Left Pulaski heading down RT. 31 towards Ardmore and RT. 53 South. Just past Ardmore I entered Alabama. I think someone’s following me. All day whenever I looked in my mirror a bicycle was behind me. Hey, I’m not alone anymore, my cousin joined me this morning. For the folks back home who are interested in genealogy let me introduce you to velchkun crisht’s Sam’s Marv. For a lot of folks that means nothing but for others they now know exactly where Marvin Miller fits into the picture. It was a hot and muggy day. It wasn’t the biggest mileage day at 54 miles but we did get through Huntsville and that is always a relief to get a big town behind me. We travelled through some very busy streets to get through Huntsville. We are just south of Huntsville in an area called Hampton Cove on RT. 431. Just because I haven’t been complaining about my aching bacon doesn’t mean all is well in the nether regions. I walked down the street to Wal Mart tonight and bought the biggest softest bike seat they had. Tomorrow I will be riding a recliner on wheels. The plan now is to ride 431 down to Phenix City and enter Georgia there. That will bring us into Florida just east of Tallahassee. One church sign of note today, “Lost time is never found.”
Biking Through Day Fifty Four
Left Linden heading east on 412. Arrived in Hohenwald, Tenn. several hours later. Hohenwald was settled by German people and the name I believe translates to High Forest. I had been told that an Amish settlement was out on RT. 20 toward Summertown and sure enough as I’m travelling RT. 20 I hear the clip clop of an open buggy with an older Amish man and woman inside. I shouted out in Pennsylvania Dutch “How are you?” They were astounded to hear that from a strange biker. There are nine families in the Summertown area and they knew I didn’t belong to any of them. Several miles later I stopped at the Yoder Homestead Market for lunch. Young Rebecca Yoder was working the store and I again surprised her with my Pennsylvania Dutch. Her dad was from Lancaster, Pa. and her mother from somewhere in Iowa. They had lots of varieties of cheeses and meats delivered there by Troyer Foods which is located about one mile from my house in Berlin, Ohio. Don’t tell our Amish brothers and sisters in Holmes County this, but they are allowed to have electricity in the Amish community in Summertown, Tenn. Young Rebecca said it best. She said, it just doesn’t make sense not to. I talked to a local at a gas station and he told about one Amish man who took his tractor and put a pickup transmission and drive train in his tractor. He could zip around the community at 45 MPH. The cops stopped him and sited him for not having a seat belt. I pedaled down 43 south to Lawrenceburg, Tenn. and met numerous buggies. These were what we call the Swartzentruber Amish. Definitely no electricity there. At Lawrenceburg I took RT. 64 east to my destination for the day at Pulaski, Tenn. Many more church signs today but here are perhaps two of the best ones yet. Both from Baptist churches. The first one, God likes people, He sent His Son to be one. Here is perhaps the best one I have ever seen. This is from the Baptist church on RT 20 leaving Hohenwald. Win a new House. Free chances at every service. My cousin is arriving here from Sarasota late tonight so tomorrow when I arrive in Alabama it will be a party of two.
Biking Through Day Fifty Three
This morning I was pedaling through downtown Paris. it was before 7AM. A man was in front of the courthouse raising the American flag. He was holding his hat in his hand in reverence as he raised the flag. It did my heart good to see this quiet act of patriotism. There is a lot wrong in this country but there is also so much good. I have travelled on my bike close to 4,000 miles and I have been free to go most anywhere. No cop had stopped me and questioned what I was doing. I park my bike unattended anywhere I wish. No one has bothered it. The majority of Americans are just good decent people. This feeling of love, joy, peace, and goodwill to all was tested quickly. I was close to Camden, Tennessee when I passed a lady in the opposite lane struggling to change a flat tire. I crossed the road and helped her change the tire. She handed me a $20.00 bill. I refused it and told her I just wanted to help. She insisted I take it and said I was the only person who stopped and offered help. Joe, the homeless man on the interstate said he thinks people are becoming afraid of each other. That is so sad when such a small minority of bad peope can scare the masses away from giving a helping hand when needed. I forget more stuff than I remember. Sunday I crossed over two large bridges in succession when I crossed over the Mississippi and the Ohio Rivers. Today while heading east from Parsons to Linden on 412 I crossed over the Tennessee River. I pedaled 72 miles today my route was 641 south out of Paris, 68 south after crossing I40, then 412 east to Linden, Tenessee where I am staying tonight. Paris has the largest fish fry in the world, Camden is where Patsy Cline died in a plane crash, yesterday outside of Murray I supposedly passed the largest roller skate place in the universe. Just a few tidbits from the road. Several church signs today, “The hardest thing for God to open is a closed mind.” Here’s another, “Children will not listen to your advise and ignore your example.” And another, “Our church is prayer conditioned.” I passed a lot of churches today and yesterday. I passed a church called Chalk Level Baptist church today. That’s interesting because our pastor has a plumb bob hanging from our church sanctuary ceiling. Here is one from yesterday “The temperature in Hell never changes.” I must be going through the Bible belt. You would think with all the churches everywhere people would be swarming all over that ladies car helping change that tire. Just something to think about.
