Day 3--Sycamore to Parsons, KS

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Had a great night's sleep and awoke at 6 to pack up B.O.B. and drink a cup of coffee before Tom transported me to Sycamore north of Independence. Before we left, I got to give the dogs their morning treat: pieces of bologna hand-fed from a fork. The four gathered around me and were very well behaved, each waiting his or her turn for a bit of bologna. ( See below).


Feeding the Oast's dogs their morning treat.That's my helmet (left) on the counter.The circular orange thing on the back of the helmet is a reflector, blinking yellow light, and a "screecher," that I use to ward off unwanted dogs.

After feeding the dogs their treat, I had a glass of o.j. and then sat outside and enjoyed a piece of warm coffee cake. (I felt like a princess this whole impromptu visit.) Tom loaded the trailer and bike into his pickup. I took one last photo of Tom and Paula and their dogs, (below), and then we were off. Thank you Tom and Paula for your hospitality and your generosity! I really enjoyed my visit with you two and your four canine pals.


Tom and Paula with their sweet dogs

Tot

Tom asked if I'd like to take the paved or unpaved route. I chose the unpaved. In his big truck (see below), we might as well have been on a paved route. We saw a wild turkey and two deer in the fields on either side of  the road, as well as oil wells, Tom reminiscing: "Now that area over there was the first place I worked after graduation. I drill water wells too." Or explaining: "No they're not drilling a well but pulling one." 



Tom's Avalanche, obviously B.O.B.'s preferred mode of travel since Kathy had one, too.

We made a pit stop in the Independence Mickey D's, and then I was taken on a brief tour of this pretty Kansas town with its two-story,Victorian houses and old stone and brick downtown buildings. We even toured through Independence's small zoo which sits on the banks of the Verdigris River. We then took US 75 north to Sycamore and the intersection of old US 400, where, after a few photos taken with Tom's notebook, I headed east on very pretty but little traveled old two-lane US 400 (below). It somewhat parallels the new US 400 where all the traffic was. It was a bit chilly. A Parsons' bank read only 70F when I arrived at 11 a.m. The wind was strong out of the south.

Old US 400

Rode leisurely and without incident the few miles into Parsons (only 27, I think). I stopped at the first Subway I passed and used Joyce Meyer's Subway gift card to buy myself a turkey sandwich and a lemonade. Thank you Joyce!

hThen I rode to the Best Western on the east side of town, hoping to be able to get into my room early. That I did. The woman behind the front desk took one look me and handed me a bottle of ice water and a package of peanuts. Thank you Camille Stuart and Skip McFarling, my sister Sarah's friends who sprang for this room! The motel is lovely and my large ground-floor room fits me and my big rig comfortably.

What's wrong with this picture?

Yes. That puny orange thing on the end of the standard is what's wrong with this picture! Somewhere along old 400 my flag blew north. I remember seeing it before I crossed the first of two RR tracks. By the time I got to the second set of tracks miles later, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the pole but no flags. The whole lot on their sleeve had slipped up and away. Boo hoo! My flags flew proudly only 2.5 days, and this after Betsy Ross Walker spent so much time getting the JKH flag printed and sewn, ordering the state flags, and then sewing up the standard. Each day so far has had its own little excitement.

But, I felt naked with no flag, so after I stopped at Subway, I stopped at Orscheln's Farm & Home store (nearly next door to the Best Western) and bought the little flag I'm now flying. The store owner cut some sort of hardware off the end and then shaved the end until it would fit in B.O.B.'s standard holder. He was a big guy and rammed it in well, so I'm betting I have to find an equally big guy to pull it out when the time comes.

Had just stepped into my room when Tom called to ask if I'd gotten in safely. I told him I had and praised him for his route finding. The route he put me on was great. I also told him about losing my flags. A few moments later he called back. He'd called the sheriffs in the two counties I'd ridden through and they said they send someone out looking if they could. He gave them my cell number, but it is 5:30 now and I have heard nothing. The flags could have blown into a ditch or into the woods and not be visible from the road. Plus, I'm sure the sheriffs could have made better use of their time.

Below are a couple of pix of barns along today's route. Be sure to tune in tomorrow for my exciting ride from Parsons to Pittsburg, KS, only 39 miles I think.

