Catching up: Kentucky!

So again, I am behind on blogging. I am still trying to catch up, even though we are now on our last day in Missouri, ack!!! It doesn't seem possible. Anyway below is the breakdown of our days in Kentucky. Enjoy!

July 11th: Breaks, Va to Bevinsville, Ky. 47.78 miles. Today was our first full day of riding with Don. We all started out early and rode into the fog, down the long hill about 10 or so miles, to breakfast. We stopped at a small diner called the Rusted Fork. I had oatmeal, fried apples, toast, a bit of biscuit, and a glass of milk. I adore food. We are in the heart of coal country. We are passed constantly by coal trucks, and by the end of the day I am usually coated in a film of coal dust. Sitting down to breakfast, we shared the restaurant with several truck drivers. All sat around drinking their coffee and smoking the first of their many daily cigarettes. It is strange to sit in a restaurant and watch people smoke. We are definitely in small town America. Anyway we ended the day in the very small town of Bevinsville. They opened up a small church for us so we could us the bathroom, and then they let us camp outside. While we were setting up camp, a storm moved in. The clouds were moving so fast, swirling like a milkshake in a blender. I tried to set up my tent, but before I could get it staked down the wind was too strong. Thankfully Ivan has a two man tent so I just bunked with him. I managed to get almost all of my stuff into the tent, and my bike wrapped in the tarp before the rain hit. As the rain broke I threw the rest of my things into the tent and then literally dived in myself. It stormed all night and into the morning, delaying out start in the morning. There was a short dry spell that allowed us to get our gear packed up, our bikes loaded, before we headed out. As we were packing, a big fan full of teenagers pulled up to the church for Vacation Bible School. Before we left we were, all of us--Don included, were herded into the church for a prayer circle, where God was asked to keep us safe on our travels. Amen!

July 12th: Bevinsville, Ky to Hindman, Ky. 28.50 miles. Due to the weather today was a short day. We ended in Hindman at the Knott Historical Society, which is located on the top of a very large hill. David, the proprietor, met us at the top with glasses of the most delicious iced tea. For $25 we were shown to a large base camp tent, complete with large full-sized air mattresses. As we relaxed our laundry was done, we got a hot shower, as much ice tea of we could hold, one beer, a lovely baked potato (mine was sweet and Ivan's was Irish) with all the fixings, a shot of cognac before bed, and in the morning David made us a beautiful breakfast. It was hard to leave. The Society sits on a beautiful piece of property, and there is the most adorable infestation of cats ever. There are about 20 cats in all, including the five or so that were just born a couple of days ago. All of them are well tended, well fed, and happy. David is therefore, known as the cat-man. I have never seen so many of the feline in one place at one time. My cousin, Thad, would have loved it.


July 13th: Hindman, Ky to Booneville, Ky. 62.80 miles. Today was a hilly day. We climbed and descended about three mountains. I was walking most of the hills towards the end, but it was a beautiful day. I was on my own for most of it, being slower than Ivan or Don. I got to finish out the day as the sun set, riding through the rolling hills and fields of Kentucky. I was tired, but the sun covered everything in butter, and the sweet grass glowed as I moved by. We stayed behind a Presbyterian church that had built a shelter just for cyclists. There was a shower, an outhouse, and we didn't have to set up tents. Ivan and I made a dinner of mac and cheese with hot dogs. It was wonderful, though I think both of us are set on salt for a while.


July 14th: Booneville, Ky to Berea, Ky. 61.65 miles. Today is the day we parted ways with Don. It wasn't necessarily intentional--by the time we got into Berea Don's phone was completely dead (needing the help of the local Verizon store). So we headed towards the RV park, Oh! Kentucky Campground, where we were going to stay, and Don headed to a motel. We didn't hear from him again. Ivan has since checked Twitter and we know that Don is still plugging along somewhere. By the time we got to Berea I was in need of a salad and a large sweet tea. Thankfully, McDonald's obliged.


