Baptized

As predicted, today Harvey got a piece of us too. Nothing like what the folks back home are dealing with, but we did get wet for the first time.

It started well enough, as we left Paris on wet roads under overcast skies. The riding was nice -- not too busy, scenic, and a nice tailwind. After about 20 miles it started raining in earnest. We pulled out our rain jackets and continued on. Fortunately the road had a wide, smooth shoulder. Once wet, riding in the rain is not unpleasant. It's fun to watch the rain fly off the bike and hear the tires hissing along. The biggest challenge is dodging the rooster tail of the bike ahead. It rained hard for about 45 minutes and then tapered off.

Eventually we crossed into Kentucky and headed toward the ferry landing in Hickman, where we planned to have lunch before making the crossing. As we rode through the town, it appeared to be a deserted ghost town and we were a bit concerned about finding something to eat. But about half a mile before the landing, we ran across a little cafe called Memaws that was packed with people. Apparently the entire population of the town was having lunch at Memaws.

Dripping on the state line

We decided to go check out the ferry to see what the schedule was before eating. The ferry -- consisting of a tugboat lashed to a barge -- was there and the guy told us there is no schedule; the ferry just runs on demand. "If we ain't here, we's on the other side. Just push the button and we'll come get ya."

So we headed back to Memaws where I had the best Philly Cheesesteak of my life. We must have been quite a sight, sitting in our cycling clothes with puddles spreading on the floor.

Then it was back to the ferry. This time there was no boat, so we "pushed the button" as instructed. The ferry landing is literally a road that slopes down to a beach. The ferry simply runs its ramp up onto the beach and opens the gates. No dock, no station, no chairs, no nuthin'. Just a ramp, a beach, and a button on a pole. So we waited about 20 minutes and finally the ferry appeared, carrying a grand total of one car. Once it unloaded, we strolled on with our bikes, they closed the gates, collected our $2 each, and we were off. The ferry was completely empty except for the two of us and our bikes. Obviously there is not a lot of demand for crossing the Mississippi River at this particular point.

The Hickman-Dorena Ferry, complete with Porta-Potty

Crossing the Mighty Mississippi

Two bikes, no cars. Gross revenue for this trip: $4

After about a 15 minute trip the ferry beached at a similar ramp on the other side at Dorena, Missouri. Our third state today! And we were now west of the Mississippi. Hard to believe just 9 days ago we started in Charleston.

Soon we learned why there was so little traffic. On the Missouri side there was a whole lot of nothing. Just a expanse of flat farmland and long straight roads that parallel the levees along the river. It was ideal for cycling, especially with the continuation of the strong tailwind we enjoyed all day.

We made great time toward New Madrid, the first town of any size after the crossing. Until, that is, we saw a sign that Road WW (apparently Missouri uses an alphabetic labeling system for its roads) was closed ahead. Why we were contemplating our options, which were not good given the sparsity of roads in the area, along came a pickup, literally the only vehicle we had seen for about 20 minutes. We flagged it down and asked about the best way to New Madrid. The guy told us that the road was closed due to construction on the bridge, and that we should be able to get through by walking our bikes around.

We continued on and came to the bridge. Sure enough, there was a pathway of sorts around the construction, but it ran through a muddy field. By the time we got across, our shoes and bikes were covered in gooey, sticky gumbo mud, the kind that globs onto everything and is impossible to get off when wet. So we spent the next 30 minutes or so cleaning our bike tires, brakes, and shoes as best we could.

The Mud Pit

Then it was on to New Madrid, where there are restaurants but no motels, and 8 miles south to Marston, where there are motels (of sorts) and no restaurants. That is, other than Jerry's Cafe, where you can buy a beer at the co-located convenience store, and drink it while you type your blog and watch it rain. Which is exactly what I'm doing right now.

96 miles today, mostly flat and wet.

Bonjour from Tennessee

Today's route was supposed to be 97 miles from Nolensville to Camden, TN. The ride itself was uneventful with exception of two flat tires: one a blowout in the rear due to some piece of sharp debris, and one a slow leak in the front due to a tiny piece of radial belt wire. So tonight we are patching tubes and ordering replacements to be delivered to Tom's sister's in Kansas.

