Home Again Jiggidy Jig

Theresa arrived in Virgina Saturday. I was still hurting and Doctor Davis wanted to see me again so we decided to stay in Virginia and have a nice visit. Besides, my sister is a great cook and Ronnie, my brother-in-law, keeps an assortment of candy in his country store/garage that I frequently raided during my short walks. Their home in Virginia is about as close to an old Southern plantation as you can get. They have about 30 acres with about half pasture for their horses and some wooded acreage that Ronnie clears during his spare time. The two story colonial house is set back from the road on about three cleared acres with plenty of mature trees to provide shade in the summer. The weather while we were there was perfect about 70 to 75 degrees during the day and cool at night. So during the day I could sit comfortably on the patio and listen to Ronnie's favorite blues station and drift away in a hydrocodon induced haze. On Tuesday I had another visit with Dr. Davis who just happens to be my niece Fran's father-in-law. He is without doubt the best doctor I have ever had treat me. If I lived anywhere near Radford, Virginia, Russel Davis would most definitely be my doctor. Fran is his office manager and with her and the excellent nursing staff he has I got the best care an unfortunate cyclist could ask for. Dr Davis didn't see any reason I couldn't make the trip home so Theresa, Ronnie and Sandra packed my gear and we departed Wednesday. The eleven hour drive to Gainsville was tedious and a little painful but I was amazed at far you could go in just an hour. For the last two and a half months it took me all day to get to the next town much less the next state. Anyway we stopped every two hours or so and I would go for a short walk and stretch my legs and change positions. The drugs dull most of the pain but I still feel the bones rub against each other when I move and that's a little disconcerting. Coughing presents intense pain in spite of the drugs, so I use my best manners when I eat and drink. We stopped in Gainsville and spent the night with Eve. We called her before we left Virginia and warned her that we were coming and she said she would fix supper for us. Knowing Eve I was not too surprised when we sat down to eat and she had prepared......spare ribs. Theresa and I got on the road Thursday around 1 o'clock and arrived back on the island around six. Today I checked in with my local doctor and got a new prescription of vicoprofen. My blood test had revealed slightly elevated liver enzymes and the new drug should bring them back into normal range. Broken ribs are like fingers and toes, not much you can do for them except manage the pain and don't sneeze. This week I am going to lay low, rest and stay close to home. The last thing I want is to get sneezed on and catch a cold. I want to get back on the bike as quickly as possible....the journey awaits.
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Dogged in Kentucky

