September 4- Dale City to Alexandria, Va.

We did it. We rode across the U.S.in 91 days, traveling 4,287 miles and climbing 162,483 feet in the process. We are glad to reach our goal, but have enjoyed the whole trip tremendously.

Riding out of Dale City this morning was a nightmare of heavy traffic on roads not designed with the thought that anyone would ride a bike on them. We spent a good bit of time on sidewalks and crossing intersections by using pedestrian lights. The turning point came as we were trying to make our way along busy U.S. 1 with no shoulder. A young man pulled his car over and gave us an alternative route which would be easier and safer. It led back to the intended route at the gate of the huge Ft. Belvoir army base. From then on the riding was easy and enjoyable. A few miles past the army base the road ended at Mt. Vernon. As we'd planned, we stopped there and spent the afternoon touring Washington's mansion overlooking the Potomac River and the gardens and grounds around it. One picture below is Sandy relaxing on George Washington's back porch. When we got back on the bike, it was only ten more miles to Alexandria on the Mt. Vernon Bike Trail. When we approached my brother Shaun's house it was very near our ETA of 6 o'clock, and Shaun was actually standing on the corner waiting to take a picture of our arrival. Not only that, but Chris Wolz, a fellow transam rider we'd met back in Kansas, rode up on his bike at the same moment to join the welcoming party. Shaun's wife Sarah and their son Kyle unfurled a welcoming banner (see pic) and we dipped our wheel in the Potomac to give the ride its traditional end.

Some bike tours are "unsupported", meaning without a guide or vehicle to carry  luggage. We have carried our own gear, but in every other respect, we have been "supported" all the way. We have stayed in motels and eaten in restaurants except where there were none. We have camped a few times, but more often we were generously provided a place to stay by churches and fire stations. Some of the odd places we have slept will be among our fondest memories, like the gym, the jail, the dance hall, and the exercise room by the minimart. We have been overwhelmed by people's generosity all through the trip. When the bike failed, we were put back on the road by four bike shops, in each case at embarassingly little cost or no cost at all. The people at Bike Friday sent new parts so often we were on a first-name basis with Tim and Phil. Lloyd at ABC Bicycles in St. Pete was there to help us locate a part we despaired of finding. The route maps from Adventure Cycling were indispensible guides. Equally important, we have been buoyed by encouragement from other riders, the many other people we've met, and those who have commented on our blog. Countless motorists considerately slowed to a crawl behind us until we gave them the all-clear to pass. We have made many new friends who were interested in our story and shared theirs, though we will probably see few of them ever again. It would be ungrateful to say we were "unsupported": without the help of all those people we would not have gotten far in distance or enjoyment. Thanks to all for supporting the trip of a lifetime.

September 2- Ashland to Fredericksburg, Va.

An excellent hotel breakfast kept us from an early start.

Once on the road, we retraced about 10 miles from yesterday's route, and finally left the Transamerica Bike Route and headed north on the Atlantic Coast Route. Kentucky and Virginia have marked the bike routes (Transam is 76, Atlantic Coast is 1) with signs at almost every turn, and the signs are very helpful. We hope all states follow suit.

We rode about 40 miles through rolling country. Not many farms in this area. No tobacco, a few cornfields, and a few more soybean fields. Many country homes.

After a lunch stop at a KOA, we hit the steepest hill of the whole summer: 19%! We almost ground to a halt but we did top the short hill, feeling a little shattered. Other than that and a few lesser sharp hills, the terrain is settling down to gentle rolling countryside.

Approaching Fredericksburg, we rode through the Civil War battlefield of the same name. Early in the war the Union army tried to cross the Rappahannock River here and storm the heights behind the city where Lee's forces were entrenched. The Union forces were slaughtered. Something like 20,000 men were killed that one day.

At Fredericksburg, after about 60 miles for the day, the lodging choices were limited, and we ended up at a luxurious Marriott in the historic district. Our room is comfortable and large, but not as large as the dance hall upstairs from the fire station where we slept night before last.

Our plan is to end our ride at Alexandria on Wednesday.

September 1- Mineral to Ashland, Va.

We were up and away early from the fire house in Mineral, to ride ten miles to the next town, Bumpass (pronounced bumpus) in time to attend church there. Then a minimart breakfast and back on the road.

It was only a 45-mile day, so we stopped at Scotchtown, home of Patrick Henry. We got a long personal tour, and learned a lot about him. An interesting guy. One reason he is not as famous as other founding fathers is that he kept very few of his papers. He was also a composer and poet, but he burned it all. He was a successful lawyer and planter, and at the end of his life in 1799 he was one of the wealthiest men in Virginia. The house is maintained by a private historical foundation, and has many pieces of original furniture.

About 10 miles north of Ashland, Va.our route to our goal of Alexandria diverges from the Trans Am route we've been following all summer. But if we'd made the turn there today, we would have been left with nowhere to stay for 40 more miles. So we continued into the sizeable city of Ashland, and will retrace our steps tomorrow.

The terrain has been noticeably flatter over the last two days, though the last five miles into Ashland today were quite hilly.

The picture is Patrick Henry's home, framed by Sandy and our guide.

August 31- Charlottesville to Mineral, VA

Today's 55-mile ride itself was uneventful. A hot, humid day, riding through rolling countryside. We drank a lot of water and were happy to reach our destination.

The town of Palmyra was our halfway point today. Even though the population is only a few hundred, they have a good grocery there with a deli. It was too early for lunch, so we had them make us sandwiches to take along. While there we met a cyclist riding from Richmond to Charlottesville who had hosted our Dutch friend Miriam on her way to Yorktown. She had described us and told him to look out for us. We had told Miriam we planned to ride in Holland when we got old (and couldn't climb hills any more). Evidently she thought that was very funny, since we already looked old to her, so she had repeated the story to the man we met today. At yesterday's lunch stop the couple we met had also met Miriam, and plan to take her to New York after they finish their ride. Miriam herself finished eight days ago.

At Mineral, a very small town, there is a barbecue restaurant, but no motels. We sought out the fire station, which our map shows as allowing camping on their grounds. They welcomed us and let us use the showers in the fire house. As we were relaxing outside before dinner, one of the firemen came out, warned us that there was a severe thunderstorm approaching, and invited us to sleep in the dance hall upstairs in the firehouse instead of out in our tent. We were glad to accept the offer.

Before we moved inside we had a long talk with a man who stopped his pickup nearby just to say hello. We learned that Mineral was at the epicenter of the earthquake that shook the mid-atlantic states two years ago. His own house suffered a collapsed chimney, and the local elementary and high schools were damaged beyond repair. Most buildings in the area were damaged. He mentioned one home which cost over a million dollars to repair, of which insurance paid nothing because of fine print: it wasn't the owner's primary residence.

At Charlottesville last night, the motel was amost underneath a railroad trestle. When a train came through in the wee hours the whole building shook. When the air conditioner cycles on here at Mineral, it creates a similar rumble. Train tracks also run beside the building. If it shakes during the night, we won't know if it is the A/C, a train, or an earthquake.

August 30- Love to Charlottesville, VA

We had 16 miles on the Blue Ridge Parkway to start the cool, sunny day. A magnificent ride. At the junction of the Blue Ridge and Skyline Drive parkways, we descended from our last mountain of the trip and started eastward to Charlottesville. The countryside is similar but on this side of the mountains there is no sign of the poverty we occasionally saw in the Shenandoah Valley.

We stopped for lunch at a store which has been owned and operated by the same family for 127 years. There we met a couple from Manassas who are also finishing a cross country ride. Many shared experiences. They started in Oregon a couple of weeks after we did.

At Charlottesville we were lucky to find a room on a football weekend, thanks to a computer glitch which had left some rooms unsold at the first motel we tried. After a shower and rest we walked through the historic center of the UVa campus, where my father and younger brother both started their college educations.

