Mood:  a-ok

Today began a little differently than normal because Karen's cousin, Jack Ingersol, was here. He would be accompanying me in a support vehicle for two days before starting his return to Minnesota.  I had a mixture of feelings:  I really like Jack and looked forward to seeing him, but it was slightly disconcerting, after having been totally independant, to have someone else there, another dynamic.  I felt funny waking him a little after 6 AM, not sure if he would feel it too early or too late.   In light of his yeoman's drive yesterday, I hoped that he would not be disappointed in his time here.

We started off with a large breakfast at The Cracker Barrel across the street.  It took awhile to get packed.  I also thought it an opportune time oil the bicycle chain.  Recumbents have a very long chain, over 10', and with all the water that I endured over the last several days, it seemed a wise thing to oil it.  Jack had suggested that he carry all of my gear, and that seemed like a good idea although I didn't think it would make that big of a difference.  We left around 8:30 A.M. 

Our destination was Shawneetown, a small town close to the Ohio River, and a short hop from Kentucky.  The distance was going to be around 66-68 miles, something I should be able to accomplish without too much trouble, even with the late start.

Jack adapted quickly to the routine.  He would go out about 5 miles and wait for me to approach.   If everything was okay, I would give him a "thumbs up", and continue on.  He would then pass me and go further up the road.  It helped that he had a neat GPS which he used to calculate distances to future stops, etc., but especially for finding a town in which to eat.

It quickly became apparent that, even though I was carrying a small pannier, the bike was going several miles per hour faster since Jack had the rest of the gear.  In fact I hadn't averaged these speeds the whole trip.   It made me wonder why, when Karen supported me for two days, we left most of the gear on the bike.  It took someone intelligent, like Jack, to point it out, I guess.

Later in the morning, we ate at the Dairy Queen.  Earlier it looked like it might rain, but now the sun was breaking out, so I had to replenish my sun screen (50 block).

This ride became very liberating!  Going easily up the inclines, and faster on the level, I felt a new freedom that I hadn't had before.  A person could cover territory a lot quicker without carrying an additional 50 pounds of weight.

Jack had a cooler filled with ice, in which he stored bottled water.  Ahhh.  What a relief as the temperatures creeped upward.  He also picked up a roast beef sandwich for me, and gave it to me in a nice shady spot up the road.

It became clear that we were going to arrive in Shawneetown early, so Jack went ahead to secure some motel rooms for us.  He met me 8 miles out of town, informing me that he had them ready, and then he returned to Shawneetown to wait for me.  It wouldn't take long.  Or so I thought.

I was riding on a two lane highway, on the shoulder.  It was a crappy shoulder, pitted and gravelly, so I moved over to ride on the smooth pavement.  Unfortunately, there was a gap between the shoulder and highway.  My front tire dropped into the gap, and before I know what was happening I was body slammed into the concrete.  (So much for not having any more crashes.)  This was a hard crash, full of potential for injury, and I was immediately sore.  Moving slowly, as traffic eased by, I lifted my head, then shoulders and arms.  I was successful in extricating my left leg from under the bike, and it was able to bear some weight, a good sign.  Lifting the bike upright, I looked behind me, and a pickup truck with an older couple inside was stopped 30 feet behind me, blocking all traffic from getting too close.  I limped back to them.  They were obviously concerned if I was okay, and offered to carry me and the bicycle into town. 

A trip of this type creates a certain amount of self sufficiency, but hopefully not stupidity.  I wasn't about to take a lift if the bike was okay, and if I was capable of riding.  On the other hand, if either of those two items were not okay, then, in a heartbeat, I would take them up on their offer.  I asked for them to please wait to see if I could ride.  If I could, then I would wave, indicating that I was okay, and they could dive on into town.  I was able to ride fine.

I arrived at the motel with Jack not the wiser until I told him about the mishap.  My left leg was gimpy, and a knot was starting to form at the top of the shin.  Jack pulled out his ice chest, we wrapped ice in a towel, then let it rest on the knot.  When Jack went to his room, I took the time to call Karen and give her a "heads up" (I don't ever want for her to learn about this sort of thing from my journal) then I showered and reapplied the ice pack.  I was feeling better already.

Jack suggested that we drive into Old Shawneetown, the original settlement.  He also wanted to show me the bridge that I would have to traverse in the morning.  It looked very daunting and very narrow.  Hopefully traffic on Sunday morning would be light.

My intended destination tomorrow was to be Dixon, KY, and I had calculated 60+ miles, but, for the first time, I had overestimated the mileage.  It was going to be less than fifty.  Having the time, we drove there.  Once there, we realized that it was shorter still, so we went to the next town, Sebree.  It was still only 37 miles.  Very hilly miles, but only 37.  I have to admit:  seeing all of the hills, after riding on the level, was a bit disappointing.

After dinner at Rudy's Cafe, we returned to our rooms, having discussed plans for tomorrow.  Jack had been transformed, in my mind, from a helper, to an extremely valuable aide.  His help was incalcuable.

The knot had disappeared under the ice pack.  In my only other bad crash, a few years back, I was hurt pretty good and could hardly walk, but ironically, once on the bike, I could pedal fine.  Maybe tomorrow would be like that.  I wasn't hurting near as bad this time.

I fell into a deep sleep at 8:30 PM, wondering what the morning would bring.  Would the leg hold up?  Just how dangerous was the bridge?  Would I be able to sustain the hills?  Would I even be able to ride at all? 

Will McMahan