Boone, NC

I haven't ridden my bike in ten days.  Strangely enough, it doesn't feel that weird.  However, my bicycle does look all lonely by itself behind the table in the corner of the room.  It's odd looking at that small, simple, green contraption and realizing that it took me all the way across the country, 4500 miles zigzagging across the United States starting at sea level, going over mountain ranges, across barren windy plains, through farmlands, deserts, and all kinds of weather, back down to sea level and then backtracking to my current location in Boone, NC. wow.  That is one hell of a bicycle.

Hendersonville, North Carolina

Surreal

A couple days ago in Demascus, Virginia I met up with the Jones brothers again. Dave and Neale and I first ran into eachother in Twin Bridges, Montana.  We rode together for a few days drafting off of each other pushing through forty mile/hour winds, getting drenched and tossed around through a random microburst, winding our way through the gorgeous Yellowstone mountains, and soaking in the Boiling river.  We parted ways in Mammoth, Yellowstone.  Dave and Neale headed East toward the black hills and I headed South toward the Tetons, all going towards North Carolina.  Biking through Virginia I kind of played phone tag with them, then a day or so before we met up, we realized we would both be going through Damascus very soon.  We got to Damascus within five minutes of eachother and rode down to Boone, NC together passing through three states in less than than a day.  We stayed with my friends in Boone.  The Jones brothers took off the next morning to Hendersonville where they have family and I stayed in Boone a couple more nights.  It felt so amazing to hang out in one place for a couple days.  Then I rode the Blue Ridge parkway, following the Jones Brothers to Hendersonville where we will now ride to the South Carolina coast together.  Three more nights on the road.

More On Random Thoughts

I was logged out of my computer.

Road kill here seems to be messier than other states I have been through.  Heads are smashed, intestines wind down the road, and sometimes it looks like a turkey dinner just pulled out of the oven.  Gruesome.  I know. 
I think the caterpillars here are slower than in Kansas.  I wondered all through Kansas why it was that I never saw any roadkill caterpillars, as many as there where wiggling(very speedily) along the roads.  It was always dead grasshoppers.  I thought they might just be sticking to the wheels of cars, but there are a lot of roadkill pillars in Kentucky, and they are definitely slower moving than the ones in Kansas.

What is with the mile markers here.  I swear that my first two days in Kentucky I only saw mile post markers one through four.  Now I'm pretty sure they at least go up to eleven.  Or maybe it was fourteen.

This is my fourth day in Kentucky.  So far the people here have been incredibly kind and generous.  I have had people pay for my food three separate times, offer me directions when I simply "look" lost, and offer me and tell me about places I can stay nearby. 
The dogs however, are a little less friendly, although, none so far have been a real serious threat.  It's more of a "grrr, bark bark, I'm scary" and some bouncing around the handle bars.  I still have a dog whacking bar that I attached to my bicycle just in case.  It makes me feel safer.

Day light hours are an issue.  I wish there were more.

Random Thoughts

I am in Berea, Kentucky right now.  Approximately 700 miles to the the Virginia coast, via adventure cycling maps.  I'm am finding myself wanting to prolong the trip, and yet I am also very excited to reach my destination.  It's right there!  I could easily get there in eight days.  The adventure cycling maps are also seeming to become much less direct with lots of turning on random roads, which makes me want to take different, more direct routes with less confusing directions.  But like I said, I also find myself wanting to prolong this bicycling adventure. :)

Fall is most definitely here.  And Absolutely gorgeous.

No One Talks About Missouri

Everyone talks about how windy and flat Kansas is, how the dogs in Kentucky chase cyclists, and how gorgeous the mountains in Colorado are, but no one talks about Missouri.  No one tells you that there are also vicious, cyclist chasing dogs in Missouri, or that oncoming traffic will give you the finger for no reason, or even that you will most likely be ridiculed and possibly asked "what age are you living in?" by a passing jeep full of yelling teenagers. You do briefly hear about the beautiful, roller coaster-like hills of the Ozarks, but that makes them sound fun and easy, not like the difficult, narrow, neverending, very steep ups and downs that they are.  Gorgeous, yes, but not a place I will ever cyle through again.
Fortunately, I was lucky enough to have some amazing company through this not so amazing state.  Three awesome, independant, solo cyclists happened to meet up just before their trek through Missouri.  Those cyclists would be myself, Michelle, and Charles. We had a blast, laughed alot, skinny dipped in a random lake, saved Urtle the turtle from a dog and rode with it on the back of Michelle's bike for a couple days, busted out hundred mile days, ran over a dog, and rode off and on with Megan, another solo cyclist we met in Missouri. Megan happened to ride up on me while I was talking to the cows.  Scared the shit outta me.
The unfortunate thing about awesome, independant people is just that.  They are awesome, and independant.  Our group has disbanded.  All starting from different places, and continuing on to different places. 
And the adventure continues.