July 15th: Rest day in Berea, Ky. Berea is the small town where my Grandmother went to college, all those years ago. It was neat to ride down the streets that she walked daily. We spent the day with Chris and his father. Richard drove us out the a bike shop where I got the drop out on my bike replaced. It is a small metal piece that holds the rear derailleur to the frame. I think it must of gotten bent when I crashed, way back in the beginning. So for 20 bucks they fitted a new one, tuned my bike, and voila! the final remnants of the crash was fixed. After the bike shop we went and saw the new, and final, Harry Potter. It was incredible; the end of an era, marking the end of my childhood.

July 16th: Berea, Ky to Bardstown, Ky. 79.25 miles. I believe that today was our longest day yet. we managed pretty well, the terrain wasn't too bad, and we pulled into town around dusk. It was a little hard to leave Berea--our rest day went by too fast, but I can say I was a little glad to be back in the saddle. Chris and his Dad have joined us for good, at least for a while. Richard started the morning by asking me why I wouldn't put my gear in his car. I now realize how incredibly stubborn I am. I said I would get myself, and all my stuff, from point A to point B. That is exactly what I am going to do. Even though the idea of riding without any weight being pulled behind me sounds amazing. Anyway, we stopped in Bardstown at a camp ground, which I believe was named something like Oh My Old Kentucky Home Campground or something like that. I do not really remember.


July 17th: Bardstown, Ky to Big Clifty, Ky. 49.2 miles. Today was a shorter ride, but because we had ridden almost 80 miles yesterday I did not mind. We camped outside the Double L Grocery in Big Clifty. The Double L grocery is owned by Arnold and Lucy Lucas, and we were greeted by them and their daughter Lauren. Arnold was full of jokes, Lauren was wonderfully hospitable, and Lucy looked like a cross between my mom and my Aunt Sue. I wanted to hug her and never let go. But I didn't; I didn't want to get arrested for harassment. Anyway they let us into the grocery to shower, and fed us some pickled dog (bologna), pickled cucumber, and gave us large glasses of ice water. Chris and his dad set up a tent in the back, Ivan slept on an old futon that was on the side of the building, and I got to sleep in a hammock. It was bliss. In the morning we feasted on homemade biscuits and gravy.


July 18th: Big clifty, Ky to Utica, Ky. 70.49 miles. Today was a long day, ending with us riding in the dark. We try not to ride after dusk, but sometimes it is unavoidable. The day was filled with small hill after small hill. Sometimes when you are climbing up one, the curve of the road makes it look like when you get to the top that you will just fall off the other side. It is always surprising, when you get to the top of a hill like that, to see more hills on the other side. Riding like this, though, convinces me that the earth is round. I do not need to see a photo to believe it. Anyway we got to the Utica Fire Station around 9 pm. It was dark and the gnats were out with a vengeance, by the time we made it. Strangely enough I seem to ride better certain adverse conditions, like rain or darkness. I do not know what it is about being cloaked in night or drenched in rain, but my legs seem stronger and my fatigue seems to go away. Maybe it is because I know it is unsafe so I keep moving as best that I can. Maybe it is that I have to focus on other things, like trying to see the road and traffic, that I forget to notice how hard this all is. I am not quite sure, but I ended this ride strong. It felt good, and the fire station was the perfect place to stay. There were showers, we got to do our laundry, and there was a gas station across the street so I got to have a huge glass of milk before bed. Thank you Utica, population 500.