On the walk back to our motel we enjoyed watching the band practice their halftime show.

We have a good web connection, so I'll include pictures from yesterday and today:

Sandy on Blue Ridge Pky Thursday, telling our story.
Our cabin just off the Blue Ridge Pky.
Blue Ridge Pky Friday.
Wyant's Store, White Hall, Va.
Univ. of Va. Rotunda

August 29- Lexington to Love, VA

Today's route took us across the Shenandoah Valley and up onto the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The first ten miles out of Lexington were uneventful and relatively easy riding, but then we found there were discrepancies between what the map and cue sheet were telling us we should be seeing, and what we were seeing. Which is to say, we were lost. A helpful woman stopped at a crossroads where we were scratching our heads and directed us in the right direction to rejoin the intended route.

The elevation profile led us to expect that from the town of Vesuvius the road up to the Blue Ridge would climb 1500' in four miles. It was to be the last major climb of the whole trip. We have faced many difficult climbs with foreboding, only to find that they really weren't so bad. The most recent example was crossing the first of the Appalachian Range into Virginia's Great Valley. That one we gave the name of Pussycat Pass. Well, today's should be called The Boy Who Cried Wolf, because it was even harder than we expected. The whole climb was at a grade of 11-15%. We stopped to catch our breath more and more frequently, even though it is hard to restart on such a steep grade. It finally got to the point where we could only go a few hundred feet; we gave up and walked, pushing the loaded tandem up the mountain. In summary, we rode the first mile, took breaks during  the next mile, and walked the last two. It wasn't pretty, but we did get our bike, gear and carcasses up to the top. An alternative name for the climb would be come-along since we could have used one to hoist the bike up the mountain. One man we spoke with in Lexington yesterday rolled his eyes at the idea of riding a bike up from Vesuvius and said that during the Revolutionary War the Americans hauled cannons up that route and no one knows how they did it. We know how they must have felt. By the way, we have climbed the real Mt. Vesuvius, on foot, and it isn't that steep.

Once on the Blue Ridge Parkway we enjoyed that beautiful road for 11 miles. When they built that road in the 30's, they routed it around the peaks and kept the grade to about 10% or less. There are very few places for lodging or camping along the Blue Ridge Parkway or the Skyline Drive further north. The place we stopped for the night is just out of sight of the Parkway, and we would not have known about it except for a listing on our map. We have a comfortable and well equipped cabin, and there is a little country store here where we got lunch and supplies to fix our own dinner. All the other cabins are vacant tonight, probably because no one knows they are here. Would make a good marketing case study at a business school.

We have a weak wifi connection, and I don't dare try to upload any pictures.

We will sleep well tonight.

August 28- at Lexington, VA

For the first time on the trip, we stayed off the bike entirely today because of weather. It was raining with lightning nearby this morning, and the next leg of our journey climbs up to the Blue Ridge Parkway. It will be hard enough in decent weather, so we stayed a second night at our luxury B&B, and spent the day reading, relaxing, and letting our brains rot. The weather forecast for tomorrow is better, and we'll be on the road no matter what.

We have settled on our final destination for the trip, at Alexandria, VA. It is about 50 miles and one day further than the traditional Yorktown, but my brother and his wife have invited us to end our trip at their house on the shore of the Potomac, and we are looking forward to seeing them.

At the end of week 12 we are at 3962 miles and 149,018 feet of climbing.

August 27- Daleville to Lexington, VA

This was a day of stark contrasts.

We had diverted from the prescribed route yesterday by a couple of miles on a very busy highway in order to reach a motel; we even had to walk the bike on the shoulder for a short stretch. This morning, to avoid fighting our way back, we continued in the same direction for a short distance before turning onto U.S.11 to intersect with our route. It was a challenge to negotiate that busy, multi-lane highway, but we managed it without incident.

Shortly, we found ourselves on a lonely backroad with killer hills- the max was 18%- making us wish we were back on the highway. And in fact, we soon were. But it wasn't long before we were back on a country road and I remarked to Sandy that it was pleasant riding. As I thought about it, of course it was pleasant. It was sunny and cool enough that the sun and shade were equally comfortable. The smooth road was winding through woods at a steady 1% downgrade. We were warmed up but not tired, and the bike liked the gear it was in. You could sell tickets for a ride like that.

We stopped at the historic town of Buchanan for a meal, even though it was only 10:30. We keep telling ourselves that mealtime should be a matter of opportunity rather than the clock. We ate at an old drugstore with a pharmacy, soda fountain, and booths. Not cutely nostalgic, just an old place still going. The staff was putting up Happy Birthday banners for the boss, which we thought was a nice touch, not something you'd see at Walgreen's.

The later ride was on backroads though never far from I-81. In early afternoon, at about mile 50, we reached Lexington, and sought out the bike store we had been looking forward to. We restocked our supply of tube patches but the shop was so cramped the owner couldn't get our tandem back to his service area to do a little cable improvement I was hoping for.

We retraced our route a few blocks to check out a B&B we'd seen on the way into town. It is a budget-buster, but worth it; a large, luxurious house with antique furniture and beautiful artwork. We've stayed in enough cheap motels to feel we deserve hardship mitigation sometimes.

We walked several blocks to a Greek restaurant and enjoyed dinner there. We have seen no Greek restaurant before on this trip.While there we met four young cyclists (3M, 1F), eastbound like us. They left Astoria only a week after we did.

On the walk back we stopped at a cemetery to visit Stonewall Jackson's grave.

Lexington is a beautiful old town of 8000, the home of Washington and Lee College and also VMI. As pretty a town as any we've seen, and thriving. The restaurant prices are higher than we've grown used to.

One other thing to mention. We must have been asked our age at least 50 times so far on this trip. Since that's a question out of normal polite bounds, there is apparently a disconnect between what we are doing and how old we look. Makes us feel good every time we're asked.

The first picture below is nothing special, just a typical view of our roads through Virginia.

August 26- Christiansburg to Dalevfille, VA

Our uneventful ride today continued across the Great Valley between the Ridge and Valley Appalachians to our west and the Blue Ridge ahead. We rode 50 miles of hilly terrain without a net gain or loss of more than a few hundred feet. As we found yesterday, some of these little hills have some bite: 10%, 14%, ... whatever. We just trudge over them, and today we didn't need to stop or walk any.

One notable thing about today's route is that there wasn't a single gas station, convenience store, or restaurant anywhere between the starting and ending towns. As we've travelled east, there have been more rest stop places; not today.Our lunch was pop tarts alongside the road.

After settling into a Howard Johnson's Motel (did you know they still have those?) we had an excellent Mexican dinner across the street.

August 25- Wytheville to Christiansburg, VA

It was cool this morning, in the low 50's at seven o'clock. I don't know if the elevation of 2000' was responsible, or if it is just getting late in the summer. Either way, it warmed up quickly.

When we got ready to leave the motel, I found that the flat tire from yesterday was flat again. I had time to fix it and still make the local church's 9 o'clock service. It was nearly 10:30 by the time we got on the road.

The environment for riding has changed. We are still routed onto small backroads, but the towns are larger, and there are more and more non-agricultural houses. We are finally getting into more populous areas.

The terrain today was up and down. None of the hills had large elevation gains; many were as steep as 10-12%, and a few were steeper yet. Sandy had worried our legs might forget how to climb before we hit the Blue Ridge, but her worry was needless.

In the whole trip, no eastbound riders had passed us on the road, or we them, but today two young men from England did overtake us and we rode together long enough to exchange hellos. On the next uphill, they disappeared ahead. They left Oregon about 10 days after we did.