Day 4--Parsons to Pittsburg, KS

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Today I sing ♪ Happy Birthday ♪♪  to Betty Bloodgood Secker,
Dean Bloodgood’s sister.

I was on shouldered roads for the entire route today. The beginning of US-400E has a shoulder as wide as a lane with a rumble strip at its edge. Cars and trucks were very polite, pulling over the center line to give me room. Since the center line was rumbled, I quickly learned to distinguish between the sounds of traffic on the center line and that on the shoulder rumble strips. Below is a pic of a new kind of rumble strip that I had not encountered before. Makes riding the shoulder interesting.

Grooved shoulder with deep grooves (rumble strips) extending all the way across the shoulder at 25-foot intervals. They obviously wanted to keep all traffic off the shoulder, but didn't take into consideration cyclists.

I left the Best Western in Parsons about 8:15 a.m. on a sunny but WINDY day. L. Frank Baum did not need a tornado to transport Dorothy to Oz. All he needed was ordinary Kansas wind. The wind was out of the south, which meant that I had a strong crosswind that required both hands on the handlebars until about 25 miles later when I turned north on US-7. For five miles I had a kicking tailwind! First time on the ride. Yahoo!

I did a small wash last night but forgot my gloves, so washed them in the sink this morning and Velcro-ed them to the spider bungee cord on my trailer to dry as I rode along. You guessed it. The left glove is probably already in Oz shaking hands with my flag. What will blow away next?

I stopped only four times for pix. A couple of barns, below, and one of the Neosho River as it flowed swiftly under the road. When I stopped on the bridge, two semis went roaring by and the bridge shook and flexed. You know me. I got off the bridge in a flash.

Neosho River as it flows under US-400 east of Parsons, Kansas 

Before I turned north, I stopped at a gas station/convenience store in Cherokee and enjoyed a couple of slices of pizza left over from last night's dinner, and an Orange Crush. Invigorated I sailed north on US-7, enjoying not having to hold the bike against the wind, and effortlessly pedaling along at over 20 mph. Below, the barn pix:

The drama for the day occurred as I was entering Pittsburg, still on a fast two-lane with shoulders. A pit bull and a dachshund ran out of a yard on my right. The pit bull meant business, and kept at me, slavering and growling even after I activated my screamer--the device on my helmet that emits an ear-splitting noise which usually deters dogs. Cars in both directions tried to get between me and the dogs. During this episode, I am yelling, "Call off your dogs! Call off your dogs!" Their owner was in his front yard. He did nothing. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and reason that he was both blind and deaf.

Some sort of accident must have taken place east of Pittsburg, because as I was entering town an ambulance came screeching toward me. A few minutes later another ambulance screeched by. This is a dangerous time for a cyclist because vehicle drivers are a little panicky and immediately pull off the road . . . onto the shoulder where I am. I was lucky the second time because a semi pulled onto the shoulder ahead of me but the one behind it could not pull over without forcing me off the shoulder, so just stopped in the road.

I'm at a Super 8 and may be here tomorrow too because a storm is expected this evening and early tomorrow morning. If I have to spend another day here, I'll have to sacrifice my rest day in Clinton, MO, to remain on schedule.

Arrived at the Super 8 super early so spent a leisurely afternoon in Home Depot (across the street), other nearby stores, and Dollar Tree--buying a microwave bowl so that I can use motel microwaves to cook some of my "add water" meals.

Thank you Shannon B. Frohock for your donation!

Day 5--Pittsburg, KS to Nevada, MO

Friday, April 20, 2012

Got an e-mail from Frank Briscoe, my Warm Showers host for tomorrow tonight. I must reproduce part of Frank's email here. Once again I am being treated like a princess.