July 19th: Utica, Ky to Shawneetown, Il. 68.76 miles. Today we managed to leave the fire station bright and early. It was a nice ride through rolling country side, though it did get rather hot during the middle of the day. I hate to say it, but I did end up walking a lot of hills. This I can safely say can be attributed to the heat and not the height, nor length, of the hills. Chris had a flat tire incident, but I was already ahead of him so I could not help. Luckily for him Ivan was behind. It was a flat in the most inconvenient of places: near the valve of the tube. Long story short, instead of being able to patch it they had to over inflate one of Ivan's spare tires and ride into town on that. It worked like a charm. Mean while I waited for them to catch up outside of a diner, names The Diner. When we were all reunited we ate at The diner. For around 7 bucks, I got three large slices of roasted ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and a very large slice of homemade pecan pie. I adore small town America. We ended the day by crossing the Ohio river. I may have uttered a profanity or two when the bridge came into sight. The 5 or so miles leading up to the bridge are completely flat. The bridge however it not, but we made it up and over to stay in the small town of Shawneetown. One of the local policemen was kind enough to find us a church where we could shower and sleep.

And that is the beginning, middle, and end of Kentucky. Two states down, eight more to go, and a little over a month to do it in. Ug.

Catching up: Illinois

Alrighty, here is the skinny on Illinois so far. Hopefully I will go back and fill out some of the days, but if I don't this will have to suffice.

July 20th. Shawneetown, Il to Murphysboro, Il. 67.27 miles. Another hot day, but our first full day in Illinois. It felt really good to be in our third state, like we are actually making progress. We are still riding with Chris, and his dad is still following us in his car. Sometimes I envy Chris, with someone to carry all of his stuff. He can afford to have along some more luxuries like a full-size towel or a nice big air mattress. But we are carrying everything and I find it, at the end of the day, satisfying to know that I got myself and all my stuff from point A to point B. Each morning Richard asks if I am sure I do not want to put my stuff in his car. Every morning I am tempted, but I always say no and this morning he didn't ask--though I am pretty sure he thinks I am crazy.

July 21st. Murphysboro, Il to Rockwood, Il. 30.32 miles. We had planned on this being our rest day, just doing 30 miles. But we got a late start and by the time we were riding we hit the heat of the day. It was hell. The first 7 miles or so were not that bad. We took a break under an awning with some construction workers. The bridge we needed to cross was under construction and closed to cars. But after they moved a large piece of equipment we were able to walk our bikes across. While we waited one of the workers gave us a bottle of Gatorade to split and a Ivan scored a free sandwich. We had also planned on making it to Chester, Il, but as we were riding past the Rockwood Trading Post we were flagged down by the owner. The Post was originally a small church, but Fred bought the land it sits on back in the '90s for $300. Insane I know. Over the years he had bought up the land around it, built a house next to the post, and he now lives there with his wife, Mary, and his two children: Stevie and Chase. Initially, Fred only invited us up to give us some water, but that water turned into dinner and then an invitation to stay the night. We couldn't turn him down.

July 22nd. Rockwood, Il to Chester, Il. 9.67 miles. I know the mileage for the day is short, but technically this turned out to be out rest day. From Rockwood we made the short jaunt into Chester, passing the Welcome to Chester sign, sporting a large, grinning Popeye. Chester is after all the home of Popeye, and the town flaunts this with several marble statues of the characters all over town. We stayed at the Eagles Lodge, where they had built a small bunk house for cyclists. I spent part of the day at the library, part of the day running round trying to get a money order, and part of the day at their city pool, which cyclists get to swim for free.

July 23rd. Chester, Il to St. Louis, Il. 72.25 miles. We made great time today; in the morning we did 18 miles in an hour and a half. Our time got little slower, but we made it to St. Louis in time to spend a couple hours at the City Museum (www.citymuseum.org). IT WAS THE COOLEST PLACE EVER. It is an old factory building that was given to a bunch of artists, who basically turned it into the largest jungle gym ever. There are numerous slides (one that travels down ten floors in a spiral), four crazy floors of tunnels, hiding places, and things to crawl all over. It was all my childhood dreams, fully realized in a couple adult hours. Glorious. Tonight we are staying with Rhonda. She has left us to go out dancing, seeing as how it is a Saturday night. There was a hot shower, laundry, a lovely beer in the fridge, and a very comfortable looking bed. I do not think we could ask for more.

