reproduces ... It can self pollinate or cross pollinate - which is why corn is planted so closely together. Appropriate to end our corn ride with more corn facts.
Tomorrow we go to Indiana and no doubt pass a lot more corn.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Day 33: Kirksville Missouri to Quincy, IL
Yesterday I overdid it a bit. And today I could really feel it.
Basically it was laziness, in a twisted sort of way. Tons of hills the last couple of days. Climbing these kind of hills in a smart way requires really working your gears. You want to maintain a steady rapid cadence so you are pedaling consistently - ideally around 90 revolutions per minute. To do this on hills, you have to work your gears constantly to make it easier to pedal when you are climbing and harder when descending.
Basically I just started short cutting it and would just stand up in the pedals and mash up the climbs rather than pay attention and do the shifting. This is fine for a bit, and fine if you can rest the next day. But it really strains your muscles, and riding nearly 100 miles day after day taxes your reserve strength. Especially for me - I tend to mostly sit and spin and rarely stand to climb so some of those muscles aren't as strong as they could be anyway. So there were two 85 mile days with serious mashing that took a toll.
To top it off I didn't get my ice bath last night because the tub was draining slow which usually means something nasty is down there and I just didn't have the stomach to clean the drain and then hunt down the disinfectant from housekeeping to sanitize the tub (like a few days ago ... Yuck.)
So when today rolled around I knew I was going to hurt after the first couple of miles. Muscles on the left side cramped and tightened and pulled into my lower back and side making the back hurt. So you stretch and contort and twist on bike while riding while making complaining grunting noises. My more spry riding companions totally outpaced me today. But that's OK cause my body is demanding I slow down and behave on the hills ...
And there were plenty as we finished Missouri before dropping into the Mississippi river flood plane 70 miles into a 97 mile ride.
Today we rode a gorgeous set of small country roads through pasture land, corn and soybean fields and farms. We passed through several more Mennonite and Amish towns and I was pretty amused seeing a teenage girl in dress, apron and cap sitting on a riding lawnmower mowing the field. She looked as surprised to see us ride by as we were to see her. The clouds and fog in the morning turned into a comfortable riding day and full on sun by mid afternoon. It was quiet and peaceful for the 70 miles heading east to the Miss river ... A good day to meditate in the saddle and enjoy just being out.
We passed through some tiny towns - Barring was one and it was sobering. There was once a big hotel there that had fallen into disrepair and other buildings on main street that were almost falling down.
Finally we dropped down into Canton, a small river town where we caught a ferry to the Illinois side of the Mississippi. The ferry took about 10 minutes to cross and just ran back and forth continually. It was a small little boat with a flat deck that sat low to the water and an engineers cabin that was attached to the deck by an arm ... The engineers cabin just rotated around to push the ferry in one direction and then back across.
On the Illinois side we were greeted by a dirt road that led to a big grain silo that was a co-op for the county ... No grand hoopla for entering the state in this direction.
We rode south through the Miss River flood plain for 15 miles - pancake flat - with the ridge that was at one point the rivers edge rising several hundred feet on our left. The flood plain was planted entirely with corn for miles. Gradually we paralleled the river again and followed it south past several parks to Quincy. The river was running gently, very muddy and brown, and I was surprised how narrow it is this far north.
Quincy is an old river town known for its architecture. We ran into a woman who is a cyclist and she gave us hints about where to find the bike shop and suggested we ride through the neighborhoods and check out the historic houses off Maine Street. I did, and they were beautiful, huge and impressive. The money here came from the railroad - the bridge west to Kansas City and beyond came through Quincy and combined with steamboat traffic it made this the second largest city in Illinois in the late 1800s.
An extra long ice bath tonight has made the muscles feel better - hopefully up for a 110 mile ride to Springfield tomorrow.
Basically it was laziness, in a twisted sort of way. Tons of hills the last couple of days. Climbing these kind of hills in a smart way requires really working your gears. You want to maintain a steady rapid cadence so you are pedaling consistently - ideally around 90 revolutions per minute. To do this on hills, you have to work your gears constantly to make it easier to pedal when you are climbing and harder when descending.