Biking Through Day Fifty Two
Biked under cloud cover all day. It rained on me twice but not enough to put on rain gear. I quickly dried out. I have been so fortunate with weather, unlike on the trail where I was sprouting mushrooms from all the moisture. The wind finally changed direction today. It was blowing out of the south. Unfortunately I also changed direction and was peddling south, go figure. Peddled through Benton today. I felt right at home since my hometown growing up was Benton, Ohio. However I was in Kentucky. I was on RT.641 heading south. After Benton came Murray, Kentucky. I passed by Murray State University. I was at 50 miles and contemplated stopping early. It was only two o’clock and only 22 miles to Paris, Tenn. so I peddled on. At around four PM the Tennessee state line appeared. Tennessee, Alabama, and Florida. It’s almost seeming possible to pull this off. Yesterday when I blessed the homeless man with a small monetary donation I had no inkling how God would bless me back. I was already quite blessed just to be able to give him something. Well, we should never underestimate God. I had already had a good road side money scavenging day with close to 50 cents pocketed today. Near the end of the day on the shoulder lay a silver money clip. it had been driven over numerous times and was a little dusty. It had some dollar bills tightly wrapped and I stuck it in my pocket thinking I was about three dollars richer. The clip itself is solid silver. Later in my room I remembered the money clip in my pocket. I was right. It had three dollars wrapped tightly over much more. No clue as to who the owner was, however there are names written on the money. Franklin’s the name. If anyone sees Ben Franklin I have his money and clip. Hmm, now I’m afraid to leave my bike unattended. In several days my cousin will join me in the Huntsville, Alabama area. That will sure be different to be biking with someone. We had many adventures together when we were growing up. We rode bike together as teenagers, then we both got married, went our separate ways seeking fame and fortune. Fame and fortune never quite caught up with us so we will just go back to riding bicycle again. Just two old men on bikes.
Biking Through Day Fifty One
This morning while peddling up the I55 ramp I met a man sitting on the berm trying to hitch hike. Yes, I know I’m not supposed to be on an interstate highway. I only rode One mile on I55 then switched to I57 heading north toward Chicago. I was on that interstate for 12 miles before exiting on Rt. 62 headed for Charlestown, Missouri. The interstates certainly have nice shoulders to ride on. Anyway, back to the hitch hiker. I stopped and told him I would gladly give him a ride if I had room. He had lost his job and was hitchhiking down to Louisiana to try to get work cleaning up beaches from the oil spill. He had spent 12 years in prison for selling drugs. His wife left him because of the drugs and his son had committed suicide a year earlier. I told him about my bike trip and how God was putting people in my path to talk to. You are one of them, I added. With tears in his eyes he exclaimed, you’re riding your bike across America and you have such joy on your face. My joy comes from God, I replied. That is the source for real joy. He pulled out a plastic bag from his backpack and showed me a book of poetry he had written. He also had a small artist book that he drew in. At night while I’m resting under bridges I write poetry about my life and draw. I will write a poem about meeting you today, he said. I gave him my address and told him to send me some of his poetry. We often take for granted our jobs and stable home lives, but there are many people across America who are desperately seeking jobs and a place to live. I am in Paducah, Kentucky tonight having peddled 63 miles today. Twenty miles outside Paducah on small county road 1290 in the middle of corn and soybean fields I had an appointment. I met two people who had peddled out to escort me into Paducah since Rt. 60 had completely lost its shoulders. This meeting and how it came to pass will be a story I will tell in the coming days. It is such an incredible happening that I am still trying to fully comprehend it myself. Lets just say for now that God works in mysterious ways his wonders to preform. God made a promise to me one day on the Appalacian Trail that led to Paducah, Kentucky.