     My plan at this time will be to either ride down and meet you part way or drive my mini-van, if it's raining, to be your SAG.
     Which would you prefer for dinner? Option #1: Drunken chicken on the grill, with potato salad and pasta salad for sides. Option #2: Pasta with a marinara sauce with ground Italian sausage, salad and garlic bread. We have a gal friend joining us, who will bring desert. We're planning on having dinner about 6:30-7:00. Do you have a favorite beverage? We have tea both hot and iced, diet coke, beer, wine and assorted spirits if you prefer?
     Is there anything you are in need of that I can get and have for you?
     Safe riding!
Frank

I had a waffle and o.j. for breakfast and then packed up and headed out about 8:15 a.m. to try to beat the storms predicted for that morning. Of course, the wind had shifted from the south to the northeast . . . and my route today is, you guessed it, northeast--69 to 160E to 43N to Nevada, MO. That's pronounced Ne-vay-da, emphasis on the "a." It was chilly, in the 50s I think, and grey and overcast. I put all gear inside B.O.B's. bag, leaving out only my lunchbox and my O2 raincoat, which I have not field tested yet. Wanted to keep it dry and could not afford to have more of my gear blowing away.

The route was gentle, and despite gusts, I motored along enjoying the ride. Got to the Kansas/Missouri border in no time and stopped to take the pix below. As soon as I crossed into Missouri my great, wide, paved shoulder was replaced by a gravel shoulder. The wind, coupled with my proximity to oncoming semi's, caused me to have to stop while they blew by. Their drafts and the north wind were strong enough to blow me onto the south shoulder.

As I was rounding a wide curve on gravel-shouldered MO-160, Frank called. I joked with him about the wind and told him where I was on the route before I realized that it wasn't Frank I was speaking to but Crankers Cycling in Lima, OH, offering me a room for the night of May 5th and a bike check and tune-up. (Sister Sarah had sent flyers to all bicycle shops on or near my route.) It was too windy to hear, so I told Crankers thank-you and that I would call back this evening. (Never got a moment to call, so will call next Monday when the shop is open.)

I was almost to Hwy 43 N, when Frank appeared in his van. What a guy. Check out his blog site. In the summer of 2010 he took a 10-day cycling journey on his Surly along the Natchez Trace, and then in 2011 at age 65 rode a double-cross (bicycling cross country and back) for multiple sclerosis. I read two articles that had been published about these two rides. The article about the double-cross ends with a Mark Twain quotation that reflects my motivation to get on the bike and to travel and explore each year: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did.” I don't want to be disappointed. Want to do as much as I can while I can.

Only Frank and his wife, Vickie, were on tap this day to run their business: Frank's Center, Inc.,  specializing in the sale of  billiards equipment. Not wanting to keep him away from his work and not particularly interested in punching into a headwind for the next 26 miles, I not at all reluctantly, climbed into the van and was fast-forwarded to Frank's house. It's a good thing no one has donated Memory Miles on these days when I am sagged along part of my route. I would have to give refunds. Ha, ha. Just kidding.

Both Frank's house and business are enormous buildings (see below). When we got in, I met Vickie, dog Tigger, was shown to my room, showered (hardly necessary), threw in a load of wash, and changed into warm clothes. The temps have dropped 10 degrees since this morning, so it is now in the 40s.

The back of Frank and Vickie's house. To the left is a large in-ground pool and its changing house, which can just be seen to the right in the photo of Frank's Center, Inc. below

The exterior of the 10,000 square foot building that houses Frank's billiard business

After all that, I brought my little computer to the office building so that I could get on the Internet and write this blog. It wasn't even noon! Below is part of the Briscoe's office space and inventory storage area. Behind this room is an enormous racked warehouse and behind that an apartment. Vickie and Frank were in the office working hard, Miss Kitty, their grey cat, watching intently from the copy machine.

Front room of Frank's Center, Inc.

As you can see by the trophy wall, Frank is an avid hunter as well as cyclist. Vicky told me the story of how he got into this business: Frank had applied for but did not get a permit to hunt bear. Vickie's dad said: "Well you ought to go into the pool business because you can always shoot pool, but you can't always shoot bear." And that Frank did . . . go into the pool business that is. 

Before he left to get the three of us Subway sandwiches for lunch (my treat I insisted but Frank would have none of it), Frank told me about what he had planned for the evening. Coming to dinner were physicians Ted & Candice Moore, beginning cyclists who were going to enjoy a 10-day vacation by riding the length of the Katy Trail, staying in B & B's and enjoying the wineries and quaint towns along the way. Ted and Candice were bringing the appetizer: Bacon-wrapped venison tenderloin. Also at the table that evening would be Nancy Ross, also a cyclist, whose son and the Briscoe's son, Shawn, are best friends. Nancy was bringing dessert--strawberry shortcake.