Basically I just started short cutting it and would just stand up in the pedals and mash up the climbs rather than pay attention and do the shifting. This is fine for a bit, and fine if you can rest the next day. But it really strains your muscles, and riding nearly 100 miles day after day taxes your reserve strength. Especially for me - I tend to mostly sit and spin and rarely stand to climb so some of those muscles aren't as strong as they could be anyway. So there were two 85 mile days with serious mashing that took a toll.
To top it off I didn't get my ice bath last night because the tub was draining slow which usually means something nasty is down there and I just didn't have the stomach to clean the drain and then hunt down the disinfectant from housekeeping to sanitize the tub (like a few days ago ... Yuck.)
So when today rolled around I knew I was going to hurt after the first couple of miles. Muscles on the left side cramped and tightened and pulled into my lower back and side making the back hurt. So you stretch and contort and twist on bike while riding while making complaining grunting noises. My more spry riding companions totally outpaced me today. But that's OK cause my body is demanding I slow down and behave on the hills ...
And there were plenty as we finished Missouri before dropping into the Mississippi river flood plane 70 miles into a 97 mile ride.
Today we rode a gorgeous set of small country roads through pasture land, corn and soybean fields and farms. We passed through several more Mennonite and Amish towns and I was pretty amused seeing a teenage girl in dress, apron and cap sitting on a riding lawnmower mowing the field. She looked as surprised to see us ride by as we were to see her. The clouds and fog in the morning turned into a comfortable riding day and full on sun by mid afternoon. It was quiet and peaceful for the 70 miles heading east to the Miss river ... A good day to meditate in the saddle and enjoy just being out.
We passed through some tiny towns - Barring was one and it was sobering. There was once a big hotel there that had fallen into disrepair and other buildings on main street that were almost falling down.
Finally we dropped down into Canton, a small river town where we caught a ferry to the Illinois side of the Mississippi. The ferry took about 10 minutes to cross and just ran back and forth continually. It was a small little boat with a flat deck that sat low to the water and an engineers cabin that was attached to the deck by an arm ... The engineers cabin just rotated around to push the ferry in one direction and then back across.
On the Illinois side we were greeted by a dirt road that led to a big grain silo that was a co-op for the county ... No grand hoopla for entering the state in this direction.
We rode south through the Miss River flood plain for 15 miles - pancake flat - with the ridge that was at one point the rivers edge rising several hundred feet on our left. The flood plain was planted entirely with corn for miles. Gradually we paralleled the river again and followed it south past several parks to Quincy. The river was running gently, very muddy and brown, and I was surprised how narrow it is this far north.
Quincy is an old river town known for its architecture. We ran into a woman who is a cyclist and she gave us hints about where to find the bike shop and suggested we ride through the neighborhoods and check out the historic houses off Maine Street. I did, and they were beautiful, huge and impressive. The money here came from the railroad - the bridge west to Kansas City and beyond came through Quincy and combined with steamboat traffic it made this the second largest city in Illinois in the late 1800s.
An extra long ice bath tonight has made the muscles feel better - hopefully up for a 110 mile ride to Springfield tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Day 32: Chillicothe to Kirksville MO
The show me state was showing off today.
Wildflowers were blooming like mad on an incredibly beautiful and extremely hilly 85 mile ride. Green pasture land, flower coated hillsides and farms with stately old white houses and occasional crumbling barns just kept coming all day. We were on narrow country roads. Flowers lined the road and coated fields - many which looked like mottled patches of green, red and yellow.
Lots of new wildflowers out today: yellow snap dragons, pink echinasia, and many others in purples, pinks and yellows.
The morning light and sky were beautiful and lasted much longer than usual making it a great morning for photography. The sky and clouds were layered with white fluffy clouds, some heavier and grey threatening rain and high thin clouds that looked like stretched cotton making curving soft streaks.
Basically the day was ride, stop, photo, ride, stop, photo. No speed records.
And climb. Lots of steep climbs (between 8 to 14% grade). We climbed about 4400 feet today. There is a park just outside of Kirksville called Thousand Hills State Park ... Aptly named. Someone claims they counted 146 hills ... Believable.