White Castle

I'm pretty sure White Castle makes all of their business off of first time customers. When we rolled into the one in Elizabethtown, KY, there were people outside having their pictures taken in front of it. I was hungry as heck, so hey, perfect place. Our friend Chris that we have been riding with suggested that we get a Crave Case, which is 20 burgers and four medium fries (they only have two sizes of fries, medium and sack) and the perfect amount of food!

It wasn't. It was too much food. The fries were alright, I gotta admit, but when are crinkle cut fries ever bad? The burgers were a whole other story. I've seen how they are made before, but I didn't realize what the finished product truly looked like until I had it first hand. I hate the burgers. Steamed buns, paper thin patty, onions, a pickle, and cheese. It was a wreck. But I ate nine of them. And I have nightmares about it.

In retrospect, I'm glad that we went there. Probably won't ever have it again, but I did what I set out to do. And we got some hilarious memories out of it.

Oh Heat My Heat

I hate this heat; it is so intense. Today, the 19th of July, is the hottest yet. I started biking at around 7:30 but only managed about 25 miles by 11:30 due to the head wind. Then things started to get hot. We had this brilliant plan that we would get up early, bike a couple of hours, and then take a break during the hottest part of the (from about 2-4) and then finish the day out with another 20 or so miles in the evening. Somehow, it just didn't work.

By three I was still on my bike. Well not for long anyway. By about 3:10 I decided to pull off to the side in a small clump of shade. I was just going to stand there for a minute, while I tried to remember how to breath in the water they call air around here, but then my helmet was too hot, so I figured I would just take it off for a minute. Then I looked at the ground, "look there is ground," I said to myself. "One could sit on the ground."

And that's what I did. I woke up around 3:45. It was still incredibly hot. The high today is 97, with a heat index of fantastically infernal degrees, which in layman's terms is somewhere between roasted egg on pavement and "well I guess I didn't make it to heaven" hot.

Unfortunately because I am slow anyway, Ivan and Chris spent about 45 minutes waiting for me. Though because they had to wait for me they had an excuse to find some McDonald's and shade. I think they survived.

I have had so much water to drink. I have refilled my Camelbak twice and finished one of my two water bottles. That is about 180 ounces, which equals 5.62 standard nalgene bottles. The problem is that it means I have to go to the bathroom all the time, but unlike a man I kind of have to bare all--so to speak. On a rather trafficked road, where cars zoom by, and there is hardly any shoulder cover that isn't probably infested with snakes (considering all the dead ones I have ridden past and the one live one I rode over) it is a little hard to find places to go. It is not like there is a gas station conveniently placed, according to my specific bladder needs. I have found that it is all about timing. You pick a spot, as covered as possible, and wait till you don't hear anything, drop the drawers, and hope that you timed it right. So far I have been very lucky.

How long do you think my luck can hold?

Darn men and their convenient anatomy.

We Are Expecting!!

Yes, it is true. Ivan and I will soon be welcoming a bouncing, bright, young man of 17 into our little clan.

We are calling him Chris, but his full name is Chris Xia (pronounced Shaw). He is from New Jersey, still in high school, and biking the same direction and route as us. He is riding solo with his father following in a support car.

Tomorrow, July 15th, we will head out together and Chris's father will head for home. We met him two days ago now. He is smart, fun, and very mature (for a 17-year-old). He asked us very politely if we wouldn't mind if he joined up with us. Ivan and I thought about it for maybe two seconds and said yes.

We made sure to talk finances with him. I think we have covered all the bases, and I think it will turn out well. There are some practical things to consider. It is a responsibility, and for all his maturity he still is a minor and if something were to go wrong or some accident were to happen Ivan and I would be responsible. But I have no worries. I have also checked out his blog and done some research...I like him already. His blog is chrisxia1.blogspot.com

I have been complaining of being a little homesick and Ivan joked that I could, in an attempt to rectify that, be as domestic and motherly as I want. I am sure if Chris is reading this probably thinks I am insane. I promise not to mother him...too much.