After lunch, Frank printed off my Missouri cue sheets and then spent the remainder of the afternoon preparing tomorrow morning's breakfast casserole and this evening's dinner. While doing so, he explained to me once again how to cook Drunken chicken: "Start with a whole chicken, rub it with olive oil and seasonings of choice, and then sit the bird on the grill over an open can of beer. Close the grill lid. The beer steams into the chicken, making it tender and delicious." I was almost sorry I had chosen his second dinner option of pasta, despite having eaten chicken for dinner each evening but my pizza night.

Below are some pix of our dinner party:

Me, Ted, Candice, Frank, Vickie (Nancy taking the photo). Please note the amount of whipped cream on the shortcake. And I thought that the ride would help me lose weight. If this type of hospitality keeps up, I'll probably weigh MORE at the end of the ride than I did at the start.

Frank, Nancy, and Candice hamming it up with the many wine bottles that "somehow" appeared on the table

Me posing as a lush behind the wine bottles

After dinner we sat around telling stories and having fun. It was a great end to another day on the road.

Day 6--Nevada to Clinton, MO

Saturday, April 21, 2012



Slept like a log, but was up before 7 organizing my gear and repacking B.O.B. Frank was already in the kitchen baking the breakfast casserole and baking-powder biscuits. I'm definitely going to have to turn down these fast-forwards and cut back on my calorie intake or I'll soon look like a blimp.

Frank, Vickie, and I enjoyed a very nice breakfast and then I gathered my gear, my cell, and my water bottles out of the fridge, and loaded them into the van. Frank was going to fast-forward me again, this time north on US-71, a four-lane divided highway that has a shoulder but is being revamped to meet Interstate specs and will be an Interstate by next year. His fast-forward would cut my planned 74-mile day virtually in half. I arrived in Clinton with 37.07 miles on my odometer.

Me posing with roadside kitsch--a large morel mushroom alongside US-71 N

The drama for the day occurred when we got to MO-D. (Missouri has what I like to call Alphabet Soup county roads with letters rather than numbers.) There was a nice commuter parking lot, so we unloaded and hooked up the trailer. Frank wanted to take a photo of my departure, so I obliged and then started down the road. I didn't get 20 feet before I realized that I was riding with no gloves or helmet! It took me another two seconds to realize with a sinking feeling that I'd left them in my bedroom at the Briscoe's. DAY-M! What a fool I felt, especially since Vickie had reminded me to check one last time, which I did but missed the helmet which was on the floor and out of sight. A friend of mine once told me that all my grey cells had gone to my hair, and at times like this, I believe it.



Missouri's alphabet roads. I rode D for about 10 miles before turning on BB

Fortunately, Frank had not left the parking lot when I returned. He called Vickie and she met him half way with my helmet and gloves. While I was waiting for him to return, I reorganized my trailer and checked the bike. Good thing I did. The front wheel was not secure in the fork, the quick release open. I've not removed the front wheel since the ride began, so wonder how that happened. Probably in one of the many times it's been flung into the back of a pickup. When I am finished with this blog entry I plan to make myself a "before departure" checklist.

Frank in van returning with my helmet

Frank and Vickie Briscoe were the consummate hosts, providing SAG support, help with routes, a fantastic dinner with great guests, delicious food, even a pair of cycling socks. And a sense of humor and a lot of patience when ding-dong here forgot her helmet. Thank you both for a warm and wonderful stay! I will be sure to give you a high rating on the Warm Showers site.

The route today was gorgeous and so was the weather. I had a mild tailwind and motored along sometimes at over 24 mph, getting to Clinton at 2:10 p.m. Showered and cleaned up and then walked across the street to Walmart. Bought some snacks and items for dinner as well as a new bundle of white washcloths for my wrist mop. Thank you Red Dirt Pedalers for your Walmart gift card!