Anyway, apparently we are not immune from the wrath of Harvey after all, as a sizable spin-off band is headed this way. So with rain in the forecast and a planned 115 mile day tomorrow, when we arrived in Camden and it was still not raining, we elected to press on to....

... that's right, PARIS! It's true: Paris, Tennessee has it's very own replica Eiffel Tower. Right between the obligitory Dollar General and the Waffle House.

On the subject of architectural wonders, this is the bridge where the Natchez Trace Parkway crosses Highway 96 west of Franklin. I'd seen it from the top before; this time I got to see it from below.

The best part of today's ride: nice scenery, nice weather, nice road

Big ride today but we are happy to have the extra 25 miles in the bank. Today's stats: 119 miles, 5295 feet of climbing. Tomorrow looks like our first encounter with rain. If all goes acccording to plan, we'll be across the Mississippi in Missouri tomorrow night.

Hot Blazin' Recta

(This post is for yesterday, Tuesday August 29.) Sorry I did not get to post yesterday. One somewhat surprising aspect of this trip is how little free time we have. We usually arrive each day between 2 and 4, but then there are showers to take, laundry to do, wives to call, maybe a little bike work, next day's bike food to buy, dinner to eat, and yes, a blog to write. Yesterday we spent a couple hours working out stopping points and hotels for the Kansas to Colorado leg. The challenge is finding towns large enough to have hotels that are spaced roughly 80-100 miles apart. As we get further west that gets harder to do.

The ride yesterday was kinda ho-hum. After retracing our steps on the bike path that connects Monteagle and Sewanee, we headed north on US 41A. It was a bit busy, and plagued with what seems to be a common theme of the highways at least here in Tennessee: in many places there is no shoulder, and in many other places there is just enough of a shoulder for a bicycle, but the highway department has seen fit to defile it by carving rumble strips into it, making it totally unrideable. Our choice is either to ride to the left of the strip in traffic, or try to thread the needle to the right between the strip and the edge of the pavement -- an area that's often full of gravel or other debris. We were able to get off the highway onto some side roads for some stretches, so that was welcome relief.

Anyway, about the title of the post. It's not surprising that our bottoms are a bit tender after 7 days and 600 miles of riding. So when we saw this barbecue sauce at our dinner spot (Jim Oliver's Smokehouse in Monteagle, highly recommended) we got a good chuckle out of it.

Many jokes about separate beds, San Francisco, etc.

Our stop yesterday was at Will and Pam's home in Nolensville, just southeast of Nashville. Will is Lisa's brother and he was kind enough to cook us a great spaghetti dinner in spite of being on crutches from a ruptured Achillie's tendon. Plus we got to see their adorable daughter Olivia who sent us off with a big hug.

Yesterday's stats: 91 miles, 2899 feet of climbing (it's surprisingly flat between Sewanee and Nashville)

New State! New Time Zone!

This morning about 20 miles after departing Lafayette we exited the northwest corner of Georgia and crossed into Tennessee at Chattanooga. Before the trip I had heard lots of bad things about bike riding in Georgia but I thought it was terrific and has set a high bar for the rest of the 8 states we will visit.

On the map our entry into Tennessee follows the Tennessee River. We thought that meant it would be somewhat flat. Little did we know the banks rise steeply from the river so even a quarter mile displacement can mean a 200 foot elevation change.

Not far away, but a long way down

Crossing the Tennessee River on TN-156 via the Shelby Rhinehart bridge 

At South Pittsburg we stopped for lunch at this great little cafe called Harvey's Pirate Restaurant (Aaarrgh!), run by two elderly women and full of locals. All the staff and customers were full of questions and advice for us. One gentleman had lived in LA and suggested we should go there instead of San Francisco, which we could do just by hopping on I-10. When we told one woman how we were on this cycling trip while leaving our wives home to deal with the Harvey mess, she responded by saying "I wish my husband would leave me alone for awhile."

