Ridng up the mighty Mississippi
It's been a long time since I sent out my last email, but it's been more difficult to get computer access now that I'm off the Transamerica bike route. I think that the last message I sent was sometime back in Kansas, or perhaps very early in Missouri.
Missouri was quite the experience. Massive hills, winding roads, and a complete lack of shoulders through most of the state made it into a nerve wracking few days. The next time you're riding in a car, convince the driver to speed up to 46MPH. Open the window and lean your head out into the wind. Now imagine yourself sitting on a bicycle, praying that the road really is as clear up ahead as it looks and that there are no pot holes or piles of loose gravel. That's what one of my downhill trips was like. After that I decided to play it safer and used my brakes quite a bit more. It was an amazing rush, but I don't recommend it.
Aside from a pizza restaurant owner who let me hang out, take a shower, and do my laundry one afternoon the back country of Missouri was uneventful. It's beautiful land, but I don't think I'll ever brave the Ozarks on a bicycle again.
Once I reached Johnson's Shut-ins State Park things got a lot easier. I actually reached out and shook the hand of the lady at the gate when she told me that I'd gotten past the worst of the hills. She was the first person who didn't get an evil glint in their eye and say "Hills? Nah, you haven't seen the real hills yet."
Zipping through St. Louis was a breeze. The route was really well marked, and every time I thought I might have gotten off route a sign would pop up to reassure me that I was heading in the right direction. It also probably helped that their was a major baseball game going on so most people weren't out driving around. The Arch was quite impressive, but I think I got a bigger kick out of riding along my first bike path since Pueblo. Not having to watch out for cars was a nice change of pace. The route winds along the river, switching from inside to outside of the flood control walls, so every now and then you ride through these giant missile silo type doors built into a huge concrete wall. Eventually I hooked up with the Stepping Stones bridge, an old remnant of Route 66. Once upon a time they charged cars a nickel to drive across. Now a days the cars are banned, and folks can travel across for free.
Heading up the river on the Illinois side is interesting. The towns are tiny, and there isn't much infrastructure, but the scenery is still impressive. Massive bluffs with huge stones faces cut out by the river, along with sweeping flood plains offer and interesting change of pace from the hills of the Ozarks. Every time I feel like I've seen all there is in the way of pretty scenery and that there isn't anything new, something comes along that just blows my mind. The directions I've got are designed for someone travelling North to South, so in places it's difficult to decipher the intent. Also, in places the areas are so unused to tourists that they literally don't have road signs. Fortunately the route is pretty straightforward, and I can always just ask directions to the next town on my route.
Tonight I'm staying in Nauvoo. Every time I say the name I expect to see a Star Wars critter pop up. Apparently it was settled by Mormons before they headed off to Utah. As a result it's got an interesting set of historical museums and touristy things set up.
The end of my trip is in sight now, and I'm really starting to feel the pull of the end of the trip. I've got less than a week to go, and I'm impatient for it to be over. I've been on the road for something like 27 days. I've probably got 6 more to go. It's less than a week, but it feels like it's longer than the 27 days that came before. I'm really looking forward to seeing old friends. Eating food that didn't come out of a backpack or fast food wrapper. Wearing something other than the 4 changes of clothes I've cycled through over and over. Not to mention wearing a different pair of shoes. (Did I mention that my shoes have lost their "inside the tent" privileges as of last week?)
There's a good chance that this will be the last email I send before I get home. Once that happens, I'm going to try to compile my handwritten journal, these electronic correspondences, my photographs, and my unrecorded remembrances into one massive chunk of information. Once that happens I'll let you folks know where it can be perused. Until then, thank you all for your support.
Missouri was quite the experience. Massive hills, winding roads, and a complete lack of shoulders through most of the state made it into a nerve wracking few days. The next time you're riding in a car, convince the driver to speed up to 46MPH. Open the window and lean your head out into the wind. Now imagine yourself sitting on a bicycle, praying that the road really is as clear up ahead as it looks and that there are no pot holes or piles of loose gravel. That's what one of my downhill trips was like. After that I decided to play it safer and used my brakes quite a bit more. It was an amazing rush, but I don't recommend it.
Aside from a pizza restaurant owner who let me hang out, take a shower, and do my laundry one afternoon the back country of Missouri was uneventful. It's beautiful land, but I don't think I'll ever brave the Ozarks on a bicycle again.
Once I reached Johnson's Shut-ins State Park things got a lot easier. I actually reached out and shook the hand of the lady at the gate when she told me that I'd gotten past the worst of the hills. She was the first person who didn't get an evil glint in their eye and say "Hills? Nah, you haven't seen the real hills yet."
Zipping through St. Louis was a breeze. The route was really well marked, and every time I thought I might have gotten off route a sign would pop up to reassure me that I was heading in the right direction. It also probably helped that their was a major baseball game going on so most people weren't out driving around. The Arch was quite impressive, but I think I got a bigger kick out of riding along my first bike path since Pueblo. Not having to watch out for cars was a nice change of pace. The route winds along the river, switching from inside to outside of the flood control walls, so every now and then you ride through these giant missile silo type doors built into a huge concrete wall. Eventually I hooked up with the Stepping Stones bridge, an old remnant of Route 66. Once upon a time they charged cars a nickel to drive across. Now a days the cars are banned, and folks can travel across for free.
Heading up the river on the Illinois side is interesting. The towns are tiny, and there isn't much infrastructure, but the scenery is still impressive. Massive bluffs with huge stones faces cut out by the river, along with sweeping flood plains offer and interesting change of pace from the hills of the Ozarks. Every time I feel like I've seen all there is in the way of pretty scenery and that there isn't anything new, something comes along that just blows my mind. The directions I've got are designed for someone travelling North to South, so in places it's difficult to decipher the intent. Also, in places the areas are so unused to tourists that they literally don't have road signs. Fortunately the route is pretty straightforward, and I can always just ask directions to the next town on my route.
Tonight I'm staying in Nauvoo. Every time I say the name I expect to see a Star Wars critter pop up. Apparently it was settled by Mormons before they headed off to Utah. As a result it's got an interesting set of historical museums and touristy things set up.
The end of my trip is in sight now, and I'm really starting to feel the pull of the end of the trip. I've got less than a week to go, and I'm impatient for it to be over. I've been on the road for something like 27 days. I've probably got 6 more to go. It's less than a week, but it feels like it's longer than the 27 days that came before. I'm really looking forward to seeing old friends. Eating food that didn't come out of a backpack or fast food wrapper. Wearing something other than the 4 changes of clothes I've cycled through over and over. Not to mention wearing a different pair of shoes. (Did I mention that my shoes have lost their "inside the tent" privileges as of last week?)
There's a good chance that this will be the last email I send before I get home. Once that happens, I'm going to try to compile my handwritten journal, these electronic correspondences, my photographs, and my unrecorded remembrances into one massive chunk of information. Once that happens I'll let you folks know where it can be perused. Until then, thank you all for your support.