Ivan says that he gets to be the cool one of the group, the bad influence. "Quick, she isn't looking," he will say to Chris. "Let's do back flips off this."

There will be no back flips.

Vesuvius

The hill leading from the Blue Ridge Parkway (which although having gorgeous views was much harder to enjoy during a heat wave) to the town of Vesuvius should have a sign at the top and bottom for cyclists denying responsibility for anything that happens in those three sweet miles. You lose 500ft in elevation every mile on short hairpin turns. Or gain, if you're going the other direction. It's impossible to maintain momentum going up, and improbable going down. Everyone recommends partially deflating your tires before heading down. You can't ride your brakes on the hill because the heat build up on the rims will increase the PSI in the tubes to dangerous levels and could cause a blowout. You also can't bomb the hill with any gear at all because you don't have the turning capabilities. You can accelerate from 0-45mph in a few seconds. Very intimidating.

We took breaks partway down the hill in order for our rims to cool off. Another necessity. We both made it down, but Nikki blew out a tube regardless. The valve stem broke clean off of the rubber. She didn't want to stop and change it so she walked her bike the rest of the way.

All this being said, we had a great place to stay. There is a BBQ joint in Vesuvius owned by Gertie that lets cyclists camp in the back for free. We were famished and went inside to get delicious BBQ pork and slaw sandwiches (a habit since coming to Virginia). The lady working saw that we were cyclists and showed us where to set up. We had access to a hose and outhouse, which was all we needed for the day, and promptly (re:slowly) went to bed.

Oh! They brought us sharpie pens to add our signatures to the thousands of others that have rolled through the town after we had finished eating. Fantastic stuff. I drew a Croatian coat of arms next to a light bulb on the ceiling. Hopefully some one finds it.

Nikki losing her Mind

Nikki already wrote a post about her card being disabled, but for all you interested, her is a video of her freaking out.

A Commentation on Comments

So I just did a quick perusal of all the comments everyone has been so great to leave. I am taking this time to answer a couple of questions and make a couple comments of my own.

First--yes we are wearing helmets. Anytime I am on the bike the helmet is on me. We all know how clumsy I am, therefore need all the help I can get.

Second--Arianna it is really hard to write you a letter if I do not have your address. I can write and write and write and yet have no where to send them to. Get me your address; I'll write you a letter.

Third--"Our Schedule" We usually set the alarm from somewhere between 5 and six which means we get up somewhere between 6:30 and 8. Then we get ready. I have my system down and can be ready in 45 minutes if I am not rushed and 30 minutes if I feel like I need to move. This includes packing up all my gear, taking down my tent, eating breakfast, brushing teeth, pretending to wash my face, and liberally applying Bag Balm.

Then we ride. Ivan is navigator (a very good one), and I follow him. He is a lot faster than I am, and can ride a lot of the hills that I tend to end up walking. I am getting better, but I am still slow. I do not mind that much. I can take my time and look around and talk to myself. I have also started singing along to my Ipod while biking--out loud . I know I look and sound insane, but when you are in the saddle for 11 hours during the day what else is there?? I find that it actually helps me regulate my breathing and I am teaching myself how to harmonize, which is pretty fun.

Anyway, I find that I like to take a rest (about 3-5 minutes) every ten miles. I get off my bike, stretch out my shoulders and thighs, drink some electrolytes, and then get back on. We have learned not to take too long of a break in the afternoon--it just gets hotter, but I do like to take about 30 minutes to an hour for lunch. Then it is back in the saddle. We usually roll into camp around 4 or 5, sometimes 6 and then we make camp, shower if possible, eat, and sleep. It is a simple routine.

Right now I am averaging about 10 Mph. Obviously this varies going up and down hills. Mileage wise we are covering between 40 and 60 miles a day, with a grad total of 837.55. In about three or four days we will break the 1,000 mile mark!