Today was the most comfortable, best day of riding so far. I think I'm getting some muscle, so the hills were no problem. The road was two-lane and very little traveled. There was a 4-mile section of MO-BB that was lumpy and rough, but all-in-all a great ride. I took my usual pix of barns. See below.

I am staying at the Parkfield Inn, manager Karen Duggins having graciously provided me with a complimentary room for two nights. Thank you Karen! The Inn is immaculate and the room a gem. Tomorrow I have a rest day but may keep the muscles in shape by riding to a nearby town with an odd name. Tune in tomorrow to find out the name of this mystery town.

Day 7--Clinton, MO, Rest Day

Sunday, April 22, 2012

It is very nice to have a rest day, particularly one on a quiet Sunday. Hard to believe that I've been on the road for a week.

I ate a leisurely breakfast and talked to the group who are here with their restored 1930s/40s cars. We talked about car models and I told them of my family's penchant for owning cars that became as extinct as dinosaurs: My grandmother owned a Studebaker and my father a Kaiser. No we did not own an Edsel. When I told them of my morning's plans, one of them told me I should try to stop in Peculiar, MO, too. I'll have to look at my route sheet to see if Peculiar is on or near it.

After breakfast I donned bike clothes for my 15-mile ride to Tightwad, MO. Yep. That is the name of the mystery city I alluded to in my last blog post. I just had to say I'd been in Tightwad. Though it was Karen Duggins' day off, she was in and I got to meet her and thank her in person for my two nights at the Parkfield. Karen told me that the bank in Tightwad was a thriving business. People from all over the world held accounts there so that their checks would read "Tightwad Bank." In 2012 the bank reported deposits of well over $20 million.

According to Wikipedia, Tightwad's "unusual name is said to stem from an episode in which a store owner cheated a customer, who was a postman, by charging him an extra fifty cents for a better watermelon. Some claim it was a rooster instead of a watermelon." The postman got his due by naming the town Tightwad.

I left B.O.B. in the room to mope and stepped outside into black clouds, a strong north wind, and cold. Stepped back inside and grabbed my jacket, which I wore over my riding vest. Tightwad is southeast on MO-7. While one would think this direction a comfortable one, I was uncomfortable with the shoulder, a narrow piece of pavement between a rumble strip and a gravel shoulder (see below). Eventually I got tired of tensing up every time a vehicle passed, so I moved over into the road and felt more comfortable.

Uncomfortable shoulder

Before reaching Tightwad, I stopped at a flea market and took the pic below of my bicycle next to one that was literally melting into the pavement (see below). I also stopped at a small antiques store and browsed a bit to get out of the cold wind.

Old girl's bike with pink handlebar tape and white saddle, the rubber disintegrating into the gravel

I was being passed by a lot of vehicles pulling boats. I learned why when I reached the Tightwad Convenience and Tightwad Bait and Tackle store. The Truman Reservoir is only a few miles farther down the road and the fishing was good.

Threatening sky on the way to Tightwad

I bought a cold drink at the Tightwad CS and sat inside in the warmth to eat a banana and a Ritz "Crackerful" (something Bill Upton and I discovered on the 2009 cross-country ride). I was talking to the CS owner, a Tightwad firefighter, and the manager of the bait and tackle place when a guy named David offered me a ride back to Clinton. By now y'all should know my answer. My third R.A.K. out of the blue.  I really was thankful because the ride back would have been difficult with the headwind and narrow shoulder.

Ha ha. The pop. really is only 69 souls.

Tightwad CS and Bait & Tackle Store

David, a young guy and owner of a dump truck service, had business down the road. When he returned, we loaded the bike into his pickup and headed back to Clinton. David offered to buy me lunch at the Golden Corral, but I politely declined. I simply cannot go on eating these big meals! David's girlfriend lives in Calhoun and he told me of a place in Calhoun where a guy had hundreds of bikes. I will stop there tomorrow on my way to Sedalia. I have a choice tomorrow of taking the Katy Trail or riding the road. I will not take the trail if it has rained because the fine limestone gravel (chat) turns to cement on the bike when wet.