One of the fun things about a trip like this is how your body incinerates calories. I have been eating roughly double what I normally would, and it all tastes amazing. Last night I had a huge salad with gyro meat, an order of lasagna, bread, and onion rings. Today at lunch I had a BLT and fries. This is in addition to snacks along the way. And now it's 3 PM and I'm hungry again. It's fun just to be able to eat and eat and not worry about gaining weight. If anything, I probably worry about not getting enough.

Anyway, shortly after the break we encountered a wall of a climb called South Pittsburg Mountain. It rises just over 1000 feet in about 2 miles, averaging about 10-11% gradient. I was standing on the pedals grinding away in my lowest gear (34-28) and making about 3-4 miles per hour. As they say in South Pittsburg, Aaarrgh! At one point I had to resort to zigzagging back and forth (called "paperboy-ing") in order to keep from falling over. I figured if it was good enough for Tour de France winner Chris Froome on the Peyragudes, it was good enough for me.

After the climb there was a long, pretty stretch of rolling hills on a high plateau. We were both feeling pretty good and spun along at moderate pace, knowing we had the extra hour from the time change working in our favor.

Our route intersected US-41A between Sewanee and our hotel in Monteagle. Much to our delight there is a great little bike path that connects the two so we did not have to ride on the busy highway, which made for a nice finish to the day.

82 miles and 5667 feet of climbing today. Into Nashville tomorrow.

P.S. I would love to know who is reading the blog so if you are so inclined "sign the guest book" by writing a comment. Also, let me know what you'd like to hear about and I'll do my best to work it in. -Al

Georgia Peaches

Firstly, I have to say that I feel kinda bad sitting here writing about my frivolous little cycling adventure when all of you back in Houston are dealing with all that caca. I hope everyone is safe and well.

They don't know the half of it

So it's with a bit of reluctance that I report that today was a truly great day of cycling. The North Georgia countryside is a cycling paradise: good roads, virtually no traffic, beautiful scenery, lots of variety, and of course a few hills for challenge. We also benefitted from great weather. It's been unseasonably cool for the past few days with mid-day temperatures in the mid 80's. Finally, we were aided by a delicious tailwind most of the day.

Cycling nerd selfie

Our first stop was in a little town called White. The centerpiece of the village is this little emporium that sells everything from ice cream to auto parts to guns. Unfortunately, it being Sunday, they were not open, but the owner was there watering the plants and offered to fill our bottles.

Political views expressed in this picture don't necessarily reflect the views of this blogger

Evidence that we were on a cycling-friendly route came in the form of directional arrows for what were obviously organized rides painted on the road.

Which way for the 3000 mile route?

We also encountered several other cyclists along the route and would hollar "San Francisco!" as we passed. Generally we just got strange looks in return.

We arrived in Lafayette (Georgia) just after 2. Out hotel has shampoo, Wi-Fi, breakfast (quality TBD) and even an outdoor pool. There's nothing like jumping into a pool after a long day of riding.

Today's stats: 93 miles, 5360 feet of climbing.

Enjoying a break in the Johns Mountain Wildlife Management Area

Yes, there are mountains in Georgia

Atlanta

A good day today -- pleasant temperatures, nice roads, and overall feeling pretty good. We arrived in the outskirts of Atlanta where we are being graciously hosted in absentia by my cousin Holly.

We had planned the route carefully to avoid the busy North Georgia roads. By and large we did pretty well. For the most part we were on quiet back roads, with just a few stretches on the main drags.

The Georgia countryside is very pretty, reminding me at times of upstate New York: green, with rolling hills. Emphasis on hills!

One of many nice spreads

Friendly fellows

Approaching Atlanta, we rode along Buford Dam Road along the edge of Lake Lanier. The lake is very pretty and the road even features a bike lane, which was a welcome treat.

Today's stats: 74 miles, 4047 feet of climbing. So far we've ridden 334 miles, just about 10% of the total trip.

Go Dawgs!