First off I guess I have to fess up about the last entry. I didn't visit the distillery, tasting room nor my old Kentucky home. That was just to get you interested in seeing the video of those places. Of course when you expected to see houses and distillers you got to see me horsing around. And, no I wasn't three-sheets-in-the-wind when I did it, as was thought by my sister, Sandra. Sober and hangoverless, I left Bardstown Sunday morning. Sunday was a beautiful clear day. The road from Bardstown to Lexington was somewhat rough with no shoulders, but from Lexington to Danville was smooth with a wide shoulder. I left early as usual and planned on stopping in Danville and visiting the bike shop the next day. I was about 13 miles from Danville when fate stepped in again. I was rolling on a slight down hill when I looked to my left and saw two huge dogs running toward the road. My speed was somewhere between 15 and 20 mph and at first I thought I'd out run them. But then they angled to cut me off. I had two cans of pepper spray in my left front pannier but couldn't reach them. I should have stopped right then but didn't and kept thinking they would pull up and stop. They didn't. They were big dogs with heads like Rottweilers but they had stocky bodies of a much larger dog. They looked like small horses running toward me. One came to the front and one went to the rear. I am not sure which one hit me first, but the next thing I knew I was headed one way and my bike was headed the other. I often wondered what would happen if I fell. I always thought in a fall I'd probably break a leg due to the shoe clips but was pleasantly surprised when I hit the ground sans bike. I hit my right palm first, then my head, left arm/shoulder and finally the left side of my back. I laid on my right side after the impact and rested for a moment thinking ...well, that wasn't so bad. I was relived when the dogs went back to the other side of the road and didn't attack me. If they had I couldn't have defended myself. After a short while, I started checking body parts to see if they worked. Arms OK, shoulders OK, legs OK. Now knowing I wasn't paralyzed, I tried to sit up. An intense hot pain shot through my body, the worst pain I have ever felt. I knew then something was broken. After about ten cars passed finally a concern lady stopped and asked me if I needed help. At first I told her no that I'd be alright. Another car stopped and the women in it was a nurse. She convinced me that I needed an ambulance and a doctor. By this time about five cars had stopped and one was an off duty fireman. When the ambulance came they had to roll me over onto the stretcher. Ouch. Again at the hospital I was moved from table to table. Ouch, ouch and ouch! I was moaning and groaning so loud that the doctor said to hit me with morphine. I got two hits of morphine and another shot of something else. Only then did the pain subside. After the xrays, which exposed three broken ribs, they gave me another shot just for good measure. I was at the hospital, my bike was at the fire station 13 miles from Danville and my little buddy was with the sheriff. Once I knew I had broken ribs, I knew I'd need some time to recover. I called my sister, Sandra and she dropped what she was doing and headed in my direction. It took six hours to reach Danville. So when the doc released me the sheriff came and picked me up and drove 13 miles to get my bike. He had my buddy with him and then took me to the pharmacy to get my pain scrip filled. With all my gear (I thought) he then dropped me off at Hampton Inn to await my sister's arrival.
I arrived at Hampton Inn around two and Sandra arrived around eight. Since it was about a six hour drive and the room was paid for we decided to stay the night. Yesterday, we left early and made the drive to Christenberg, Va. but we had to stop a couple times for me to adjust my body. I thought I could go without pain meds but was severely reminded that I need it. Little can be done with broken ribs other than time. My breathing is labored and turning my upper body is like sticking a knife into my back. When I got to Sandra's house I got my dirty clothes out to wash and checked my panniers for my worldly possessions. The only thing that was missing was my camera. I downloaded all my pictures to a two-gig mini drive and that was in my camera case. Lost, all lost. Today I had to sneeze and the pain was immobilizing and Sandra had to take me to their family doctor. They took another xray and it appears I have four broken ribs and some water build up in my lungs. I got two more shots for pain and another more potent scrip and believe you me I'll take them. I am not sure how long my recovery will take. The doc in Danville said six weeks and the doc here said about eight weeks. I hope it's not that long. I'll rest here in Virginia until I can travel and then go home to recover fully. Theresa will come Friday or Saturday and I'll probably leave for the island shortly thereafter. Thank you all for following along with me and giving me your support. I'll go back to weekly entries until I can get back on the road. Doggone it.

Bardstown

Yesterday was a rest day so I toured Bardstown. Bardstown is the second oldest city in Kentucky and also called the Bourbon capital of the South. Of course a tour of the city wouldn't be complete without a tour of the historic Tom Moore Distillery. So I caught the city trolley and imbibed my way around town. Also, there is a tasting room that offers a sampling of all the bourbon made in Kentucky. After the tour and tasting I wobbled over to My Old Kentucky Dinner Train and had a nice ribeye to settle my stomach. And a visit to Bardstown wouldn't be complete without a visit to My Old Kentucky Homesite. Since I still had wobbly legs I chose to ride in the horse carriage that circles the city for a small fee. I am not sure what type of horse it was but I think it had a stomach ache. Anyway, the home was the inspiration for Stephen Foster's song My Old Kentucky Home. Even though he was a Yankee and only visited the South one time he was inspired enough to pen that and others such as Old Susannah. After that tour I'd had enough. I didn't take pictures but I made a video of the days events. Hope you enjoy it.