Yup, the water proof spray works

I spent two nights at the Zion Lutheran Church/bicyclist hostel in Hutchinson, KS.  Showers, bathroom, kitchen, good company(not very much sleep) a bed.  It was great. I ate homemade mac n' cheese, and pancakes, and made chocolate chip cookies.  Yess.  And to think I almost up and left that town right after the bike shop stop.  45 dollar handle grips, a tire, a tube, a headset tightening, a rear derailer alignment, and a great time with Andrew.  Those grips better be worth it Andrew(my hands have been hurting a lot since I pulled that 130 mi day. I could barely unbuckle my packs.)
I biked 90 miles in the rain yesterday. The first real rain I've biked in.  It was exhilarating, gorgeous, and totally freeing.  The cool drops splattering on my warm, bare skin, running down my face, arms, and legs, and puddling in my shoes, cleansing body, mind, earth, and air.  Kansas looked beautiful.
I pulled into a closed campground next to a lake, slightly tilting my bike to fit under the metal gate.  It had only been slightly drizzling for the past hour or so, so I slipped into dry clothes: shorts and a t-shirt, it was warm.   Remembering that it could start raining at any minute, I finally started pulling my tent out.  It immediately started to pour.  I rushed to put down the tarp, lay the tent down, put together the poles and get the fly on before the puddles got to big.  I threw my stuff under the fly and climbed inside, stripped my now soaking clothes off, and started drying off the inside of my tent with a small, scraggly rag.  Wiping down and ringing out the rag I worked my way down to the lower end of the tent.  "Whoahoho. Whow.  That is... well, that is waterproof, that's for sure."
There was an enormous puddle of water in the lower end of my tent, and being a bathtub bottom tent that I recently re-waterproofed with that water proof spray, that water wasn't going anywhere. So I crouched, stark naked, soaking water up with my already wet clothes and wringing them just outside the tent under the rainfly as the rain poured down from the sky making little drumming noises on the tight fabric.  The geese honked overhead and the water of the lake lapped the shore, sometimes more vigorously than others making me peer out with my flashlight to make sure it wasn't going to start rising all of a sudden.
I cooked some dank Annie's mac n' cheese by reaching my hand underneath the rainfly and tending to it without getting wet, only pulling everthing inside when it was all done.  I inhaled the noodles, slurped down the extra water, all salty, garlicky, full of creamcheese, and tomato juices, yummm, and had the best night of sleep I have had in a while.

Road Kill State

Kansas is hands down the state with the most road kill, the most anti-abortion billboards, and the most people who wave at you from their cars while driving by.  You can also see your destination(typically a little clump of trees) fifteen miles before you get there, there are no bicycle shops, and the wind is always blowing.  Only 250 more miles to go, here I come Missouri.
One of the really neat things about Kansas is, because there are no campgrounds, cyclists are permitted to sleep in city parks.  All you do is give the sheriff a quick phone call and let him know your staying there.  However, the down side is, these parks often do not have bathrooms and, being little towns, sometimes businesses(or the business) have late opening and early closing hours.  So time things well. :)
I happened to be in one of these little tiny grocery stores the other day when a young, elevinish year old girl ran up to me and asked me if I was the biker.
"well. Yes. I am on a bicycle.?"
She asked me if I maybe wanted a warm meal, and a shower, and maybe to camp in her yard.  Now, being a dirty, stinky, salt covered, wind blasted cyclist lacking good, warm food, fruits and vegetables, I of course said I would love all of the above.  We walked outside, got my bicycle, met her mom, and walked to their house.  Her mom warned me that the girl's father didn't know yet that I had been invited over and that they would for sure feed me and let me shower but it wasn't guaranteed that I could stay the night.  The girl(Abigail) had spotted me and dashed off to invite me over before her mother had been able to say anything.  I did end up staying the night.  I was ogled and waited on by three little girls constantly inching closer to me as their father told story after story of God speaking to him and telling him of events to come, where his children were going to be born, or natural disasters that were going to hit.  Constantly traveling, kept away from pop culture and electronics of any sort, and being home schooled, these three girls couldn't wait to have my attention. We had a slumber party outside in their giant twelve by twelve tent they had set up just for me.  At four in the morning we hear "Abigail. Get everyone up. I've been up for hours and I've made a pepperoni and squash pizza for us all to eat. I'll be out with it in five minutes."
Abigail and I successfully wake one other girl up and we all sit in the tent together in the middle of the night eating home made pizza, and ice cream, and then crawl back into bed until morning.
The next morning when I left, all three girls grabbed their bicycles and pedaled the first mile with me giggling, babbling, and shrieking and finally waving goodbye.