Biking Through Day Fifty
Another hot day in Missouri. Mid 90’s, but hardly any wind. Passed through towns Poplar Bluff and Dixon before arriving in Sikeston, Missouri 98 miles from Van Buren. I shouldn’t be surprised how God looks out for me but I still have to shake my head in wonderment sometimes. I was heading for Sikeston and Lamberts Restaurant. I thought Rt.60 would take me past it. About 15 miles from Sikeston I met an old man biking toward me on the wrong side of the road. He informed me he hadn’t ridden his bike in quite some time. He also couldn’t see well or hear well, two characteristics that enhance the biking experience. But he had lived here all his life and knew directions. He informed me to go north one mile at the first Sikeston exit and look for Malone street. Take a right and you will go right past Lamberts, he said. You will also be on RT. 62 which is the road I wanted to head to Paducah in the morning. Everything was just as he said and I checked in a motel and walked to the restaurant. For those who have not heard about it this is the place where they throw hot dinner rolls across the room. A young man roamed the restaurant yelling “Hot rolls” if you raised your hand a roll would come flying your way. He was deadly accurate with his throws. The food was really good, plus several workers walked around with large bowls of fried okra, fried potatoes, macaroni and other side dishes. With the unique decor, flying dinner rolls, and all the extra food it was a good experience. It is good to know there are still places not totally governed by stringent portion control or run by a computer system that records every time the manager burps. This is even hard for me to believe but tomorrow I will be in Paducah, Kentucky. I tossed plan A out the window and am going with a plan B. I had planned to go to Owensboro and have Ina come out and meet my friend Padre in Mt. Vernon, Indiana. I realized that I could save several days by heading south in Paducah rather than riding all the way to Owensboro. I have about 65-70 miles into Paducah tomorrow, then Monday morning I will head south into Tennessee and hope to be in Alabama by middle to end of next week. Somewhere in those hills my cousin Marvin Miller will be joining me. Hey Marv, if you’re reading this don’t go to Owensboro as planned. Tonight I am staying in Sikeston at the Rt 62 Interstate 55 exchange. I tried calling my pastor Don Hamsher tonight to see if he needed any help with tomorrows sermon. When he moved to Sugarcreek from Johnstown, Pa. he must have left his old cell number behind. I bet that Dave guy in Pennsylvania wishes he would have recieved a number from someone other than a preacher man. Everyone have a blessed Sunday. Donnie, send me the right phone number.
Biking Through Day Fourty Nine
Nice job Jason on the new web site. It almost looks like you know what you’re doing. Stopped at Schrocks Restaurant this morning in Mountain Grove. I needed two things, food and information. There was one table where four of the local intelligentsia were meeting. They introduced themselves as a carpenter, a state representative, a banker, and a half-wit. The half-wit supposedly plants trees and bushes. I sort of suspect the half-wit really was the wealthiest man in town. I needed to plan my miles for the day and see where motels were along the way. Based on there advise I choose Van Buren {population 802} as my destination. It was a gorgeous day in Missouri, sure that wind was still in my face, but not as much and blowing from the south east. I am in the Ozark Mountains and it is getting quite hilly. I had one downhill of a mile and a half this afternoon. It had been a while since I could enjoy that kind of downhill. In Winona, Missouri I stopped for a beverage. I was at mile # 60 for the day and needed a pick me up. The drink of choice for that occasion is Mountain Dew. A man in line to pay and I started a conversation. He was also going to Van Buren tonight with a group of people to eat at a local restaurant called the Float Station. I checked in at the Hawthorne Hotel a throwback to the 1950’s style u-shaped ranch motel. Four blocks down main street was the Float Station. The seafood buffet was delicious as advertised. The owner said Dave, the gentleman from Winona had been in with friends and told her to look out for a biker. We chatted about restaurant business, she offered me a job, {needed a cook, rejected offer} When I told my server I was peddling to Key West she said her boyfriends dad had just passed away in Key West. He was only 49 and had cancer. He was a scientist building artificial reefs in Key West. His funeral had been last Friday. I told her about my journey on the