Honest...Abe, Wild Turkey

Thursday I packed and headed down Hwy 110 not knowing how far I'd go or where I'd spend the night. The roads where pretty good and the traffic was light. Along the way, pretty much in a place you wouldn't expect, I passed a great resort area for golfers called Rough River Dam State Resort Park. There were a couple of hotels to the left and small airfield to the right. The night before R.D. said it was one of the best courses in the U. S. I am not a golfer and wasn't familiar with the course but from the road it looked like a golf course to me. If you have an airplane and like to golf, Jack, you might want to check it out. As the Kentucky sun rose higher and started baking my brain I had a moment that I can only describe as "road trance". This part of the trip has a lot of turns to different roads, both numbered and named. So I was constantly checking the map making sure I was making the right turns. Somewhere in there I zoned out. I am not sure what happened but I can only describe it as road trance a kind of blank thought. Anyway, when I snapped back, I convinced myself I had missed a turn and I even remembered passing the numbered road. I turned around and started retracing my route. Right after I climbed a fairly big hill I met Mack and Zack coming down the trail. Mack and Zack were two of the six bikers I had stayed with in Sebree. At first they didn't recognize me. When Mack realized it was me his next question was where are you going. I asked if they had passed Hwy 79 and of course they hadn't. I know I sounded like a total idiot when I described my out-of-body experience and they probably wondered how I made it that far by myself. I rode with them for a couple of hours but their twenty something legs were too much for me and during one fairly long and steep climb, they dropped me like a bad habit. When I got to the top of the climb, there was a store on the right and I decided to take a break. The store is a combination grocery/hardware and restaurant and meeting place for locals. I had traveled about 45 miles, most of it up and down and was thinking about stopping for the day. On the map there was a camping icon at the intersection so as I got something to drink and asked the lady, Karen, where I could camp. Right here she says, they do it all the time. The store, The Double L Grocery, is owned and run by Arnold and Lucy. They allow biker/campers to pitch tents behind the store and treat them to dinner. OK, twist my arm, I decided to make it a short day and get out of the heat. As I drank my Gatorade Arnold showed up and welcomed me to stay and started making plans for supper. Apparently he has had lots of people stay at the store and right away started introducing me to all the locals that came in. One of them was Carl who hung out there most of the afternoon. Arnold suggested we play a game of "Toss the Corn". A game that apparently in rural Kentucky has replaced horse shoes. What the hay, I'm game. The game is played with four people (we only had three) with two on a team. You toss square packets of corn into a hole cut into boxes about thirty feet apart. Scoring is similar to horseshoes in that you get points for landing on the box or in the hole and can cancel each others score. Having spent the best part of the day in the sun it was a little demanding to pitch packets of corn for an hour but it's the journey. Finally we got back inside and dinner got underway. Lucy works as a family counselor and didn't arrive till around seven so Arnold fixed dinner. We had roast beef and potatoes and corn on the cob. After dinner and some small talk it was time for bed. Arnold said I could pitch my tent or sleep under the awning of the store. Then Lucy suggested I drag the recliner outside the store and sleep in it. At first I thought she was kidding. Realizing she wasn't I thought I'd give it a try. Didn't work. Outdoors, in a recliner, in the summertime even in Kentucky is probably not a good idea. Around midnight I pitched my tent. It was a clear night with little possibly of rain so I didn't need the fly. With just the mesh net it was like sleeping under the stars. Friday morning I drug the recliner back into the store, had a sausage biscuit and hit the road. I had one goal in mind, get to Bardstown and a hotel. My last rest day was with the Fishers on the 4TH and after three days on the ground and six days biking I was ready for a bed and rest. On the map Bardstown was a 71 mile ride but I was able to trim a few miles by avoiding tourist stops. I did however go by Abraham Lincoln's birthplace near Hodgenville and see the cabin that he supposedly lived in. Later on I topped a hill and enter Bardstown and was greeted with the very strong odor of Kentucky whiskey. After passing the distillery and turning left at the intersection, wham mo there it was a "red dot" hotel. Last night I slept soundly and today is a rest day. There's an all-you-can-eat buffet across the road complete with collards and cornbread.... my my.