Cloudy sky from the porch of the Tightwad CS

Was planning on exploring the historic downtown district on my return, but do not feel to venture out into the wind and cold again, so shall hole up here at the Parkfield for the remainder of my day, do a wash, and organize gear again. The Dorman House, Dogtrot Cabin, and Henry County Museum on the Square in the Historic Downtown Area are all closed today (Sunday) anyway. So you will have to settle for a couple of Internet photos of the downtown area (below).

Stores and businesses in downtown Clinton, MO



Dorman House, built in 1852, the first two-story brick building in Clinton

Henry County Museum

P.S. Many of you whom I've met have asked about my husband. What does he think of your riding off for a month and a half. What does he do? Well, to answer those questions, he loves to follow my rides vicariously, loves to bake and cook, and he is a professor in the English department of Oklahoma State University.

Day 8--Clinton to Sedalia, MO

Monday, April 23, 2012

Frost and cold were predicted for this morning, so I was in no hurry to leave the Parkfield. Finally got myself packed and out the door at 10:15 a.m. It was chilly but sunny. Took me no time to ride the 2 miles north to the Clinton trailhead. The Katy Trail runs 264 miles from Clinton, MO, at its southwest terminus to St Charles, MO, on the far eastern side of the state. While I was pedaling through prairie today, most of the trail is along the Missouri River. After talking to Frank Briscoe a couple of days ago, I think the trail may have been expanded since I last rode it (1999) to extend also to St Louis.

I rode the first 9 miles of the day to the right of the trail on MO-52E. For most of that nine miles, the limestone trail was visible to my left. I entered the trail in Calhoun, MO, sadly forgetting to ride into town to see the guy with "hundreds of bicycles."


Old RR bldg where I entered the KatyTrail in Calhoun



Sign on MO-52E as one enters Calhoun

Stopped in Windsor to eat an early lunch of tuna & crackers, cran juice, and 2 oatmeal raisin cookies.



Sign at side of trail in Windsor; I sat on the bench in front of it and ate my lunch

I met the only other cyclist on the trail shortly after leaving Windsor. He was pedaling a mountain bike from Sedalia to Clinton, the opposite of my day. Said he wanted to test his stamina before attempting the entire trail. I stopped a bit later at the point of the highest elevation of the trail, a whole 995 feet. Since the trail is an old railroad bed, it has no grades over 3%. This may sound ducky to some, but with no hills, one must pedal all the time . . . no coasting. Plus the trail surface provides a lot more resistance than a smoothly paved road The photo left is the modern day granary in Windsor.

The trail was 95 percent tree tunnel and 5 percent open, sunny prairie



The gates where the trail intersects a road

This brought to mind a time on my first long-distance ride when Liz, my cycling companion, and I entered a convenience store in Mississippi for a cold drink. Two teens in the store were impressed with our biking duds and helmets, and with these "elderly" women who were cycling. (I was in my mid-fifties and I don't think Liz had even reached 50.) When asked, we told them that we were on our way from Minneapolis to New Orleans. They were astonished. One of them replied in a thick southern accent, "Well, coast when ya kin, coast when ya kin." I've always thought Coast When Ya Kin a good title for a book of my cycling adventures. Wish some publisher thought the same.

2018 UPDATE: I never found a publisher but in 2016 I created a book through CreateSpace about all of my cycling adventures and titled it: Coast When Ya Kin: 30 Years "Behind Bars." It is available on amazon.com. Click here to find the title on amazon or . . . you can go to my author site:  https://www.writersusanschuylerwalker.com/ to read about all of the books I have created through Create Space, now Kindle Direct Publishing.

Somewhere after my stop at the highest elevation, a hunting-type hound picked me up and ran frantically alongside and back and forth across the trail sniffing, sniffing. Its gait was odd as it bounced off its two hind feet simultaneously. I think it had injured one of its hind legs. It seemed frantic to find its owner. I got concerned after it panted alongside me zig-zagging nonstop for 3 miles. I thought it might drop with nervous exhaustion.

My daughter Lucy called. I stopped, we chatted for a bit, and I told her about the dog. We decided that at the next town, I would call the SPCA. When I started out again, the dog was gone and it never showed up again.

I got to Sedalia at 2:30 a.m averaging only 10.4 mph, according to my computer. My highest speed for the day was 21.3 mph. The highest speed had to be earned while I was on paved  MO-52E. Actually 10 mph and my arrival time are not bad, really, because I stopped for lunch and stopped to take pix, etc.

