tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692959077941898132024-02-07T17:48:37.911-08:00Pedal 4 Wildlife II BlogThis is the blog page for Paul Rudershausen's cross-country bike ride to benefit wildlife in coastal North Carolina. Through this extreme fundraising adventure, he will donate 100% of the proceeds raised to the Outer Banks Wildlife Shelter in coastal North Carolina.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger90125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-58745254988558922082013-02-11T19:45:00.001-08:002013-02-16T12:57:50.792-08:00P4W2 Day 37 Salt Mine Wallace-Morehead City, NC 92 milesFor a period of time today, the road conditions were as I would have scripted them: rainy and windswept but otherwise quiet. I was able to lose myself in a series of daydreams...essential nourishment for one's soul. I thought about the many miles behind me across this beautiful land. Pedaling through Mojave moonscapes, the sun-soaked climb into the lovely Davis Mountains of West Texas, and the tranquility of the Natchez Trace: these memories will stay with me for a long time. <br />
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I have many people to thank for making this journey a reality. Thanks to my parents, C.G. and M.E. Rudershausen, and my siblings, Chuck, Bonnie, and Sara, for their support and encouragement of my ride. I want to thank the OWLS director, Trish Slape, for being game for another fundraising ride for the shelter. My boss, Dr. Jeff Buckel, graciously gave me time off from a busy work schedule. Chris Whitlock's many words of encouragement and hog bars were carefully planted to provide me a maximum boost of 'umph' when I needed it the most. And thanks to my many faithful e-mailers and texters that gave me regular words of support. They kept me going when my legs started to fail.<br />
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I would like to thank all the donors to the Outer Banks Wildlife Shelter through Pedal 4 Wildlife II. Your generosity will be put to use to revamp the pool that houses brown pelicans that come into OWLS from all over eastern North Carolina. You, the donors to OWLS, really gave my ride as bedrock sense of purpose and motivated me through seemingly endless miles of hills and headwinds.<br />
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I was able to bike across the continent with really sub-par bike mechanic skills. Despite my love of biking, it's simply something I have not mastered, far from it! So I am thankful particularly for the shop that sold me a wonderful bike and trustworthy components - Downingtown Bike Shop (Downingtown, PA). Ken and George have always provided me wonderful service. I committed their phone number to memory many years ago, and called them 'cold' many times during my ride this winter. I also thank the shops I visited on the 'spur of the moment' and who unflinchingly gave me wonderful service: Hi Tec (San Diego), Gila Hike and Bike (Silver City, NM), Crazy Cat (El Paso), Arrowhead Bicycles (Kyle, TX), Trippe's Western Auto (Natchez, MS), and Cycle Therapy (Rome, GA).<br />
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In an era when bikers and bike lanes are unfortunately still way too uncommon, I am pleasantly surprised and very thankful that the vast majority of motorists gave me space on the road. I could not have asked for, or been provided, better road etiquette by almost every one of the tens of thousands of drivers that passed me between the two oceans that bound this wonderful country of ours.<br />
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Finally, a message to those of you that have considered a big journey of your own. A journey like this stirs rare, priceless, and powerful emotions. Completion of a trip like this can have an everlasting benefit on one's soul. If you've ever considered a big journey like this, whether it be carried out by the mind or the muscles, or both, have faith in your plan. Do not let natural human trepidation derail your visions. Dream big, believe in yourself, and go for it!<br />
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<i><q cite="http://quotationsbook.com/quote/14780/">I think over again my small
adventures, my fears, Those small ones that seemed so big. For all the vital
things I had to get and to reach. And yet there is only one great thing, the
only thing. To live to see the great day that dawns, and the light that fills the
world.</q></i> -Inuit song<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://s3.chuug.com/chuug.twitthis.scripts/twitthis.js"></script>
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-1346158025173196192013-02-10T15:41:00.000-08:002013-02-10T15:41:11.034-08:00P4W2 Day 36 Stretching for the Atlantic III Laurinburg - Wallace, NC 102 milesLast night I spoke to my boss and his wife, Jeff and Christine Buckel. They had a novel idea to drive down the road to meet me, and then one of them hop in the truck while the other let me draft off of them for my second-to-last day on P4W2.<br />