We stopped for lunch near the town of Grahams Forge, grateful to find a real restaurant instead of a minimart. Last night's motel had a continental breakfast, but all we could eat of it was bagels; that breakfast had been light, so we ordered a larger lunch. It took so long to be served our lunch stop took over an hour. Made us realize minimarts aren't all bad.

As we were getting out of the large town of Radford, we turned up a road with a whopping 18% grade. We grunted up most of it and walked the rest. With hindsight, we wished we'd walked more of it.

We reached our destination town, Christiansburg, after 56 miles, late in the day. We walked a couple of blocks from our motel in the middle of town to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Not the best, but a refreshing change from usual fare.

cus to Wytheville, VA

Just as we were about to set out aftger breakfast,

August 24- Damascus to Wytheville, VA

As we were about to set out after breakfast, a Forest Service volunteer asked us about our route plan, and suggested we ride up the Virginia Creeper Trail rather than the road route shown on our map, because of heavy traffic on the road which winds up the mountain. It turned out the volunteer, Marsha Wikle, lives in Palmetto, very near our home. She also recently had a bike crash causing the identical injury to one I suffered about 15 years ago.
We took Marsha's advice, having learned to give heavy weight to local knowledge if it comes from a cyclist (and little weight otherwise). The trail follows an old railroad bed and the part we rode gradually climbs 1000' over 12 miles, so steadily that we felt we were hardly climbing at all. The trail is gravel and dirt and mud, so we rode at a slow speed, but the weather was cool and clear and we were riding beside a creek with constant rapids and waterfalls, so we were in no hurry.
Our route over the Appalachians crosses two major ridges. Today we rode over the first. The Blue Ridge Parkway, which lies a few days ahead, runs along the top of the second one. The trail got us halfway up to today's 3700' summit, and the road the rest of the way up was nowhere as steep as some of the hills we've been over before today. Since the pass was not marked with a name on the map or on the road, we decided to name it Pussycat.
Quickly descending from Pussycat Pass, we reached the Lost City of Troutdale, which our map said has 494 people and "all services". i.e. a restaurant, grocery, service station, motel, post office, and a hostel. It was our planned lunch stop. Problem was, there wasn't anything there except a couple of houses. At the end of the day we looked at the satellite view using Google Maps, and confirmed that what we didn't see isn't there. Strange.
We pressed on, and since we were still descending it didn't take long to reach the next town, Sugar Grove. Just as we stopped for lunch (standup minimart fare) we got a flat on the left trailer tire. By the time we ate and fixed the tire, it was 3:30, so we knew it would be late by the time we finished the day. And it was.
After the descent from Pussycat, the terrain was easy riding, up and down on small country roads, with plenty of pastures, farms and cows to see. The last few miles to Wytheville, pop. 7762, was on a busy U.S. highway, without incident. Wytheville is within lodging range of the big NASCAR race at Bristol, so I was quietly worried we might have trouble finding a room at less than triple what it might cost, but we found one at a descent motel at only 1 1/2 times the usual rate, within walking distance of an Applebys, where we enjoyed a drink and dinner while watching the car race and me teasing Sandy that I'm becoming a big fan.

August 23- at Damascus, VA

HTo get our trip moving again, we needed a bike mechanic's help with our jammed shifter, so first thing in the morning we took it to the most promising of the bike rental/shuttle shops, and met the manager, Pepper, who bought into our cause, he having ridden cross country three times and knowing what it is like to be stuck. While we went next door for breakfast, he was able to extract the jammed cable and replace it with a new one. The shifter itself was undamaged. By ten o'clock he had it adjusted and we left with a healthy bike, much relieved.

Since we are already committed to a second night in Damascus, we have the remainder of the day to spend resting and whatever. I took a long time to give the bike and the cases a thorough cleaning, the best they have had since before we started the trip. Then on to the town's library where we could relax, read, and blog with wifi. 

Returning to our B&B, we sat outside and spent a long while chatting with our hosts, Gaines and Susie, and three interesting guests who are here for the NASCAR races.

To reward ourselves for untold minimart dinners, we went to a "tablecloth" restaurant overlooking an old mill race and pond and enjoyed a fine dinner. We may eat the memory of it for dinner one day in the future.

We spent an enjoyable evening talking with one of the guests, David, from Columbus, Ohio, while watching an NFL game. None of us cared much about the game and we talked about sports we used to play and encounters with dogs.

Damascus is a pretty town, which since the bike trail opened in the early 90's has thrived on the bike rental and shuttle business, as I mentioned yesterday. We learned that they get 120,000 people per year here to ride the trail, and about 10,000 hikers on the Appalachian trail, plus a few hundred touring cyclists like us. The winters here are dead.

August 22- Rosedale to Damascus, VA

Before we left our accommodation at the Methodist church in Rosedale, Sandy took advantage of supplies in their kitchen to cook up a pancake breakfast. We never did see anyone from the church, but we appreciated their opening it to cyclists. We could see in the guestbook that Marie-Christine and Peter were there the night before, so they are already a full day ahead of us.

Yesterday's ride completed our eleventh week on the road, with 3701 miles behind us and total climbing of 130,098'.

After a few mostly flat miles, we hit the big climb of the day, 1000' over a mountain ridge which looked intimidating on our map's elevation profile. It turned out to be 2 1/4 miles of 8-10% grade, and we were pleased with ourselves that we climbed over it without any rest stops. We seemed to be riding better than the day before, and one reason may be that my bike check before setting out for the day found that the rear brake was dragging. Maybe we had the brake on all day yesterday.

The descent to Hayters Gap was too winding and steep to be enjoyable; Sandy is getting very good at working the drum brake on and off so that all I have to do on descents is steer.

The sun had come out after a foggy start, so at the bottom of the descent we stopped to apply sunscreen. When we restarted, the shifter for the rear derailleur, which we replaced only a couple of weeks ago, wouldn't work at all. The cable going into the shifter looked frayed. We still had 20 miles to go to Damascus, which our map says has a bike shop. As a temporary fix to get there, I tightened the derailleur cable so that we were fixed in a fairly small gear, enabling us to get over hills if they were not too steep. We limped our way to Damascus, and found that the town is a popular center for mountain bike rentals to people who ride from the top of a nearby mountain back down to town on the Virginia Creeper rail-to-trail. There are no fewer than six bike rental places, but none had a mechanic on duty until tomorrow. Damascus is also a town crossed by the Appalachian Trail so they see many hikers as well as transamerica cyclists.

We were lucky to have called ahead to reserve a room at a B&B in town, because there is a NASCAR race at Bristol, VA this weekend, and almost every room for 100 miles in every direction is booked. We decided that we would have to stay in Damascus at least two nights because even if we get the bike fixed in the morning, the next leg of our trip is long enough that we'll need a full day on the road. Our hostess Susie not only found a room at her Inn where we could stay an extra night, but even offered to put us up in her house if we need to stay longer.

After a drink and dinner, and a walk around town with our hosts, we retired to a night of worry about what we will do if we can't get the bike fixed.

The picture is from our evening walk, showing the Appalachian Trail emerging from the woods into town.

August 21- Haysi to Rosedale, VA

We left the caboose B&B, after a big breakfast, in cool, foggy weather. The sun came out and we got a good warmup on mostly flat, winding roads for the first 15 miles. But we knew there was one big hill to climb. It turned out to be long, 2 1/2 miles, but not too steep, mostly about 8%, topping Big A Mountain at 2800'. What do you suppose the "A" stands for? Yep.

After Big A, we had two more shorter hills which were steeper and harder. On one we could see a tractor mowing the shoulder ahead and when he stopped to turn around we could see several dogs swarming the tractor. The tractor came back down the road toward us and he beeped his horn to warn us about the dogs. I stopped and shouted to the woman at the house trailer door to call in her dogs, which she finally did. I kept the pepper spray handy and we pedalled on. Many riders we've met have warned us about dogs in KY and VA. We have not had much trouble with dogs anywhere so far, though we have been recreationally chased by many.