Fourth--We are avoiding riding at night at all costs. It is just too dangerous: visibility is low for us and others, anything could happen, and it is scarier at night. So we are just having to deal with the heat. It sucks, but there is no way around it.

Fifth--in the post titled Sorry/Mineral/Domestic Abuse I mentioned a quote that I had been thinking of. The actual quote goes "we have met the enemy, and he is us." Obviously, the poster is posted above. Enjoy!

In the house of the Cookie Lady

A long day short, we eventually left Charlottesville, catching the trail again headed up to Afton and the start of the Appalachian mountain range. It was hot, it was long, and there were climbs, including a tough 1.9 mile climb to our destination.

We were going to find the Cookie Lady, June Curry, the Trail Angel of the Trans Am. She is legendary. She's hosted cyclists going cross country since the first Bikecentennial in 1976. There's a house always stocked with food and plenty of room to sleep. Everyone who bikes the trail knows of her. There's a book about her, countless news articles, and thousands of stories about her hospitality.

Sadly, at the time that we arrived she was in the hospital. She is over 90, and suffered a stroke a few years ago. They aren't sure if she'll be able to make it home this time. Her neighbor, Hope, came over to let us into the bike house to set up our things and explain the whole situation to us. She left us to our rest and we got to explore the bike museum.

She keeps everything that the 14,000+ bikers that have stayed there over the years leave or send back to her. Words don't do it justice. Without further comment, the pictures I took of the four main rooms of the bike house.

Debit Card Debacle

Ivan is blogging about this, but I figured I would add my side of the story.

My bank shut off my debit card, and it was not because I was traveling. Apparently any person who has used their card at a Michael's Craft Store is at risk for their information to be stolen, duplicated, and then their accounts cleaned out. Unfortunately, for my Christian Traditions class I had to create a reliquary as an art project. Although my reliquary, housing "the arrow" that tried to kill St. Sebastian (he was effectively martyred twice--the first time was by firing squad with bows and arrows, but he was saved by a woman who would become known as St. Irene. She nursed him back to health, so the soldiers decided to bludgeon him to death instead), tuned out really cool, I had to go to Michael's for the supplies.

Now Onpoint, my bank, did try to contact me, but my parents had recently shut off their home phone in favor of cell phones, and their number being my primary emergency/permanent number, I was effectively unreachable.

Ivan became my bank. Thankfully. But I was not able to fix the problem for about another week--seven days, when we had made it to Blacksburg, Va. This was the first town that we had come across on a day that was not a Sunday or a holiday (the 4th), and it was also the first town that was really big enough to have an ATM handy.

So I was able to call my bank, as I was standing in front of the ATM and they unlocked my account. I withdrew the legal limit ($500), and as soon as I had the money in my hands they shut the card down again. I then transferred the money to a rechargeable Visa card which is FDIC insured so if the card gets lost or stolen I can, with a little trouble I am sure, get the money back. All in all things could have been worse.

Now Ivan is going to be uploading a video of me freaking out about the card being shut off. I had just called the bank, found out what happened, and in the video I am talking to my mom about it all. Yes I was a little over dramatic. Enjoy.

Where we lose Contact

We just stopped blogging for a while. It was a confluence of events that led to us dropping off the radar, something that we are still trying to rectify (that I'm riding a blog about beginning the Appalachians when I've just finished them gives you a sense of time). Our goal after Mineral was to make it down to Charlottesville and take a rest day, something we hadn't done in mumble mumble mumble. The theme of the day was "avoid the official route at all times" and it came together splendidly. We left north out of Mineral on a tip from the blogs I have been following early in the morning and had gentle rolling hills all through to Louisa on route 22 where we eventually turned south onto Poindexter Rd. which took us through the Green Springs National Historic Landmark district. What that translates to is more easy scenic riding through pastures and by ranch houses.