Today was a relatively easy day compared to the last two. It was cooler and we had a good tailwind for much of the day. After a breakfast consisting of cold pizza, oatmeal, and Starbuck's Mocha Latte in a can (yum) we rolled out just after 7. We had some cloud cover so the temperature was pleasant. My butt and my legs were complaining a bit, but a big long downhill helped to assuage that a bit.

Then, disaster! Once again our RideWithGPS route had us turning onto a gravel road. I suppose with a name like "Seed Tick Road" we should have been suspicious -- had we thought to check. Our choices were difficult. We could take the gravel road -- but it was loose and trecherous. We could backtrack to Lincolnton up the big hill, and extend the day by 12 miles. Or we could continue into unmapped territory and try to rejoin our route. After a lengthy bit of research, we opted for the latter, using Google Maps to make sure all the roads on our revised route were paved. All in all we lost about 4 miles; not too bad.

After that the ride was pretty pleasant. We got a nice tour of Elberton, which as it turns out is the self-proclaimed Granite Capital of the World. We passed literally dozens of granite headstone companies. Apparently Elberton is a good place to die and be buried.

A roadside rest stop with a front row seat

Part of our route took us through the ultra-cool Watson Mill State Park whose centerpiece is a covered bridge over a dammed-up creek.

Into the Abyss

We arrived in Athens about 2 PM after 79 miles. The extra recovery time will be most welcome. Our motels are trending up: this one has Wi-Fi, free breakfast (including, thank God, REAL COFFEE), and yes, even shampoo.

Athens is home to the University of Georgia. So after cleaning up we walked downtown and checked out the UGA campus. At the stadium, Tom -- who is a Florida alum -- tried to get a picture doing the Gator chomp at the site of the archrival Dawgs. Just as we were about to take the photo, a guard came running up waving his arms, saying "no pictures!" It turns out the football team was on the field practicing and they did not want anyone learning their secrets. Sheesh.

The chapel at UGA

We found a pub with non-functional A/C and had a beer, then found a barbecue place with non-functional A/C and had some food.

Finally, I am hoping all you readers back in Houston are safe from Harvey (Tim: you will never live this down!) and that y'all "weather the storm" so to speak.

Georgia on Our Mind

We discovered that Denmark South Carolina is a very cosmopolitan place, with the hotel owners being Indian and the owners of the one and only non-fast-food restaurant in town being Chinese. So it was hot and sour soup and Kung Po Chicken for us. Fortunately the portions were huge and we left more than full.

We had breakfast in our room and rolled out just after 7. The ride was long and hot, and got progressively hillier. We also had to do a bit of improv on our route since RideWithGPS will happily route you onto dirt roads. Overall the parcours was quite agreeable: good roads, quite scenic, and quieter than yesterday.

In Augusta we crossed the Savannah River and with it our first state line, from South Carolina into Georgia. Yay!

We had planned to stop in Augusta for lunch but there seemed to be no suitiable options on our route. Finally as things were getting more sparse we saw a gentleman getting his mail. I stopped and asked where we might be able to get a sandwich. He smiled and said "Calvins!" and pointed literally right next door. It turns out Calvins is this cute little cafe that serves comfort food. Calvin himself came by and made sure everything was agreeable, which it certainly was. He and the waitstaff were very interested in our adventure and insisted on posing for pictures with us. I think he is interested in marketing to the cross-country cycling crowd. I think that might be a flawed strategy.

Calvin and two happy customers

Augusta National Golf Club, home of the Masters Tournament, lies right along the route out of Augusta. We thought it would be good to get some pictures. But all we could see were big green gates with what appeared to be money trees beyond.

We finally rolled in Lincolnton about 4 PM after 99 miles and about 4700 feet of climbing. Tonight's hotel is a step up from the one in Denmark, but still no shampoo. So we are 0/2 in that category.

All in all it was a good day, but needless to say we are pretty beat. The hills and the heat were taking a toll on me by the end.

This was in direct sun... but so were we much of the time

Le Grand Depart: Welcome to Denmark

Yesterday we took the ferry out to Fort Sumpter, the site of the first shots in the civil war, and helped the Rangers raise the American flag (no, not that other one, although there are still plenty of those in evidence). The fort was interesting and serves to reinforce how complicated the history of this area is, as shown by the fact that there are still repercussions today. Not to trivialize the current issues in any way, but I also could not help thinking about how serious and deep the divide was at that time in comparision. It makes me optimistic that having made it through that, the nation should be able to weather the current storm.