A shower caught us at the little town of Rosedale, but we ducked into a convenience store for lunch and it stopped raining before we left. We laughed that we don't mind riding in the rain, but we do need to put on our rain jackets when we go inside air conditioned stores. Just outside of Rosedale we reached our stop, the United Methodist Church, which opens its doors to cyclists. We are becoming connoisseurs of church community room accommodations as well as minimart cuisine. The church here gets four stars for its full kitchen and well-stocked pantry (we brought our own dinner), but they have only a cold outdoor shower so they don't get that fifth star. Nevertheless, we appreciate their making the space available to us. Otherwise we'd be camping somewhere and probably dealing with a wet tent in the morning.

I realize I haven't commented much on the terrain in the last few days, since the hills commanded our attention. We have been winding through scenery of beautiful small wooded mountains. The mountainsides are so steep there is no farming. While there are few direct signs of coal mining to be seen from the road, there are many coal trucks on the road, and coal is the primary economic base for this region. The population is sparse, and there is hardly room in the valleys for the small towns that do exist, surrounded by practically vertical hillsides. The winding roads through the mountains are often very steep. It has occurred to me that when they improved the roads from the originally logging and coal hauling trails, they decided to invest only so much in dynamite.

August 20- Lookout, KY to Haysi, VA

After our marathon day yesterday, we had a rough night last night. The gym mats were comfortable enough, but we both had trouble with leg cramps, me especially. They kept me up most of the night. I was wondering if I could ride at all in the morning, but about 4 o'clock I finally took a couple of ibuprofens, which after a few minutes relaxed the muscles miraculously. I've never had cramps like that before; I guess we dug so deep yesterday that we hit bedrock.

Anyway, we're in Virginia, the last state of our trip, at last. Marie-Christine left Lookout ahead of us, planning to ride 64 miles for the day. After yesterday's long, hard ride we opted for a more modest plan, only 30 miles to Haysi (HAY-sigh, not HAY-see). But the route included three sharp hills in quick succession. Like yesterday, we handled the first two with a few rest stops. And knowing that the day's ride was short, we took time at a couple of scenic spots overlooking the Russell Fork River. The pictures include one of a rock I wanted to climb out on. Sandy said no, so I'll photoshop myself onto it at some future date. As we neared the top of that second hill a truck was passing us, and because the road was narrow I pulled over near the muddy right edge. The wheels shot out from under us like a watermelon seed and splat- we were lying on the road. The trucker went wide enough we weren't roadkill, and in fact we had no scrapes or bruises. So it goes.

The third hill was the shortest, but ridiculously steep. Trucks were struggling to get up it in their lowest gear. Our lowest gear was our feet, which we used to get up the last 150' of climbing.

The climbs in the Rockies were long but mostly not steep. Some of the hills of the Ozarks were very steep, but short. Either way, they were rideable. Some of the hills we've seen so far in the Appalachians are so long and so steep, they're simply unrideable. At least they are for us, carrying our own gear. I'm glad we're riding west-to-east. We're in much better condition than when we started, and if we were facing this terrain early in our trip it would have been discouraging. We met two westbound young men on our descent from that third hill. They are hoping to reach the Rockies by September 15.

We reached Haysi early, and stopped at the library to use their computer and wifi. When Sandy told the library staff we planned to stay at the town's only motel, she got a disapproving reaction. It turns out there is one B&B not mentioned on the Adventure Cycling map. The librarian called the B&B for us and we killed time at the library until the room was ready. When we rode over there we found that our lodging was a railroad caboose, very comfortably fitted out. The owner, whose house is next door to the caboose, asked us what time we wanted breakfast, but not what we wanted to have. We weren't expecting much since she only charged $60, but in the morning when we emerged at the appointed 7:30, she was on her way over with our breakfast: Coffee,orange juice, milk, eggs, bacon, sausage, freshly baked biscuits, jelly, and sausage gravy. What a feast! But here's a puzzle: we've been in the South for two weeks and haven't seen grits on a menu yet. I guess KY and western VA just don't do grits. The pretty girl on the steps of the caboose is Sandy.

August 19- Chavies to Lookout, KY

The morning's ride was the second half of what we'd intended to do the day before. It was an easy 30 miles to Hindman (pronounced with a long "I", as in last man), and we were there before noon. I went to the hostel to apologize for not showing up the night before, but it was locked up. We did have good phone connections, and I found several text messages from the hostel, all with the theme of "Where are you?"

As we ate lunch we considered two options. We could stay at Hindman if we could contact the hostel or we could press on to the next possible stop, 50 miles further on. The prospect of another idle afternoon was not appealing, especially to Sandy. Brain rot concerns her more than it does me, possibly because she has more to lose. So at 1 p.m. we got on the road again, and immediately got a good soaking from a brief shower.

There were three major hills to cover, with progressively greater elevation gains. We had to make one rest stop on the first hill, because the grade was a long 10%+. On the second hill, also long and steep, we made frequent stops. Before the third hill we ran into a brief but strong shower, but we were already as wet as could be, between the previous rain and plenty of perspiration.

After 77 miles, we started on the third hill, which went up 300' at an easy grade, but then 700' at 10-14%. Our rest stops got closer and closer together until finally we stopped at a point where the grade was 15% and we didn't have what it takes to restart. We swallowed our pride and pushed the bike up the final 3/10 of a mile. On that hill I saw something for the first time of the whole trip: our shadow on the road ahead. We'd never before ridden eastward so late in the day.

The downhill from that last hill wound down a very steep and narrow road toward our goal, the Freeda Harris Baptist Center at Lookout, which our map said offered cyclist-only "accommodations". For the benefit of anyone wondering why we didn't stop earlier or stay in a motel, be assured there was no earlier stop, and there was no motel.

By the time we reached the Baptist Center it was nearly dark and we also heard something for the first time on the trip: crickets and frogs croaking while we were still on the road.

The phone messages from the Hindman hostel had let us know that our Scottish friends Marie-Christine and Peter had been there, so it was pleasant but not unexpected to find them at Lookout. It was good to see them again. We only caught them because Marie-Christine does not ride on Sundays.

Our accommodation was at the Baptist Center's gymnasium on gym mats spread on the basketball court. The center serves as a food pantry and provides clothes and medicines to the many poor people in the area, as well as recreation for the kids. We were grateful that their mission includes accommodating cyclists.

We had time before bed only to eat the food we'd bought earlier at a convenience store. We logged 84 miles for the day, our longest of the trip, under difficult conditions. Our bodies were used up for the time being, but we didn't have time for brain rot.

August 18- Boonville to Chavies, KY

We started in steady rain from Linda's B&B. The hills were getting longer and steeper, but we couldn't make the usual good time on the downhills because of the wet roads. It was too warm for me to wear a rain jacket, and Sandy soon took hers off, too.

Our plan was to ride 65 miles to Hindman, and at the halfway point we stopped for lunch at a convenience store/ deli in the little town of Chavies. We were soaking wet from the rain and sweat, pretty tired from the morning's hard hills, and cold in the store's air conditioning. After lunch, while Sandy was in the ladies' room, I was in a conversation with a local man who was interested in the history of the Transamerica Bike Trail, which has gone through Chavies since its inception in the Bicentennial year. Given our discomfort from the morning's ride, I asked, "I don't suppose there is somewhere here we could be put up for the night?" He thought a moment and said he'd make some phone calls. By the time Sandy came out, he had already decided our best bet was the local church, and he was heading to his car to go see the pastor. Sandy was surprised at the turn of events, and not all that anxious to stop when he came back with the news that we were welcome at the church, which had cots, but his offer to get warm showers at his house won her heart. So we headed a few doors down to the home of our new helpful friend, John Goss, and met his Yorkshire terrier which was totally blind from a canine form of glaucoma.