Appalachian Trail and the book I wrote about the healing I found walking with God for several thousand miles. While walking back to my room I passed the local ice cream shop, Jolly Cones. The sign on RT.60 said, “Kids, scream till dad stops at Jolly Cone.” About 50 of the locals were sitting out front under the attached porch visiting and enjoying the treats. Just a Friday night in small town America. Made possible for me because I took the time to get advise. How often in life do we flounder about not sure about some decision or direction to take because we don’t avail ourselves of the knowledge of folks all about us. I will be the first one to plead guilty there. Van Buren has one of the worlds largest free flowing springs. It is aptly names the “Big Spring.” It spews 286 million gallons of fresh water a day. It’s flow has been measured as high as 1.3 billion gallons a day. it flows into a local river called the Current River, then on to the Black River then finally to the Mississippi River. I wonder if Las Vegas knows about that gusher. They are trying to run a pipe line to that little town called Baker to get 16 billion gallons a year. This spring scoffs at that small amount. One last word on all the dead Armadillos. This is not real pleasant but I am living on Americas shoulder and there is a lot of roadkill out there. Most roadkill maintains some form or shape of its former self. Not the Armadillo. It is just smashed flat. I fear it may be a sport here in Missouri to hit the armored one. Many lie crushed way in on the shoulder. Imagine a Taco Bell taco, the hard dry ones. Now visualise about six of them side by side run over by a truck. That’s the end result of all the dead Tacodillos I’m seeing. May I take your order sir? Yes, give me two tacodillos and a beef burrito. I ended up biking 82 miles today. I earned everyone. They don’t come easy in Missouri. Dave offered to tow me up and over some of these hills. I wonder if I could allow that? Nah, I didn’t think so.
Biking Through Days 47 & 48
Last night in Springfield the wireless Internet wasn’t working so I will lump the last two days together. Shortly after leaving Pittsburg, Kansas Wednesday I arrived in Missouri. I realized right away that the headwind I was blaming on Kansas was coming out of Missouri. Passed many large corn and soybean fields in the morning. Farmers are out chopping up corn. Ate lunch in Golden City at Cookies Cafe, known far and wide for there pies. Peddled through Greenfield and Ash Grove on Rt 160 before arriving in Springfield at 7PM. It was a 95 mile day. The terrain is starting to become more rolling. Several actual hills were encountered today. This morning I spent the first hour on the outer belt in the morning rush hour trying to exit Springfield. The weather forecast was for 10MPH winds out of the north east again. It was a beautiful day otherwise. All day the roadside flowers and weeds bowed there heads in my direction. I would prefer of course to see the back side of there heads. I could never get into any rhythm today. Sometimes 6MPH then 10MPH then 8MPH. I ended up doing 75 hard miles and am at Schrocks restaurant and motel in Mountain Grove at the intersection of Rts. 60 & 95. For a while today I felt right at home. Several miles north of my home town is Mt. Hope, Ohio. The roads there are worn down with horses hooves from the Amish buggies coming to town. I was riding through Seymour, Missouri when I realized the similarities of the roads. There were differences too, 4 lanes of traffic, a train on my right with 5 locomotives 2 pulling 3 pushing 135 loaded coal cars. Yes, I did count them. The shoulder I was riding on had tire tracks, a trough cut by horses hooves, and best of all the horses exhaust pipe residue. There were farms scattered around but I never saw any Amish. I probably could have snagged an invitation to stay if I would have met someone. I suppose if I want to see more, I’ll need to return with my car. Passed a Baptist church in Cedar Gap with a sign board that read, God expects “spiritual fruits” not “religious nuts.” I had never see an Armadillo outside of a zoo before. I still haven’t seen a live one. I have seen over 100 dead ones in the last several days. There are squashed dillos all over the place. If they think there armor is going to protect them they are sadly mistaken. Am starting to see some really big hills. The 32MPH variety. One thind that I’ve discovered is that while seeing America on a bicycle is great, you will get too much of everything, mountains,deserts, heat, wind, flat, you will tire of them all at some point. The only things I haven’t tired of yet are the people I meet. Oh yes, haven’t tired of Coke and Chocolate either.