Our first rest top was in Linneus (population 346) about 35 miles into the ride. Next to where our van was set up was an old house
with "Jail Museum" on a sign out front. Turns out this house was the home of Linn County sheriffs from the late 1800s through the 1970s ... and it had the men and women's jail built into the house.
The sheriff and his family lived in the house. The wife also cooked for the prisoners. The men's cells were built into a large walled off reinforced room in the middle of the house directly behind the house foyer. We talked them into letting us down for a look and there were heavy metal cages built into two walls with bunk beds, graffiti and toilets. We of course staged photos locked in the cells. There was open space outside the cells with a sink, mirror and bench. The rest of the space was filled with junk being stored.
The women were kept upstairs and their rooms had iron bars over the outside of the window. One of the local museum committee ladies was telling me that women prisoners liked to shout down and scare the kids walking by when she was a girl.
The local Museum Committee had successfully gotten their jail added to the national historic building registry and were trying to raise the money to restore it. Currently they are $800 short of restoring the Sheriff's office. I was over hearing them discussing who was going to talk to the mayor about getting information on their fund-raiser in the next months utility bills mailing and how they were going to have to work around the secretary who didn't want to fold extra papers for the mailing. It's funny but I've heard the same conversation with local school districts trying to publicize their local events in WA.
I dropped a donation in the jar, but if this intrigues you consider a donation to the project. Linneus Historical Museum, 101 N. Main Street, Linneus, MO 64653.
When we got into Kirksville Bob and I still had some energy and so we kept riding downtown. Turns out Kirksville is a 2 college town - a med school (osteopathic) and a liberal arts college. The town is a funky mix of old downtown stores and diners that have been there forever and coffee shops and tattoo parlors for the college kids. The courthouse fills the main square and there are 4 historical plaques on each corner - double sided - you have to walk to the back to finish reading them. Most interesting was the "cyclone" i.e. tornado of 1899 that retells stories of women seeing white horses in the same funnel cloud, babies being found cooing 400 yards from its house and a horse still tied up to a post unharmed when the barn around it was picked up and destroyed. Less entertaining but probably more factual is that Kirksville was the site of the Civil War battle that let the Union secure northern Missouri. The town fell in 3 hours to Union troops.
Tomorrow we cross the Mississippi River and leave Missouri. Illinois has a hard act to follow after all the beautiful miles the last few days.
Wildflowers were blooming like mad on an incredibly beautiful and extremely hilly 85 mile ride. Green pasture land, flower coated hillsides and farms with stately old white houses and occasional crumbling barns just kept coming all day. We were on narrow country roads. Flowers lined the road and coated fields - many which looked like mottled patches of green, red and yellow.
Lots of new wildflowers out today: yellow snap dragons, pink echinasia, and many others in purples, pinks and yellows.
The morning light and sky were beautiful and lasted much longer than usual making it a great morning for photography. The sky and clouds were layered with white fluffy clouds, some heavier and grey threatening rain and high thin clouds that looked like stretched cotton making curving soft streaks.
Basically the day was ride, stop, photo, ride, stop, photo. No speed records.
And climb. Lots of steep climbs (between 8 to 14% grade). We climbed about 4400 feet today. There is a park just outside of Kirksville called Thousand Hills State Park ... Aptly named. Someone claims they counted 146 hills ... Believable.
Our first rest top was in Linneus (population 346) about 35 miles into the ride. Next to where our van was set up was an old house
with "Jail Museum" on a sign out front. Turns out this house was the home of Linn County sheriffs from the late 1800s through the 1970s ... and it had the men and women's jail built into the house.
The sheriff and his family lived in the house. The wife also cooked for the prisoners. The men's cells were built into a large walled off reinforced room in the middle of the house directly behind the house foyer. We talked them into letting us down for a look and there were heavy metal cages built into two walls with bunk beds, graffiti and toilets. We of course staged photos locked in the cells. There was open space outside the cells with a sink, mirror and bench. The rest of the space was filled with junk being stored.