We were soon installed in the basement of the Church of God's older of two buildings. There was no TV or wifi; there was a comfortable sofa, however, and we soon conked out for a long nap. Still, it was a long and lazy afternoon. Sandy was running out of her current Kindle book, and without a wifi or ATT connection, I couldn't update the blog (I'm writing two days later). In short, our brains rotted. After dinner, back at the convenience store, it was an early bedtime.

We had called the day before to the hostel in Hindman and left a phone message that we would be there. We felt bad that we had no phone connection at Chavies to be able to let them know we wouldn't make it.

We never did find out how to pronounce Chavies.

August 17- Berea to Booneville, KY

Weather was excellent for riding today, cool and cloudy, with only a little easterly breeze.

Five miles out of Berea we passed through the aptly named town of Big Hill. Outside of the town we climbed steadily for three miles, gaining about 700'. It was the first long hill we've seen since the Rockies. The rest of the 50 mile day was up and down hills, longer than we've been seeing recently, but only a few of them were steeper than 8-9%. The roads wound through small, sharp mountains; we're in Appalachia for real now.

Our accommodations are at Linda's Victorian B&B, a country house a couple of miles west of Booneville, where there is nowhere to stay. Our hostess gave Sandy a lift into town to pick up a takeout dinner.

We saw one westbound touring rider the day before yesterday, and we're guessing he'll be the last we see; it would be too late in the season for a cross-country rider not to be farther along.

August 16- Harrodsburg to Berea, KY

We started our day with a knockout breakfast buffet at the Beaumont Inn at Harrodsburg. We had their special cornmeal pancakes and  enjoyed some fresh fruit, the first in a long while.

For the third day in a row, it was cool enough to start with rain jackets on, and it never did get really hot. The route today was 45 miles of increasingly hilly terrain and especially untravelled small roads. See the picture below, and imagine the sound of a bubbling brook alongside and birds chirping, and you'll get the idea. It wasn't all like that, but close enough.

Berea is considered the transition point on the trans-am route between the bluegrass of western and central Kentucky, and the Appalachian mountains, which we could see ahead by the end of the day.

We'd called to make a reservation at a B&B in Berea. The place I called doesn't do B&B anymore but I'd talked them into putting us up. Our room is upstairs from the owners' craft store. They are weavers. Their stuff is beautiful, and they've been doing it for 45 years. They are also musicians; Neal plays mountain dulcimer, and when he found out I do too, he brought out his double dulcimer (see picture) on which we played a duet.

For dinner we walked about 1/2 mile to the campus of Berea College, which reminds me of Williamstown, where I went to college. We ate at the campus "tavern" where they don't serve alcohol but do serve very good food. For the second evening in a row we got an excellent dinner, so we should stop complaining about the grub.

Berea has a celtic festival this whole weekend and after dinner we went to a ceili, with a large band playing for Irish dancers and contra dances. It was fun to watch and hear, but we left the dancing to those who hadn't climbed the hills we climbed today and will climb tomorrow.

August 15- Bardstown to Harrodsburg, KY

Before following the prescribed route out of Bardstown, we rode through the center of town, partly to stop at a drugstore for a few items, and partly because we'd been told that that the town's center is old, well preserved, and attractive. It is all of that. Bardstown is a large town by the standards of our trip, with an economy concentrated on a large distillery. This is bourbon whiskey country.

Once on the road, we again had ideal cycling conditions and another beautiful day. At the midpoint we stopped to visit Lincoln Homestead State Park, which has the log house in which Abraham Lincoln's mother grew up, after moving from Virginia following her father's death at the hand of Indians. Abe's grandfather was also killed by Indians.

The terrain is got a little hillier today, and everyone we meet tells us the Appalachians will be very hard riding. Maybe so; we'll worry about that in a few days when we get into them.

We arrived in Harrodsburg, another large and attractive southern town, in mid afternoon and spent a while riding past the motels listed on our map. Two looked scuzzy. We couldn't find a third, but we passed a sign for the historic Beaumont Inn, so we turned in to check that out.  Good move. It's a beautiful antebellum place, originally built as a school for young women but it has been an inn since 1916. The price wasn't too out of line, and it is good to be in a non-crummy hotel for once. Better yet, they have a good tavern and restaurant where we enjoyed a bourbon cocktail and ate a delicious meal.

A great day: good riding, no hardships, interesting historical stop, and an over-the-top place to stay and eat. Tomorrow will be another short day; then at least two long ones.

That's Sandy sitting on the veranda of the hotel.

August 14- Sonora to Bardstown, KY

Today's ride was as near perfect as we could find here on earth. Sunny skies, temperature uncharacteristically cool, beautiful countryside, good backroads to ride with plenty of curves and rolling hills for variety, an interesting historical stop, and even company on the road.

When we got on the road this morning after a long chat over coffee with our host at Sonora, it was bright and sunny, but cool enough that Sandy wore her rain jacket for a while. What a refreshing change from the rain, clouds and steamy humidity we've suffered for the last few days.  After ten miles we stopped at Lincoln's birthplace near Hodgenville. There is a monument right on the spot of his family's cabin, and even a cabin inside the monument, with a story. It seems that some entrepreneur was taking an old cabin around the country and charging people to see the cabin where Lincoln was born. It turned out the cabin dated from the 1840's. Old, but not old enough. Abe was born in 1808.  When the monument was built for the centennial of Lincoln's birth, they wanted to put a replica cabin inside. Someone said they knew where there was an old cabin available, so there it is now.

At the Lincoln birthplace we ran into our friends Peter and Marie-Christine, whom we had met back at Sebree. Marie-Christine was anxious to get on her bike before we were ready to leave, but we ran into her again at Howardstown when we stopped for lunch. She had lost contact with Peter, who was shadowing her in their car, but he rolled up soon. We decided to ride with Marie-Christine for the 25 miles to our stopping place at Bardstown, while she was to continue another 20 miles. We've met plenty of westbound riders, but this was only the third time of the trip that we actually rode with anyone; it was a very pleasant change to have her company. Not surprisingly, since she was traveling without a load, she was stronger uphill than we are. But we had the momentum advantage on the downhills, so it worked out.

At Bardstown we bid Peter and Marie-Christine goodbye again. I hope the rest of their trip goes well, and I hope we keep in contact. Nice people.

We found a motel in town, right on the route. Immediately next door was a restaurant where we could actually sit down, order a drink (KY has local option, and almost every place we've been has been "dry") and get a decent dinner. Convenience stores are... convenient, but we have made do at a lot of them, and we appreciate the chance to eat better when we can.

This part of Kentucky is beautiful, and many of the country houses have acres of green lawn. I wouldn't want to mow that much, but it does make for good scenery. Today ends our 10th week on the road, at 3367 miles and 104954 feet of climbing. East Ever Eastward!

August 12- Utica to Falls of Rough, KY

Our young Dutch friend Miriam, the other cyclist staying at the Utica fire station, was up and out early. We had enjoyed meeting her. She is one year away from finishing medical school, taking the summer to ride across the U.S. west-to-east as we are, and she has been riding mostly on her own. She left the coast of Oregon 19 days after we did, so you do the math: she's covering a lot more miles each day than we are.

The sky opened up about a half hour after Miriam left, so we took our time getting ready and eating breakfast. By the time we started the rain was almost finished, but the roads stayed wet all morning until the sun came out.

Our ride was 46 miles and despite the post-rain humidity, the route today was about as good as it gets for cycling: rolling hills and well-kept farms and country homes, and small towns every hour or so. Starting out, we wished there was a longer route with a destination where we could eat and sleep, but they put the towns in the wrong place. We have several days ahead of 40-50 miles, with 80-100 the only alternative. Nevertheless, by the time we reached the one motel at our destination today, we were glad to get out of the heat and "liquid air", as Sandy calls it.