KFC

Tuesday, having cleverly avoided Jimmy's fate, I crossed the ferry into Kentucky. Before I crossed the Ohio I had breakfast at Jay Gees. When was the last time you saw a Western Omelet on the menu for $3.50? At those prices I wanted to stay and have lunch but decided I better press on. My goal for the day was Sebree. The first Baptist Church and Pastor Bob Hardison and his wife Violet open their doors to cyclists every year. As I traveled Eastward all the West bounders I met said I had stay there. And, they were right. Six other bikers spent the night and we were all treated to a home cooked meal of spaghetti. They've been treating bikers like family for years, never turning anyone away. Their hospitality is legendary. Sadly, during dinner Bob was notified that one of their good friends and church member passed away and Bob went to console the family. I didn't see Bob again, as I rose early and got on the road to Fordsville, 55 miles closer to the coast. There were no hotels or camping spots designated on the map. So, I stopped at the Clerk of Courts and asked if they had a place to camp but the lady referred me to City Hall. I went to City Hall (across the street) and it was closed. As I sat there waiting a truck drove up with golden retriever in the truck bed. I told her the door was locked but about that time someone appeared at the door and said for us to come in. Again I asked about a camping site. She didn't know either but said I could ask the man who cut the grass at the park. The truck lady advised against it. So I left to ponder my fate. When the lady, Penny, came out she asked if I only wanted to camp and said she had a big tree I could pitch a tent under but that she'd have to clear it with her boyfriend, R.D. I followed her to the house and waited for R.D's OK. Having satisfied himself that I wasn't an ax murderer, he gave me the go-ahead to pitch my tent. As I waited for the sun to go down Penny brought out a jug of cold refreshing water which I immediately drank half of it. Later, R.D. came out to meet and satisfy his curiosity. I liked him and soon he was comfortable enough with me that he showed me his Harley, a Heritage Softail. A beauty. Pretty soon I had another jug of water and was in their kitchen eating one of my favorite meals, hot dogs. I pitched the tent and put the fly over it and lucky that I did. It started raining. R.D. offered the couch or the man room next to his Harley but the tent was high and dry. I entered the tent around 10 and lay listening to the rain hit the fly and occasional thunder. Suddenly it was morning and time to go again

The Ohio

Brian dropped me off next to Popeye on a cold, rainy and bleak Sunday morning. I heard him laugh as he smoked his tires up hwy 13. Just kidding Brian. No, we had a very good visit and Brian and Jane went way beyond expected courtesy and made me feel totally at home and welcome. Thank you, Thank you. After Brian dropped me off, I rode next to the Mississippi for a couple of miles. Enough time to see one of those exceptionally long barges that clog the river. It must have been two football fields long and sorry but no photo. I'll try to get one tomorrow when I cross the Ohio. As the road turned away from the Mississippi a light rain began to fall and actually was a little cool. Cool enough for me to put on a light jacket. It was fairly comfortable but the rain continued till I reached Carbondale. I waited around wishing that the rain would stop since I wanted to get in more than 40 miles. The rain did let up but didn't clear and I was afraid rain would come again. So, I found a hotel and stayed there for the night. This morning I rose to fog. It was bad but not bad enough to prevent me from biking. I turned on my lights that Matt outfitted me with and donned my yellow jacket and hit the road. The temperature was perfect all morning and most of the afternoon. I made several water stops, loading up on Gatorade and filling my bottles. My last stop was about 22 miles from Elizabethtown where I sat and talked with three locals, two men and one women, about the economy and local politics. As we were talking we kept hearing a pleating meow from a parked semi. The meow was obviously a small kitten and seemed to come from the wheelwell of the massive truck. The lady when over to investigate but couldn't locate it. So as I was leaving I gave it a try. Luckily I was able to coax the kitten out. Carl, one of the men and animal lover, took the kitten to add with two others he rescued. After doing my good deed for the day I got back on the bike and finished a 75 mile day, making up some of the missed miles. So, now I am 10 miles from Cave-in-Rock. Tomorrow I'll catch the ferry, cross the Ohio River and enter Kentucky. That means two states to go, but who's counting?