The women were kept upstairs and their rooms had iron bars over the outside of the window. One of the local museum committee ladies was telling me that women prisoners liked to shout down and scare the kids walking by when she was a girl.
The local Museum Committee had successfully gotten their jail added to the national historic building registry and were trying to raise the money to restore it. Currently they are $800 short of restoring the Sheriff's office. I was over hearing them discussing who was going to talk to the mayor about getting information on their fund-raiser in the next months utility bills mailing and how they were going to have to work around the secretary who didn't want to fold extra papers for the mailing. It's funny but I've heard the same conversation with local school districts trying to publicize their local events in WA.
I dropped a donation in the jar, but if this intrigues you consider a donation to the project. Linneus Historical Museum, 101 N. Main Street, Linneus, MO 64653.
When we got into Kirksville Bob and I still had some energy and so we kept riding downtown. Turns out Kirksville is a 2 college town - a med school (osteopathic) and a liberal arts college. The town is a funky mix of old downtown stores and diners that have been there forever and coffee shops and tattoo parlors for the college kids. The courthouse fills the main square and there are 4 historical plaques on each corner - double sided - you have to walk to the back to finish reading them. Most interesting was the "cyclone" i.e. tornado of 1899 that retells stories of women seeing white horses in the same funnel cloud, babies being found cooing 400 yards from its house and a horse still tied up to a post unharmed when the barn around it was picked up and destroyed. Less entertaining but probably more factual is that Kirksville was the site of the Civil War battle that let the Union secure northern Missouri. The town fell in 3 hours to Union troops.
Tomorrow we cross the Mississippi River and leave Missouri. Illinois has a hard act to follow after all the beautiful miles the last few days.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Day 31: St. Joseph to Chillicothe, MO (wildflowers and Amish country)
Between enormous crop sprayer coops that stood a couple of stories off the road and had extendable arms going out up to 120 yards, and bearded men driving horse and buggies, we had interesting company on the road today.
I only know the enormous, tall tractor things were sprayer coops because the very nice woman who owned the frozen custard shop in Jamesport told us so.
Today we biked 89 miles east through Amish Country. It was an interesting contrast between the first 50 miles of farmland, tractors, sprayers, trucks and the land around Jamesport with horse and buggies on the roads and flat carts pulled by enormous draft horses sitting in yards.
Amanda at the custard shop told us there were around 1600 Amish in the Jamesport area. She grew up there and looks at her Amish neighbors as anyone else. Ahead of us in line was a young Amish man. As we were chatting after he left she told us that he already had 4 daughters, and only a year ago their house burned down with the family sleeping around the stove in the lower floors to stay warm. He barely escaped with one of the kids before the top floor collapsed in on the house. In a month the Amish community had dropped everything and rebuilt their home. It's obviously a community that looks after each other.
Beautiful ride today - rolling hills, corn and soybeans, pastures. A couple of mangy, bike chasing dogs kept things lively though I never had to deploy the water bottle squirt method of dog repellent.
And we had the best wildflowers I've seen yet. Huge fields of what looked like Queen Annes Lace or white yarrow. Yellow black eye susans. Purple thistle. Pink clover. Great purple flowers Bob looked up and identified as Chicory.
I had fun playing with photos to try and capture the color of the flowers with the green of the fields.
The roads were narrow, low traffic and rolling hills. Often no shoulders, but very fun and relaxing to ride on. As we head east there are simply more roads to ride on ... I was thinking of how much more anxiety there is riding on trafficky roads that you don't even realize you are managing until you are off them. It's like a burden off. A lot fewer flats, too.
Tomorrow we have what sounds like a beautiful ride north east to Kirksville on little county roads with tons of hills.
I only know the enormous, tall tractor things were sprayer coops because the very nice woman who owned the frozen custard shop in Jamesport told us so.
Today we biked 89 miles east through Amish Country. It was an interesting contrast between the first 50 miles of farmland, tractors, sprayers, trucks and the land around Jamesport with horse and buggies on the roads and flat carts pulled by enormous draft horses sitting in yards.