But Google Maps has a sinister side to it's bike directions. It almost had us turn onto an unpaved road which led who knows where for who knows how long.We kept on going south instead and emerged out at the highway again. One of our worst habits, that we have under control now, is taking too long of a break in the middle of the day. We sat at a McDonalds reading and relaxing while the day just became hotter and hotter, and by the time we left it was scorching again.

We needed to stop by a grocer at some point, and since our camp was well out of the way of Charlottesville proper, we decided to take another detour around Lake Monticello (altogether avoiding Thomas Jefferson's house, which is a shame, but if you want to know what it looks like, just turn a nickel over) and this is where Maps betrayed us.

While you are looking at directions, the roads are kind of... simplified, so you don't get too good of an idea of what they are really like. We ventured into the woods and eventually the road disappeared. Pavement became gravel, and eventually a red clay, wrought with puddles from a storm the previous night. It wasn't that long, really, so we had to press on. Interesting riding, shady, and very creepy. There was but one house on the path, and as we passed a whole brood of pups and nursing mother came out after us. We didn't stand a chance. The mother was nipping at Nikki's trailer, and it was all we could to do walk our bikes through. Their owner eventually called them back and we were on our way again, but it made me wonder what else would happen.

As it turns out, not much. It was hot and because we were trying to avoid the big hills leading into town we took other big hills in a private neighborhood. Everyone wanted a house on a separate peak it seemed like, so the climbs were abrupt and demoralizing. I'm sure we looked silly to all the retired folk as we sat in some one's yard munching on snacks.

But yeah. We made it up the last biiiig hill (Red Hill Road!) to the Charlottesville KOA Kampground, where we were told the internet was out and that they couldn't check us in. They would let us know when we could check in, and were incredibly friendly about it. The two people working in the office were pretty young, maybe around our age, and very fun to talk with so I found excuses to wander around making conversation. We set up our camp in as private a spot as we could, there were only two other tent groups there at the time, on the other end of the road, and Nikki disappeared to the pool.

The next day was more of the same. We relaxed, and I rode north into town 9 miles to get food and call home. We had a rowdy group show up in the middle of the second night, drive around for a while, and proceed to drink and party until 2 in the morning. Not the best sleep that we've had. It was a trend for Virginia.

'So why didn't we hear from you for so long?' I ask myself using your voices. The campground was an utter deadzone for Verizon, and Nikki doesn't seem to have service anywhere so doubly for her. It was alright, we were in once place and were going to relax. We'd call people eventually, and blog even more eventually. But we lost the momentum. At the end of each day we were too sweaty and tired to write anything. But we'll fix that.

More Things I Have Learned

Alright folks here is another list for y'all (yep picked that one up)

1) Even though ocra chips are dried when you start to eat them they are still slimy.

2) Moonshine is illegal, but in a mason jar it is just water.

3) Moonshine is REALLY strong.

4) Ivan and I look incredibly trustworthy. I have been left alone in two houses and handed a pair of car keys.

5) Ivan doesn't like it when I sing Disney songs.

6) Copperhead snakes smell like fresh cut cucumbers before they strike, or when you get close (thankfully I do not know this from experience).

7) If a dog is chasing you the best thing to do is to stop and face them (and rural dog owners, some of them, get mad at the cyclists for disturbing their dogs).

8) Squirrels are not cute.

9) Turtles have a hell of a lot of blood in them.

10) Lightening goes both up and down.

11) Moonshine is really strong (wait did I do that already?).

12) The question "do you think it will rain?" will always be followed by a torrential downpour in no less then five minutes.

13) There is always a house at the top of any hill, no matter how tall.

14) And now, because none of my list was really funny, I bring you a joke from Mitch Herbert:

"I saw a wino eating grapes and I was like 'dude, you have to wait.'"

Road Kill

By proxy, I now know what rotting human flesh smells like, and I am sick of it. First, let me qualify that statement. I figure that since humans are animals, and we are all made of the same stuff when we rot we all smell the same. I have had a lot of time to think about this, considering I have seen, and smelled, more road kill than ever before in my life. The worst is when you are climbing an incredibly steep hill, going no more than four or five miles an hour, and you pass something rotting. Actually you smell it before you pass it.