About the time we thought about riding the 1/2 mile or so to a restaurant for dinner, we were hit by a line of thunderstorms which stretched all the way from Indiana to Tennessee. So we ordered pizza for delivery and enjoyed it while watching baseball on TV (the hated Yankees vs the Angels).

Something from last week I forgot to mention.  We met a second young man riding west pulling a trailer with a dog, and again the dog was a pit bull. This one, Luda, is not trained to safely run alongside the bike, so Samuel often has to walk the bike and the dog up hills, since Luda is big and heavy.

Another item from way back, Sheridan Lake, Colo. While staying at the church there, I poured myself a glass of water from the tap. "Don't drink that!", I was warned: the water supply is contaminated with uranium. But they claimed that one faucet dispensed good water, since it was run through a softener and filter. We don't glow in the dark, but I still wonder how much good their softener and filter does for uranium.

We won't mind if the forecast of a sunny day tomorrow is accurate. The farther east we go the closer we get to what looks like perpetual rain on the east coast. Rain isn't a problem for us, but lightning is.

We are staying in a motel which was closed for a year because a plane crashed into it. We feel very secure because, as we learned in The World According to Garp, no building has ever been hit by two plane crashes.

August 13- Falls of Rough to Sonora, KY

Having technical trouble saving and posting yesterday's write-up (Utica to Falls of Rough. Will post it ASAP)

Two milestones today- We crossed into the Eastern time zone and, proving we're in the South, we had dinner in a cafe which served iced tea sweetened only.

It had rained most of last night at Falls of Rough. When we got on the road this morning, it was cloudy and the roads were dry. There was little sunshine all day, so it didn't get too hot, and we rode 50 miles of ideal cycling terrain.

Late in the day we met the first tandem couple of our whole trip so far. Newlyweds Ashlie and Scott are riding a recumbent tandem westward, with the coast of Oregon their goal. Unless they are a lot faster than we have been, they won't be out of the Rockies until the middle of October. They realize it is late in the season, and may reroute to Calif., but their hearts are set on Oregon. Godspeed to them.

By mid-afternoon we reached Sonora and the private guest house where we'd made a reservation. Our friend Miriam, a day ahead of us, stayed here and emailed us that it was a great place. An understatement. Our host, Charley Thurman, has a huge house which has been in his family since it was built in 1897. Better yet, he has all the original antique furniture. Better yet, he has a family library of beautiful rare books which has been passed down through the generations since about 1850. He has combined two houses into a facility which can accommodate parties of up to 200, and the place is a great kid magnet for his six children and 13 grandchildren. He took pride in giving us a tour of it all. Our room is the original parlor, and staying here sure is a pleasure for two people who braved the Royal Inn at Marion just a couple of days ago.

August 11- Sebree to Utica, KY

We said goodbye this morning to our generous hosts, Bob and Violet, and our new friends Peter and Marie-Christine.  Sebree is unusual among small Kentucky towns in having a Catholic church, and we headed there. We were early, and spent a few minutes talking with the priest outside the church. At the end of Mass he introduced us to the congregation and remarked that the only other touring cyclist ever to appear at their church was one man from Belgium, years ago. That made us feel better about all the Sundays on this trip when we have missed church.

By the time we finished brunch and left Sebree it was past noon. Just as well, since we only planned to ride 28 miles, to Utica. Even for a half day, we wanted to ride more, but the next possible stop was 43 miles more, out of comfortable range.

This was the first day of sunshine in a long while, and our route made for great riding. The first half was pretty flat, through farms and woods. Then we were in rolling hills, which made the ride varied but not difficult. Before long we were in Utica, and stopped at the volunteer fire station where cyclists are accommodated. One of the fire fighters was on duty, having been called in as a precaution after ATT's cell system in the area went down, interfering with emergency communications. Also there ahead of us was a young lady from the Netherlands, Miriam Teeuwssen, also riding across the country eastward. She is on a faster track, having left Oregon 20 days after we did. She'll disappear ahead of us tomorrow.

The three of us walked to a grocery store and bought supplies for dinner. The fire station has a well-appointed kitchen, and we enjoyed a dinner of lasagna, garlic bread, and fresh tomatoes. Then we walked back to pick up a half gallon of ice cream, planning to leave leftovers for the firemen. Alas for them, there was none left over.

August 10- Marion to Sebree, KY

Once again it was raining when we woke up, but by the time we got ourselves organized the rain had stopped and we could see on Weatherbug's radar that we were sandwiched by two areas of rain to our north and south, both moving east. So we rode up to the center of town to breakfast at a cafe where we learned not only that our motel is notoriously bad (no news, with hot water only on request, a broken window, and a lamp which shocked you when you touched it anywhere) but that the Methodist church in town puts up cyclists. I don't know how we didn't get the word.

When we left breakfast it was still cloudy but the roads had mostly dried off, and we were in for a pleasant surprise: a few miles out of Marion the sharp hills we've grown accustomed to gave way to nearly flat farmland, with only a few hills worthy of the name for the 45 miles to the town of Sebree. And the sun finally made an appearance. It made for easy riding; not perfect, because of the heat and post-rain humidity, but pleasant nonetheless. The distance was short and we'd started relatively early, so we dragged our feet, taking a long refreshment break at a little town halfway.

The Baptist church at Sebree has hostel accommodations for cross-country cyclists, so after lunch we headed there. We were welcomed by the pastor, Bob Hardison, who showed us to their youth community building, with showers, comfortable sofas, a small separate room where we could set up mattresses for ourselves for sleeping, and even access to a washer and dryer. Two hours later another couple arrived, Peter and Marie-Christine Glancy, from Scotland, she via Belgium. They are just a little younger than we are, but are recently married. When he proposed, she said yes but she wanted to cycle across the U.S. So they flew to Seattle, bought a car and a bike, and set out; she riding and he driving.

Bob told us that there was a two day bluegrass festival winding up that evening at Henderson, about 20 miles away, and all four of us were happy to accept his offer to take us. He also said he and his wife Violet had received some leftover grilled chicken from a local event, and invited us to share that with them before going. What a setup: the leftover chicken was only the beginning. Violet had prepared a large and delicious home-cooked feast, including cornbread and several vegetables.

Violet declined to join us on the outing to the bluegrass festival. Sandy and I felt guilty when we both realized later that since their car only seats five passengers, her excuse for not going was generous but bogus.

The festival was at the large town of Henderson, at a park on the Ohio River. The park was on the site of a mill built by John James Audobon in  1810 To his disappointment the mill was a business failure. A good thing, or we might never have had his paintings to enjoy. We like bluegrass, moderately, but in this case the music was terrific. We were there for four bands in succession, all different, and all excellent professional musicians. We enjoyed ourselves immensely and got back to the church after midnight, too late to write up the blog; I'm writing Sunday afternoon.

August 9- Bay Creek Ranch, IL to Marion, KY

After yesterday's hard day, we slept in until 7 o'clock. We took our time getting ready, and shared a cup of coffee with our hostess. A few miles down the road we stopped for a real breakfast at a place we'd been warned was a rough roadhouse. The people there were very friendly, and warned us not to stop at our first possibility, Cave-in-Rock, because there was a week-long rock concert going on. The groupies, we were assured, would beg aggressively and steal what we did not give voluntarily- by force if necessary.

We stopped a couple of hours later at Elizabethtown, on the Ohio River, for refreshments and a brief rest. The riding had not been too hard, but we were soaking wet from the humidity. Shortly after Elizabethtown, the route put us on a small backcountry road which did give us some difficult hills, including two at 17% which we somehow got over without stopping.