Amanda at the custard shop told us there were around 1600 Amish in the Jamesport area. She grew up there and looks at her Amish neighbors as anyone else. Ahead of us in line was a young Amish man. As we were chatting after he left she told us that he already had 4 daughters, and only a year ago their house burned down with the family sleeping around the stove in the lower floors to stay warm. He barely escaped with one of the kids before the top floor collapsed in on the house. In a month the Amish community had dropped everything and rebuilt their home. It's obviously a community that looks after each other.
Beautiful ride today - rolling hills, corn and soybeans, pastures. A couple of mangy, bike chasing dogs kept things lively though I never had to deploy the water bottle squirt method of dog repellent.
And we had the best wildflowers I've seen yet. Huge fields of what looked like Queen Annes Lace or white yarrow. Yellow black eye susans. Purple thistle. Pink clover. Great purple flowers Bob looked up and identified as Chicory.
I had fun playing with photos to try and capture the color of the flowers with the green of the fields.
The roads were narrow, low traffic and rolling hills. Often no shoulders, but very fun and relaxing to ride on. As we head east there are simply more roads to ride on ... I was thinking of how much more anxiety there is riding on trafficky roads that you don't even realize you are managing until you are off them. It's like a burden off. A lot fewer flats, too.
Tomorrow we have what sounds like a beautiful ride north east to Kirksville on little county roads with tons of hills.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Day 29 and 30: Topeka to St. Joseph MO and Rest Day in St. Joseph
Missouri feels like the South.
It's not just the humidity, though that's certainly part of it. It's the people. I spent my rest day today doing anything but resting ... touring around St. Joseph and visiting the Psychiatric and St. Joseph Museums, Jessie James house where he was killed and the Patee House museum where the Pony Express was headquartered and walking through a downtown of condemned beautiful old mansions and buildings that fell apart after all commerce moved to strip malls by the interstate. But we won't talk about what's wrong with American Urban Development. Overall, St. Joseph is an interesting place to visit. Worth a stop if you're heading through there.
In between touring around I got the 3rd worst massage of my life (The two worse were Mr. Thumbs and the woman who cried through the whole massage because her boyfriend had just broken up with her.) This one the woman was incredibly nice, so thrilled to have us (Meiri and I) in, and just unfortunately poorly trained, for some reason skipped pretty important anatomical parts needing a little help, and pretty heavy on the oil. The rest of the day roaming around downtown I felt like the oil only enhanced my simmering in the hot, humid heat - stick a fork in me already.
But what really stood out today were all the random interactions with people. These St. Joseph folks are talkers. First there was the cab driver who told us how awful this town was and how he got stuck here. How? Well ... He was working the fishing boats out of Seattle and then his former high school girlfriend who just got divorced started writing to him. So he moved to St. Joe as he wanted to retire from fishing anyway while he still "had all my fingers and toes" and moved in with her. But that didn't work out ... apparently when her ex got remarried she went to his wedding dressed in a black dress and veil. (Meiri and I told him we thought he dodged a bullet there with that gal.) Then he met his current wife, married her and got stuck. But it must not be too bad because they spent all last summer riding motorcycles all over the west, and hoped to ride out with 2000+ Harley riders who are retracing the Pony Express route in September. (In case you are interested in that kind of thing).
This happened all day. The very nice lady who gave me a massage insisted on driving Mieri and I to where we where having lunch so we didn't have to walk in the heat - so we cramped into her tiny font seat in the pickup truck for a 2 mile drive. Very sweet.
The lady at the fabric shop initiated an extensive consultation on how to best repair the hole in my bike shorts that involved all the staff and a few customers in the store.
So an interesting day.
Getting here from Topeka was a beautiful ride - and quite challenging. Hills all the way - not huge climbs but enough to keep you working. I was pooped at the end ...
We rode through farmland and pastureland for the first 40 miles of our 85 miles ride. There was rain the first 10 miles and a steady headwind all the way to the Missouri River when we turned north.
A highlight was the town of Atchison on the Kansas side of the MO river. It is the birthplace of Amelia Earhart (born at her grandparents) and while her home was closed for tour it was a beautiful large home on a bluff overlooking the MO river. There were other beautiful old houses and mansions in the historic town on brick streets lined with large oak trees. Lovely town. A wonderful riverfront park ran for miles up from the town with a Lewis and Clark interpretive area (they landed here) and a bike and footpath filled with locals taking walks or rides. A great little town.