I counted one day. I haven't done that since because it is too sickening. But the body count was twelve:

2 snakes
2 medium sized birds
2 turtles
1 possum
1 deer (that was sitting up and looking at me--minus the eyes)
4 UDAs (unidentified dead animal)

If I never see anything dead again I sill be ok with that.

Sorry/Mineral/Domestic Abuse

Alright folks, I am very sorry it had taken us so long to write. Part of the reason is the almost ever present exhaustion, when we finally roll into camp I never want to do anything other than sleep, the other part I will explain shortly.

First, let me say that we are seeing some beautiful country, meeting some really fantastic people, and generally having a grand time of it. As of right now, June 10th, we have covered about 680 miles. Tonight we are camped at the border between Virginia and Kentucky--I honestly never thought this state would end. But that is getting ahead of myself; I have some blogging I need to make up for. So I will go back to the night we stayed at the fire station in Mineral and explain the other reason why blogging has not been happening on my part.

The night we stayed in mineral started out fine enough. We camped at the fire station, out back under their little covered patio. Neither of us used tents, and by nine we were bedded down. Around ten thirty I started to hear some screaming--I thought, at first, that it was just a bunch of teenagers messing around. But it countinued, grew more desperate, and I began to realize that it was just one woman. I finally woke up enough to realize that the woman in question was being threatened, if not at the time physically beaten, by a man I can only assume was supposed to be her better half.

By the time I was awake enough to get out of my sleeping bag, turn on my phone, put on my shoes, and move towards the man and woman (they were only about a block away on the other side of a small field) the firemen, who were on call, were already responding, effectively absolving me of any ethical responsibility.

This is why I have been unable to blog. I can still hear her screams. I can hear her crying out, "you hit me!" I can see his white shirt bobbing in the dark of night as he rushed her, cornered her, and told her to get in the f****** car. It has taken me sometime to put a little space between me and this event. It has taken me some time not to feel raw and hurt, because what I saw was raw and dirty. I am reminded of a quote--I don't remember the author, nor do I have the wording right, but it goes like this: "is it no surprise that we have met the enemy, and that enemy is us?"

There are beautiful people in this world, and there are those who aren't. There is good, there is bad, there is right, there is wrong, and there are shades of everything in-between. The world is full of dichotomies, and what do we do when we are faced with the ugly side of that metaphorical coin? Do we stand back and trust that fate, or destiny, or God will flip that coin and make things better? Or do we way the risks and act anyway?

I don't want to get on a moral high horse--I don't have one to stand on anyway. I have been cautioned not to be to preachy in writing this, not to make people uncomfortable. But this is about sharing my experiences, and trying to fit them into the bigger picture.

So my experience? Well, I listened and watched as a desperate woman screamed. There was no pitch, no rhythm, nor did she cry for help specifically. It seemed as if fear had grabbed her throat and shook her back and forth, causing a warbling effect. So dear reader, I share this with you. Try to imagine it, try to hear it. I know it isn't nice, nor is it really polite of me to ask this. But I will sleep and wake with her screams in my head for a long time, and I think, for me, the only way to respond to this morally is to write about it.

Examine it if you want. Examine yourself if you want. We all come across a catalyst, now and again, that forces us to ask ourselves how we fit into the larger equation that is humanity. This was one for me--and it has made me realize that I have a moral obligation to try and be better, to question the world around me, and when I find myself tested to try and not fall short.

Anyway, this has been the only major shadow on the trip thus far. We have met so many wonderful people that there is a beautiful balance in favor of good in the world. I never thought I would say this, but I do believe, deep down, I am an optimist. Shocking I know.

I am going to then the phone over to Ivan now so he can post. Then I will continue to make up for lost time.

Tanti baci a tutti! (Kisses for everyone)