After that we drove out to Sullivan's Island and posed ourselves for the ceremonial Atlantic wheel dip. The Pacific seems far away but I think I'd rather ride than swim.

No salt water in the drivetrain please

After a great dinner and a good night's sleep it was time for the grand departure. We kissed our wives and we were off just before 8AM.

The first challenge was the bridge on US17 over the Ashley River. It's a fairly busy road so we elected to use the narrow sidewalk rather than the lane. Just as I was crossing the center steel drawbridge section, I heard something fall off and hit the road. Sure enough my taill light had popped off an was lying in the middle of US 17 dutifully flashing away.

After a successful recovery we continued on SC 61 north. The route had heavy traffic until we got to Summerville, then thinned out into a nice country road. As we crossed I-95 I realized that I had been in that spot a few times in my life, on road trips from New York to Florida. Never would I have imagined that someday I would be riding over the interstate on a trip like this.

The rest of the ride was uneventful. It got pretty hot after about noon. (A quick check says it's currently 95. As I write this I'm sitting as close as possible to the air conditioner, which is struggling to keep up.)

Finally we arrived in the little village of Denmark. Our motel, the Carolina Lodge, is, let's say... "Quaint?" "Eclectic?" They don't have shampoo (and we are not carrying it) but they do have Wi-Fi.

Checking for Bedbugs

Another cyclist from Denmark

84 miles today; 99 tomorrow to Lincolnton, just past Augusta. It's supposed to be hot again so it will be a tough day.

Thanks for reading!

Eclipsed!

The forecast went from "mostly sunny" to "partly sunny" to "overcast". When we awoke and looked out the window, there were blue patches here and there but mostly gray. So we were not optimistic.

Undeterred, we headed for a park on the Ashley River across the bridge from our hotel. The Uber driver was nice enough to stop at the marina gas station and let us pick up some sandwiches, a six pack, and a bottle of wine. At the park there were families sharing picnics, photo buffs with telescopes, and people just hanging out. Everyone was happy and unfazed by the seemingly poor viewing.

All of a sudden the sky brightened and people began cheering. We whipped on our official eclipse glasses and looked up. Lo and behold, we could clearly see the moon's disc obscuring about half the sun. Cool!

As it progressed, we could see the moon steadily advancing. It started to get darker. With about 5 minutes to go the sun was just a sliver in the sky but it was still farily light. Then, at 2:46, boom, the sun was gone and the lights went out. We could just barely get a glimpse of the corona peeking through the thin clouds. We all sat in reverent silence.

Then, about 90 seconds later, a spark. Then a bright flash. And then, just like that, it was light again. It was like a giant dimmer being turned up, compressing an hour of morning dawn into about 15 seconds. For me, that re-emergence was one of the most impressive and powerful moments.

All in all we got lucky to see any of it. About 15 minutes later a big cloud moved in and obscured everything.

We played with trying to get some pictures. But this is something that really needs to be experenced in person.

It's Going to Be a Long Walk

We landed in Charleston after a smooth and uneventful flight. At baggage claim Tom went to ask where the bikes would come out. The nice lady from Southwest said "I think he is bringing it up now." Wait, did she say "it?" Shouldn't that be "them?" Sure enough, no Firefly. So here I am in Charleston ready to start my cross-country bike ride, with no bike!

It's sliver and has two wheels

The lady assured me that it would be on the next flight, or maybe the next one after that, or blah blah. I'm sure it will get here sooner or later, but in the meantime it's a little unnerving, as if I need another thing to be nervous about. On the other hand maybe a little distraction is a good thing. Lisa is suggesting a Bloody Mary. I always knew she was a smart girl.

Maybe I can ride one of these instead

Update: after spending the night who knows where, my bike arrived here this morning safe and sound. Well, there goes that excuse!

A happy ending