I crossed the river on a dicey bridge where some dumb head decided it would be fun to start a conversation while driving past me on the bridge. Jeez.
And then met up with the group I was riding with and we headed north up the east side of the river towards St. Joseph. Very hilly, tired legs, beautiful country.
Now that we are in Missouri I feel like we are truly close to the end of the trip - even though we are just over half way. Vital stats so far: Approx 2100 miles ridden. 85,000 feet of climbing, 101,000 calories burned.
It's not just the humidity, though that's certainly part of it. It's the people. I spent my rest day today doing anything but resting ... touring around St. Joseph and visiting the Psychiatric and St. Joseph Museums, Jessie James house where he was killed and the Patee House museum where the Pony Express was headquartered and walking through a downtown of condemned beautiful old mansions and buildings that fell apart after all commerce moved to strip malls by the interstate. But we won't talk about what's wrong with American Urban Development. Overall, St. Joseph is an interesting place to visit. Worth a stop if you're heading through there.
In between touring around I got the 3rd worst massage of my life (The two worse were Mr. Thumbs and the woman who cried through the whole massage because her boyfriend had just broken up with her.) This one the woman was incredibly nice, so thrilled to have us (Meiri and I) in, and just unfortunately poorly trained, for some reason skipped pretty important anatomical parts needing a little help, and pretty heavy on the oil. The rest of the day roaming around downtown I felt like the oil only enhanced my simmering in the hot, humid heat - stick a fork in me already.
But what really stood out today were all the random interactions with people. These St. Joseph folks are talkers. First there was the cab driver who told us how awful this town was and how he got stuck here. How? Well ... He was working the fishing boats out of Seattle and then his former high school girlfriend who just got divorced started writing to him. So he moved to St. Joe as he wanted to retire from fishing anyway while he still "had all my fingers and toes" and moved in with her. But that didn't work out ... apparently when her ex got remarried she went to his wedding dressed in a black dress and veil. (Meiri and I told him we thought he dodged a bullet there with that gal.) Then he met his current wife, married her and got stuck. But it must not be too bad because they spent all last summer riding motorcycles all over the west, and hoped to ride out with 2000+ Harley riders who are retracing the Pony Express route in September. (In case you are interested in that kind of thing).
This happened all day. The very nice lady who gave me a massage insisted on driving Mieri and I to where we where having lunch so we didn't have to walk in the heat - so we cramped into her tiny font seat in the pickup truck for a 2 mile drive. Very sweet.
The lady at the fabric shop initiated an extensive consultation on how to best repair the hole in my bike shorts that involved all the staff and a few customers in the store.
So an interesting day.
Getting here from Topeka was a beautiful ride - and quite challenging. Hills all the way - not huge climbs but enough to keep you working. I was pooped at the end ...
We rode through farmland and pastureland for the first 40 miles of our 85 miles ride. There was rain the first 10 miles and a steady headwind all the way to the Missouri River when we turned north.
A highlight was the town of Atchison on the Kansas side of the MO river. It is the birthplace of Amelia Earhart (born at her grandparents) and while her home was closed for tour it was a beautiful large home on a bluff overlooking the MO river. There were other beautiful old houses and mansions in the historic town on brick streets lined with large oak trees. Lovely town. A wonderful riverfront park ran for miles up from the town with a Lewis and Clark interpretive area (they landed here) and a bike and footpath filled with locals taking walks or rides. A great little town.
I crossed the river on a dicey bridge where some dumb head decided it would be fun to start a conversation while driving past me on the bridge. Jeez.
And then met up with the group I was riding with and we headed north up the east side of the river towards St. Joseph. Very hilly, tired legs, beautiful country.
Now that we are in Missouri I feel like we are truly close to the end of the trip - even though we are just over half way. Vital stats so far: Approx 2100 miles ridden. 85,000 feet of climbing, 101,000 calories burned.
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