I am in a complimentary room in a Super 8 this evening. Thank you Super 8 manager Joanna Waggoner!

Day 9--Sedalia to Fayette, MO

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

What a day!  Started out from the Sedalia Super 8 at 8:30 a.m. I had a 55-mile day and wanted to beat the heat. Got tangled up a bit in Sedalia because a street I was supposed to turn on was closed. Got that sorted out and eventually stopped at the Katy Trail Depot (see Internet photo below). The Depot contained a museum, store, and information center. I explored it for a bit and then continued on through the city until I came to the trailhead five miles later. By this time it was 9 a.m. 

The brickwork around the Depot was from Coffeyville, KS. I have these same bricks in a walkway at my Stillwater, OK house. It was my understanding that the bricks came from Coffeyville's brick streets which were replaced with a cement surface. If so Coffeyville had many or wide brick streets! 

Ride the trail for a bit with me through the pix below. I snapped a photo whenever something like a bridge or rock outcropping popped up.

I stopped in Pilot Grove for lunch 27 miles after entering the trail. Searched the little town for a Subway, but didn’t find one. The only place that seemed to be open was a bar and grill. Their door was open and when I asked where I could find a sandwich, the woman behind the bar told me to come in, they served sandwiches. The place was dark with a long bar on one side and small booths opposite it. All but one booth, the one in the very back of the room, was taken by men. The barkeep and I were the only women in the place. The men paid me no heed. They were busy talking about hunting and work. I had a cheeseburger, fries, and a large lemonade—an unusual lunch for me, but there was little else on the menu that wasn’t battered or fried.

KatyTrail crossing over I-70



Two very contented cows in a field of flowers

Motored on to Booneville where one rides city streets for a bit and then crosses the Missouri River on a long bridge. I walked the entire bridge because when seated on the bike I felt insecure looking over the low railing. Those of you who know me know that I am a height as well as a heat wienie. (Actually I think all this weight-bearing walking plus my heavy lunch precipitated events to come.) At the other side of the bridge, I picked up the Katy Trail again and rode it to New Franklin.

The wind was out of the south, so after I turned onto 5N, I had a tailwind. Life was good until about 4 miles outside of Fayette when the heat zapped me. Suddenly I had no energy! I found myself walking the tops of some hills. I finally dragged myself into Fayette, and up a hill to the corner of MO-5N and MO-240, the address of the Silver Bell Motel . . . but there was no motel there. I asked directions to the motel from a family near the intersection. When they told me it was a mile and a half or so farther up the road, I went into meltdown. (I have since learned that I must wait an hour or more after eating a big meal [lunch hamburger etc.] to allow for digestion. I can no longer simultaneously pedal, digest a big or heavy meal, and stay cool.)

This kind family saw my exhaustion and had me sit on their front steps in the shade, offered a cold drink, even a granola bar. When they asked what I was going to eat as there was nothing out by the motel or at the motel, I muttered something about making do with my lunch box. However, when Fayette's eating options included a Subway, I perked up.  R.A.K. #4 occurred when the woman decided to have subs for dinner that night and asked her husband to load my bike and B.O.B. into his truck and drive to the Subway in town and then out to the motel. I offered to pay for their subs with my card, but they would have none of it. Thank you to a wonderful Missouri couple! 

The motel, one of the few non-chains that I’m staying at simply because there is nothing else, was comped to me by the owner on February 23, but since then had changed owners I guess . . . so I paid for my room. Certainly not a room rate that would break the bank. I think I am the only guest. My room is small and neat and seemingly clean but smells of mildew. At first I thought that there was no shower or tub. All the tiny bathroom seemed ot offer was a sink and toilet. Eventually I found a small shower stall behind the bathroom door.

I cannot get on the Internet--no fault of the motel's but something with my computer--so will post this Day 9 blog tomorrow from Moberly.

Notice that this motel is just north of the Fayette city limits

I am still a noodle even as I type this. Good night, Irene. Short day tomorrow so will be up and out early to beat the heat. Tune in tomorrow.                    Susan