At Cave-in-Rock, where we caught a ferry across the river to Kentucky, of course none of the feared groupies were in evidence. Once on the Kentucky side, 12 miles of rolling hills put us in Marion, an active town of 3,000. There is a good B&B, full, so we ended up at the cheapest of cheap motels, except for the price. While we took a rest, a strong thunderstorm blew through, part of a stationary system which is causing flooding and misery in the whole region. But it cleared in time for us to ride a short way back to the center of town and the best Italian dinner we have had in a long time.

Today was just as hot and humid as yesterday, but it was shorter and we were careful to stay hydrated. We feel good, and proud to have conquered the two 17% hills. We also set a downhill speed record of 45 mph for this trip.

August 8- Murphysboro to Bay Creek Ranch, IL

Just for once we awoke to cloudy skies but no rain. We got started at 8:30 and as we worked our way east and south, ominous clouds loomed over our right shoulder.

At 11:30 we started hearing rumbles of thunder. We passed a farm with an open barn and two men outside working. Sandy asked if we shouldn't stop and ask for shelter in their barn. I assured her that was premature. It was just long enough for us to descend a steep hill before we got hit by a vigorous thunderstorm. By the time we struggled back up to the farm we were both soaked and the two farmers were safe and dry inside their house. As we got inside the barn Sandy suggested, "The next time I..."  The lightning, thunder and torrential rain continued for a long time. The farmer and his son came out at one point to move a trailer into a field, giving me a chance to ask retroactively for permission to be there. No problem, of course. We settled down to wait out the weather, and at one point we both nodded off while the rain pelted the metal roof above us. 

After two hours, the rain finally stopped and we were on the road again. The storm left the road steamy and slick, so we held our speed down, and by the time we finished lunch at the next town, Goreville, it was 3:30 and we still had a long way to go. The road was a series of sharp hills which would have been a challenge anytime, but in this case we were still reluctant to let 'er rip on the downhills, while the climbs were a steam bath. I think I had gotten lazy about drinking early in rides, and this time we paid the price- at least I did for sure.

The only accommodation available other than camping was a ranch one mile off the route. It was 6:30 by the time we reached it, after 60 miles for the day, and we felt worse than any day I can remember. All we wanted to do was drink and rest.

The ranch itself was a great treat. The resident horses and cats were friendly. We had a four-bedroom lodge all to ourselves, Our hostess went out of her way to get us set up comfortably. Earlier in the day,knowing there would be no restaurant dinner available, Sandy had bought fixings for a spaghetti dinner, and it was delicious. We had no cell signal or wifi or TV. I couldn't write the blog post. It was an early bedtime for tired riders, after a couple of ibuprofens and a rubdown with Aspercreme. A high-volume chorus of frogs, crickets and other critters did not keep us up.

August 7- Ozora, Mo. To Murphysboro, Ill.

A long and varied day, with a couple of milestones.

Once again, a large patch of thunderstorms came through during the night, and we were in the middle of it when we woke up; the lightning was past but it was still raining hard. We began to think about a Plan B for the day, since Plan A was for a 60-mile trek to Murphysboro. The only shorter option was 20 miles to Chester, Ill, but we weren't even sure we could get on the road at all. We might be stuck another 24 hours in a crummy motel with no sports on TV and rain in the forecast for all the next week.

Happpily, the rain did let up, and we got on the road at 10:30, hoping we could at least get to Chester before the next patch of thunderstorms caught us. The roads were wet, and Missouri threw a few last good little hills at us. We emerged onto the flat floodplain of the Mississippi under cloudy skies but no more rain.

We had been warned by another cyclist that the narrow 2-lane Chester bridge across the Mississippi was not ideal for bikes, but we got a break: there was construction on the bridge and traffic was limited to one direction at a time. So we had plenty of room for our crossing into Illinois.

Chester is a large blue-collar river port town which prides itself on being the hometown of Popeye's creator. We stopped for lunch at the first cafe we found, and thought about our plan for the afternoon while we ate. The weather radar was clear and neither of us was willing to stop for the day, especially with the possibility of bad weather for the next several days. The next possible stop was still Murphysboro, 39 miles, with a choce of two routes. One tracked away from the river on quiet country roads. The alternate sounded more interesting to us, following the levee, with fewer hills but also with a warning of "moderate to heavy traffic." Little did we know that the state highway along the river was a major route for trucks carrying coal to a barge depot five miles from Chester. The line of trucks was almost continuous and the road was just wide enough for two trucks to pass but no room for us. A couple of times we were crowded off the road entirely. It was so tough going that each of us was silently considering turning back to Chester. But once we got past the barge depot the trucks disappeared and it was pleasant riding. Soon after, we turned onto a smaller road and then up onto the levee itself. We rode that for several miles with the river on our right and large corn and soybean fields stretching away across the floodplain on our left.

About 4 o'clock we stopped for a cold soda at a bar and grill at the little town of Neuner, where the locals warned us not to get caught near there after dark. I thought maybe it was a Deliverance thing, but they meant that the mosquitos would carry us away.

The road remained flat almost all the way to Murphysboro and we made good time. This was the first time of the entire trip that we had a stretch of smooth flat road without wind.

In the marshes along the levee we saw quite a few white egrets. Though common at home, tese were the first we've seen on this trip, Great blue herons are to be seen everywhere.

By the time we reached Murphysboro and found a motel it was after six o'clock, so we showered and walked to a nearby Mexican restaurant for a relaxing drink and dinner.

Today's milestones: we crossed the Mississippi River, we went over 3000 miles for the trip so far, and we finished the ninth week of our trip. 3024 miles, 96,252 feet of climbing.

The first picture below is looking back across the Mississippi at Missouri. The other is the levee and a big coal depot. Trains and trucks bring coal from mines in the area where the coal is piled up and then moved by conveyor over the levee to barges on the river. The coal pile in view is the smallest of about six. One more picture- all through Missouri, there were road signs marking our route as part of the proposed U.S. Cycling Route system. The signs were very helpful, and we hope other states follow suit.

August 6- Farmington to Ozora, Mo.

Since our bike would not be ready for us at the bike shop until at least late morning, we wanted to sleep as late as possible. Of course, that meant we were up shortly after six.
Once again a large area of thunderstorms had moved across southern Missouri during the night. About 50 miles to our west, in fact, heavy rain caused so much flooding that at least one life was lost. By the time we got up, the rain was nearly past us.

FedEx delivered our new shifter to the shop bright and early, so the bike was ready by noon. We really appreciated their putting all other projects aside to get our bike fixed, and their bill was very reasonable. It took several adjustments and test rides before the new equipment was all dialed in, but finally we grabbed some lunch and got on the road at 1:30. By then the roads were dry and the sun was breaking through.

The road worked generally to a lower elevation as we rode east from Farmington. There were a few sharp hills in the 10-12% range, but not as many as in the previous several days. We continue to ride through hardwood forests and small farms. There is not much traffic on most of the narrow roads, but the curves, hills, and lack of a shoulder mean that some cars and trucks have trouble seeing their way clear to pass us. We have been impressed with how patient they are; we in turn wave them around as soon as we can see ahead.

With the late start we knew our mileage would be limited, and our stop was at Ozora, about 20 miles west of the Mississippi River. We had time to go a bit farther, to St. Mary, but we could not get in contact with the one lodging there, a B&B, and we couldn't risk begging someone to let us pitch our tent in their yard. In the rain. So we diverted a couple of miles to Ozora and a cheap motel by the Interstate.

You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone, and that is definitely true for a bike which does not shift gears as it should. It is a great pleasure to have it working right once again, and good to be back on the road after our third day off of the trip.

August 5- at Farmington, Mo.

We rode in a steady rain from our motel to the bike shop, and were there when it opened at 10 a.m. The young mechanic, L.T., was manning the shop alone today, but the rain kept away other customers while he worked on our bike.