Happy Birthday

Yesterday I crossed a bridge over the Mississippi and entered Chester, Illinois. Over the past two months I've crossed, ridden beside and camped along a lot of great rivers including the McKenzie, the Powder and the Snake. But none gave me the feeling I got when I crossed the bridge over the Mississippi. I guess the Mississippi to me is not only a great river but in some ways represents the South and the South is my home. It will probably take me three to four days to cross the lower portion of Illinois and then I'll only have Kentucky and Virginia remaining. So, the Mississippi is like a huge sign saying, "welcome home boy". When I crossed the very narrow two lane bridge I looked back and saw a packed bike parked just across the bridge. I went back and saw a rider laying on a nearby bench resting. It was then I saw the statue of Popeye. Chester is the home of Elzie Segar, the man who created the character, Popeye the Sailor. As I took my picture with Popeye I made enough noise to wake up the biker. He was heading North to meet a friend and they were going to ride the Ragbrai in Iowa. We talked for a short while and soon it was time to find a room. There's only one hotel in Chester so I headed to the Best Western. As I registered my phone rang. It was Brian Fisher an Air Force buddy I reconnected with last year on a kayaking trip down the Suwanee River. He and his wife Jane live near St Lewis and they invited me up for a meal and warm bed. They have a lovely home in the burbs and spirited English Springer Spaniel named Ivy. Tomorrow Brian will drive me back to the Mississippi and I'll continue the trip. But, I've had two visits with family and friends and now more than ever I am ready to complete my journey.

K.C.

I left Chunute and on the way to Pittsburg met another eastbound rider. His name was Dave and he was 62 years old. He started in the LA area and was headed to Kentucky to meet his wife. Our speed was compatible so we spent the day on the road together. I stopped in Pittsburg and he went on to Golden City to make up time. He wanted to do the miles so he could stay on schedule. I told him about my bout with the heat the day before and that I needed another light day so I did my 60 and he pressed on. I was a little concerned about his decision but each rider makes his own rules. Pittsburg is a town of about 19,000 and a bike shop. I wanted to get a new set of tires but they didn't have what I wanted but it was a good stop anyway. I got a good nights rest and pressed on to Ash Grove the next day. Ash Grove is a small town of about 1400 with no hotel so I intended to camp. I got directions from a nice lady at the convince store and was headed to the park when I met three other bikers headed west. They were stopping in Ash Grove to camp as well and I told them to follow me to the park. As we started to leave Dave, the 62 year old, rode up. My concern about him pressing on turned out to be accurate. He ran into heat problems the day before and said he almost passed out. He called his wife and she told him not to worry if he didn't make Kentucky when she got there then she'd come pick him up. As the five of us went to the park, Mike, one of the local deputies, stopped us and said the city was opening up the community center for us to sleep in.
It was really great. They gave us access to the swimming pool, community center and provided bottled water and refreshments for us all. I talked at length with the city park director, another Dave, about the benefits of small town living. What a great community they have and I hated to leave the next day, Sunday. No WiFi so I couldn't blog but boy I really enjoyed the whole experience of Ash Grove, Mo. The terrain in Western Missouri is rolling hills with occasionally steep grades but on Sunday the extreme heat subsided and it was a fairly comfortable biking day. Dave and I left early while the westbound group were eating breakfast. My goal for the day was Marshfield. I had a date. My sisters Sandra and Cynthia and a friend Brenda were on a road trip and part of the trip was meeting me in Marshfield. I expected to see them around noon on Monday but 1200 0'clock that night I was pleasantly surprised when they knocked on the door. Oh, no Wifi at the hotel, kinda cheesy so I missed blogging again. The next morning we all jumped into the car and drove to Kansas City to meet Theresa. What a great mid tour R & R. Monday, Tuesday and today are rest days with my family. It has been so great seeing them after being on the road for two months. For a short while all was forgotten, no miles, no bike, no heat, just seeing people I love and have missed. Sandra put it all together and got the ball rolling, put dates and times together and for that I'll always be thankful.
Tomorrow it's over and back on the road but I am renewed and refreshed and ready to finish the tour.