Biking Through Lamentations Two
I can see why Dorothy’s house blew away. From the moment I left Eureka the battle with the elements started. In the west an ominous dark cloud. From the northeast a nasty wind. Fortunately I had left my wind plow on my bicycle and started pushing the wind. Way out in the east I saw a small clearing in the clouds and headed for it. Rain drops hit me as I tried to stay ahead of the main storm. For twenty miles I pushed back the wind but did manage to outdistance the rain. I stopped at the Lizard Lips Grill and store for a beverage before turning south for several miles. This was not as windy but it allowed the rain to catch up with me. Met several bikers on this road. One was on a ride healing from the death of his girlfriend less than a year ago. I had two God connections that I know of today. After passing through Coyville on Rt. 105 the rain caught up with me again. It wasn’t a downpour, just a light rain. It was OK since I was in a wash and dry cycle at the same time. In the town of Chanute I stopped for lunch and contemplated a decision. I had pushed 60 miles of wind and could find a motel in this town. The other option was to push on for Girard, Kansas another 50 miles away. I decided it was a little to early to quit and pushed on. It was slow and laborious going. Fortunately God gave me a high level of tolerance for misery. I would need every level today. Finally at 8PM I arrived in Girard, Kansas my goal for today. It was getting dark but Girard had no motels. Pittsburg, Kansas was another 15 miles farther. I had no choice but to go to Pittsburg. Soon it was completly dark except several times the moon peaked out from behind clouds. That was one good thing about today, clouds. No sun or heat to contend with. All of a sudden the road conditions changed drastically. The highway dept was getting Rt. 47 ready for paving and had cut grooves in the road. The bicycle shook and rattled so much I was afraid the tires would blow out. For the next 4 miles I pushed the bike in darkness as vehicles blew past me raising a cloud of dust. A man in a truck came out of the darkness and asked if I needed any help. I explained why I was pushing the bike and asked him how far I was from Rt 126 which would take me to Pittsburg. Rt 126 is no where near here, he replied. Coming through Girard I had taken the wrong road and was heading for Nebraska or Iowa. He offered to take me to Pittsburg {oh how tempting} but I explained that I couldn’t except a ride. He gave me directions for Pittsburg and a while later I was on Rt 69 heading south to town. If God didn’t sent that man to me I would be doing loop-d-loops around the Kansas country side. The state of Kansas has a lot of resources, but none more valuable than its people. The folks in Kansas are more friendly to bikers than any other state. Several stores have autograph book they want bikers to sign. I have had clerks offer to fill my water bottle with ice. Having said that, it’s time to move on to Missouri tomorrow. I have been in labor pains for the last two days, it’s time for Kansas to let me leave without blowing me back to Colorado. Yes it was a battle with the elements but in the end I biked 124 miles in 15 hours. Oh, I almost forgot. Leaving Chanute in mid afternoon I spotted a two litre bottle of sprite laying by the roadside. It was almost full and reminded me of the day I drank that diet coke from a roadside ditch while hiking the Appalachian Trail. For old times sake I thought, why not. I unscrewed it and it fizzed real good. It sound fresh, smells OK, a little taste seemed OK. I took a long delightful drink from that roadside oasis and returned it to its resting place on the road side. Probably had fallen of a truck. Well, that was day 46 of biking across America. Not the best of days but I survived it and will give it another go tomorrow.
Biking Through Day Fourty Five
Had a great breakfast and met with the crew from Pleasantview Home Improvement. A good group of people and a good discussion. Ivan brought me back to Newton and I continued by peddling where I left off Saturday. I am fortunate that I was rested, hydrated and full of calories. The wind was not my friend today. What should have taken about 6 hours took about 10 hours. I was pushing against the wind all day. I think it was a lot like giving birth {sorry moms} I took Lamaze classes with my wife when she was pregnant and that was how I was breathing today. I think Kansas doesn’t want me to leave. I did manage to squeeze out 74 hard miles. I’m in Eureka, Kansas. I am one long day from the Missouri border. I was told last night that the section I was biking through today was so remote God didn’t even know it existed. The first 38 miles were a straight line out to Cassody, Kansas. It had a number of churches so I knew that couldn’t be true. However the next 36 miles were a different story. A very remote area, at least till I reached SR 54. I’m sure God know it’s there, but it’s not a high priority. There were some horses and a few oil pumpers nodded there heads at me. Early in the day I passed many large farms and corn fields. The corn is already quite dry and the ears are starting to droop downward. I really had to watch what I said today, there were ears everywhere. The terrain is starting to become more rolling. I actually biked over several real hills today. If Kansas had less wind, more trees, less heat, a few more hills it would be a nice place to live. Of course then it would also be Ohio.