L.T. was able to get the front derailleur fixed, so that now we can shift between the two chainrings, but as I had feared, the shifter for the rear derailleur is shot. We had him order a replacement with overnight delivery. The prospect of a rest day was agreeable to us anyway.

Across the street from the bike shop, the city has converted the old town jail into a hostel specifically for cyclists passing through on the transamerica trail. We had been joking we've stayed in every imaginable type of accommodation, but this is our first jail. It is fitted out with private bedrooms with linens, a comfortable lounge area with cable TV, a full kitchen, and a computer with a high speed connection. All for a requested donation of $20 per person. We should live here.

Our niece Carol's husband Brian grew up in Pilot Knob, the next town west of here, and Brian's father Ancel still lives near there. Carol put us in touch with Ancel and Brian's sister Heather. We had never met them before, but they graciously invited us to lunch today. Shortly after noon they (and Heather's daughter Maddie) picked us up and we had a great time getting acquainted with them and learning about this beautiful area. Really nice people; we liked them a lot. Ancel asked where we got the idea of such a bike trip. They probably think we're crazy.

We passed through Pilot Knob yesterday on the way here. It is an attractive town, previously an iron and lead mining center, and also was the site of a civil war battle. In fact. Ft. Davidson there was U.S. Grant's first command post as a general. Ancel is very content to have lived there all his life.

After lunch it was back to jail for a lazy afternoon.

Late this afternoon we were joined at the hostel by another cyclist, Samuel, who lives in Montreal. He is also heading east, but on a much faster track than we are. He covers 120-150 miles per day. What we covered all last week he rode yesterday and today. We don't want to imitate that, but we do admire it. Samuel had a scary experience today: he was chased by a pack of about six feral dogs. We take comfort in the thought that he will be riding ahead of us.

If the bike is ready to go early enough, we'll try to get at least a short way down the road tomorrow. But rain is threatening again. In fact, the forecast is for some thunderstorms each day for the rest of the week. They have gotten much more rain this year than normal, which has been true for everywhere we've been, except for the notoriously rainy Columbia River valley, where we had nothing but sunny skies. 

August 4- Centerville to Farmington, Mo.

Sandy says we should say "Centerville to the Promised Land" since we have been nursing our ailing bike to Farmington for the last four days.

The first 15 miles of today's 45-mile ride were reminiscent of yesterday's steep hills, though there were not as many of them. After failing on hills twice yesterday, we were feeling more humble, even vulnerable. But we got over the top on all of today's challenges, including one triple hill of 14%,15%,16%. And then, just about the time we decided today would be all hard riding, it was over. The hills were much gentler all the way to Farmington. Who knows what lies ahead? The elevation profile on our map shows it generally downhill all the way to the Mississippi River, but there may be some short, steep stingers in the meantime.

Near the end of our ride we met a west-bound cyclist, the first in several days. Xiao An, AKA Paul, is a jolly young man from near Hong Kong, riding alone from New York to San Francisco. He assured us the road ahead was pretty flat. We opened our mouths to tell him what lies ahead in his direction, but toned it down so as not to discourage him.

Tomorrow we take our bike to the shop for repair, however long that takes.

August 3- Eminence to Centerville, Mo.

A thunderstorm came through in the early hours, and it was still raining hard when we got up, so our start was delayed until 10 o'clock.

We decided to name the first section of this day's ride, 27 miles from Eminence to Ellington, "The Trail of Tears".

Right out of Eminence our legs got their wakeup call, a short 13% hill. After that it was one right after another in the 10%-13% range. We were beginning to feel that we could grind our way over just about anything. Well no, we couldn't. Our first downfall was running out of steam on a 15% hill. We couldn't restart on a grade that steep, so we had to push the bike to the top of the hill; the first time we have ever had to do that.

But not the last. Not long afterward we hit a 3-step hill of 13%, 15% and finally 18%. We had to stop on the last of those and push the bike again. The limiting factor was not running out of breath or tiring, but simply the leg strength needed to turn the cranks against the force of gravity. We later did get over a 15%'er without stopping.

We wonder how roads like these in the Ozarks came to be. They go right over hills instead of around them. If the roads originated as wagon tracks, pity the horses or oxen. It is even hard to imagine that cars and trucks in their early days had the power to carry loads up such steep hills. And if it ever snows around here, forget it.

At the town of Ellington we turned onto a different highway which was built to avoid such steep climbs. After a total of 46 miles for the day we reached our destination, the little town of Centerville. We had called ahead to reserve a spot at the Butterfly Inn, a recently-opened "Bed and Breakfast: You Make Both". After what was our hardest day of the whole trip so far, it was a welcome  oasis. We had the use of a whole comfortable 4-bedroom house. It also featured something we have not seen since we began: a bathroom scale. Sandy has lost four pounds. I've lost eight. Our host was a little younger than we are, a Vietnam vet who stayed in the Army to retirement and had a second career with Homeland Security, working with teams which provided relief at all the big disasters, including tghe Oklahoma City bombing, 9-11 in New York, Katrina, and most recently the Oklahoma tornado this year.

Just around the corner there was a diner and also a little store where we picked up some cold adult beverages to reward ourselves.

August 2- Houston to Eminence, Mo.

The weather map this morning showed a big area of thunderstorms NW of us, heading our way. We hustled to get on the road, in the hope that we could get our miles in before it caught us. There was no question of outrunning the storm; as I like to say, we couldn't outrun a fire hydrant.

Today's 46-mile ride was more of the Ozark terrain: winding road over challenging short hills, through woods and past small cornfields and pastures.

Our problems with shifting gears are still with us, but my backhand shifting technique has improved enough that I can perform it without weaving, so we have made an uneasy temporary truce with the bike. Sandy thinks I should put in a defensive explanation, lest anyone think the bike falling apart is a result of abuse, lack of preparation, or deferred maintenance. Before starting on our trip I replaced the tires, brake pads, both chains, all the chainrings, and the rear cassette. Then I took the bike in to ABC Bicycles for a complete overhaul. They took the bike completely apart, inspected, cleaned, reassembled and adjusted everything. During the trip I have done a pre-ride inspection every day, lubed the chains frequently, and adjusted the brakes and derailleurs as needed. The fact remains, long-distance touring is hard on a bike, especially a tandem.

The captain and stoker, on the other hand, are holding up well. We are happy with the way we are riding these days, fighting up hills which I am sure we couldn't have a few weeks ago. A few miles before our destination today, though, we hit a hill which required a break to catch our breath. It was a 13% grade, followed by a few yards not as steep, then a 14%'er, another false flat, and finally a 15% grade. We took a break before that final one, which was the steepest road we have ridden in the U.S.

Over the last few days, several dogs have chased us. I yell at them and Sandy says soothingly "Good doggie, go home." That confuses them and we have had no trouble. Today one young dog chased us and just wouldn't quit. We were climbing a hill, so he had no problem keeping up or happily running circles around us. In fact at one point he took a break to go lift his leg on a fence post, and didn't lose more than a step or two. He must have stayed with us for at least five or ten minutes. He never barked. We were worried he would be hit by one of the passing cars and trucks, several of which slowed way down for him. Finally we crested the hill and sped away from him. About an hour later, as we rode into the town of Eminence, there were a couple of men standing by a truck on the roadside. One saw us and shouted, "Did you finally get rid of the dog?"

We not only beat the rain to town, we had time for a good lunch before retreating to our room for a shower and nap.

Eminence is a very attractive town with an economic base: it is a popular center for canoeing, rafting, and tubing on the beautiful rivers in the area. In fact, since we are getting into a summer weekend, we had a little trouble finding a motel room here. That's a change: the only other motel guests in most of the towns we have visited are other cyclists, utility contractors, and oilfield workers. Eminence has several restaurants and a saloon. What more could we ask?