Mood:  a-ok

Today started with trepidation.  I have a long ride into an area devoid of services, with difficult terrain.  There will be no replenishment of food or water until I reach Booneville, 55 or 56 miles away.  While the temperatures were only supposed to reach 92 degrees (original forecast said 100), the heat index (factoring in the humidity) was going to be in the triple digits.

To set the stage, let me quote verbatim some of the trail notes written by the people that developed this route:  "The Appalachians may not be as tall as the Rockies, but they are much harder to cycle than the mountains of the West. It is because the gentle inclines of the Rockies are not nearly as tiring as the steep, roller-coaster grades of the Appalachians.   For most of the up-and-down ride through Appalachia, the roads are narrow two-laners with no shoulders.  There is lots of broken pavement, gravel and occasional low-water bridges.......The area around Pippa Passes and Elkhorn City is very hilly, with lots of curves.  At the Breaks, there is a sharp drop into the canyon on the right.  The road surface is very poor in sections.....the road is very curvy with dense vegetation, making it very hard to see approaching cars from either direction.....Several stretches have moderate to heavy coal truck traffic and coal sometimes fall off these rigs, so be prepared.  Also watch out for potholes, particularly on the downhills, and ride cautiously.  In Appalachia summer fogs may cling to the highlands until quite late in the morning.  In an area with heavy traffic or coal trucks, the wise cyclist will either not ride until the fog clears or leave the road whenever a vehicle approaches."   Not a terribly positive outlook on what I have ahead of me.

Yesterday, the bike mechanic drove to Berea to fix my disk brakes.  This was his day off, and his shop was 15 miles away, so I was deeply appreciative of his willingness to help.  He drove 30 miles to meet me, replaced the disk brake pads, re-oiled my chain, and cleaned my brake and shifting cables.  He presented me with a bill for $36.  I gave him $60.  Even that may not have been sufficient.  We talked about my concerns of this route that the maps were directing me to go.  I was thinking about taking two major highways that actually had towns along them.   He studied the route mapped out, and said that he thought it was a great route.  He strongly discouraged me from taking the major highways.  He said that they were still two lanes with little or no shoulders, just as steep, and had tons of fast moving truck traffic.  I decided to stick with the more remote route.  He warned me about the increasing steepness of the hills, and gave me some wisdom.  In the worst case scenario, if it is too steep to pedal, just get off and walk the bike.  There is no shame in it.  The furtherest you might have to walk is a mile.

As usual, I wanted an early start.  Breakfast was provided at Cracker Barrel at 6 AM.   By 6:30 AM, I was on the road heading out of Berea.  There was a bit of traffic heading into town, but little going my direction.  I hit a convenience store 6 miles out of Berea and stopped to drink a small Gatorade.  Then back on the road.

When pioneers first settled into these valleys, they needed as much farmland in crops as possible, so the roads were always put on the side of the valley.  So, commonly, there would be an open view of the fields on one side of my bike, and a hillside on the other.  But the terrain was not nearly as bad as I expected.  Actually, the first 30-35 miles were fairly easy, and the scenery was beautiful. 

Once again I got lost.  I can't blame the map.  I missed a turn and wandered off for several miles before getting set back on course.  Another time I even turned right when the directions specifically said to turn left.  That was corrected quickly, but not before working my way past three protective dogs before knocking on a farmhouse door. 

There were more loose dogs taking an interest in driving me away from their territory.  Today the number was either 7 or 8 (not including the little coward that barked from underneathe a truck, coming out only after I had passed).  One German Shepard made a beeline for me all the way through the meadow and ran along side of me barking furiously.  It still had a tennis ball in its mouth from playing fetch with its owner.  I figured that it wouldn't bite as long as it had the ball in its mouth.  I used my soothing talk technique on it.  It dropped the ball and barked harder.  My technique seemed to not be working well, but it finally tired of the chase.   Keep in mind that on my recumbent, my feet are 3' off the ground, not next to the ground like on upright bicycles, so dogs are a little perplexed as to where to bite.  Maybe they are just joyfully admiring my bike.

The latter portion of the ride was more what I had expected  from the start.  Several long steep climbs reminded me of the climbs I did in the North Cascades, such as Washington Pass, etc.  The most difficult one, ironically was probably no longer than 1/4 mile, but it was very very steep--the kind of steepness that if it were any steeper I would be pedalling upside down.  That little hill was amazingly hard, but I managed to get over it without walking. 

My lodging for the night was another Bed and Breakfast.  My last experience hadn't gone so well.  This owner, however, did not have such an overblown sense of self-importance.  I almost missed her sign several miles before Booneville, but managed to stop and walk the bike up the drive. 

I made it!  The ride wasn't near as bad as I feared. 

Since the B&B, by definition, provides breakfast only, I would have to ride downhill into town, and back up hill again to the B&B.  The owner, however, had a policy of driving bicyclers into town to eat.   She would putter around, then pick them back up and take them back tothe B&B.  She also laundered my dirty, smelly clothes.  It was a wonderful experience.

There were two homes on the property.  There was the one she lived in, which was a converted Schoolhouse/Church, and another small house, that the one-time teacher/pastor lived in.  She and her husband restored the schoolhouse/church into a very nice, and somewhat funky, Victorian home, with 13' ceilings.  The hardwood floors were the originals from 100 years ago.  There were lots of bird feeders, and a half dozen hummingbird feeders.  At any given moment there were at least 10 hummingbirds flying around and normally quite a few more.  They are so territorial, they are fun to watch.

Since breakfast won't be ready until 7:30 AM, I'll be leaving a bit later than usual tomorrow.  My goal is to reach a town called Hazard.  It is 43-45 miles away through hilly country.  Still an 8 AM start will be fine.

The weather report had a 30-40% probablity of thunderstorms tomorrow.  I've avoided rain for awhile now.  I'm probably due.

Will McMahan