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This turned out to be a great idea. Jeff and Christine, thank you! When they first met me, I felt like....well, a picture is worth a thousand words. Either over-eating the night before (another 5000 ish calorie dinner) or the four waffles, five cups of OJ, and two cups of coffee this morning were not sitting well with me.<br />
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We ditched the four paniers in the truck - suddenly I was 60 pounds lighter! And I drafted off of Jeff and Christine for essentially the rest of the day. That really helped to take the bite out of the east wind that confronted us all day long. We crossed numerous cypress swamps and blackwater creeks traveling southward towards the long meandering coastlines of the Carolinas. We made several pleasant rest stops along NC Highway 41, which has now taken me fully into the Carolina coastal plain. <br />
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A good day of riding. On a cold clear morning I was able to pedal a few miles just as the sun started warming the South Carolina hills. The frost melted fairly rapidly. It was a clear cloudless sun-splashed day from sun up to sun down.<br />
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The wildlife highlight of the day was raptors - many red tailed and red shouldered hawks were seen today. I was descending one hill today and saw something out of the corner of my eye. A hawk was taking flight about 50 feet from me, with a large black snake in its talons.<br />
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Late in the day I crossed a flagship road in the country - U.S. 1. Ten miles later I made a turn to the north and turned 20 really pleasant miles on a quiet and flat secondary road leading through a mix of forest and farmland near the state border. And just before dark I finally pedaled back into North Carolina. Was it really only a month ago that I left here to start P4W2?<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-58664757967334598332013-02-09T04:57:00.001-08:002013-02-09T04:57:24.524-08:00P4W2 Day 34 Anderson - Chester, SC 99 milesAfter yesterday's beating from the rain I woke up with <br />puffy eyes. I had to blink out a lot of rain drops after<br />giving up on yet another pair of so-called 'anti-fog'<br />sunglasses. <br /><br />After 30 years of pretty enterprising outdoor activities<br />I am still really stunned how much the weather can dictate<br />the terms of the experience. To say that today's ride was<br />different than Day 33 would be an under-statment. This<br />difference was largely due to the rain yesterday, and lack of<br />rain today. I had wanted to stay in the South Carolina<br />Mountains yesterday but glad I dropped south because it was<br />likely a few degrees warmer, which made the sting of rain<br />not quite as bad as it would have been at higher mountain elevations. I would<br />suspect some of the higher passes of the southern Apps got<br />snow yesterday. I hope those AT thru-hikers had a good book and<br />a dry lean-to to park it in during the storm.<br /><br />Today's route wound through some picturesque piedmont roads<br />of western South Carolina. The air was filled<br />with the scent of loblolly pine. The traffic was not too bad. Upon looking<br />back at some photos from the first couple weeks of the trip, I<br />realize that I have definitely accepted a new norm for shoulder<br />widths over the course of the trip; many wide shoulders and<br />deserted roads out west, the exact opposite here! <br />And the desert weather seems like a lifetime ago; I crossed countless<br />muddy streams and rivers that were running high from yesterday's<br />storm.<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-78620059705093620542013-02-07T17:48:00.000-08:002013-02-07T17:48:12.763-08:00P4W2 Day 33 Sky Lake, GA - Anderson, SC 85 miles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Heavy traffic, hard rain, horribly wet, headwind, head down, head east.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://s3.chuug.com/chuug.twitthis.scripts/twitthis.js"></script>
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-46161210756483226762013-02-07T03:43:00.001-08:002013-02-07T03:43:24.054-08:00P4W2 Day 32 Talking Rock - Sky Lake, GA 71 milesDay 32 was a very tough but wonderful day of pedaling. A heavy fog and singing cardinals and phoebes greeted me when I woke this morning. The fog quickly burned off and brought about one of the nicest days of weather of the entire trip...60s, totally clear, and calm. <br />
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I snapped a photo of a Civil War era chimney before I left Talona Creek Campground. And I couldn't resist feeding one of the local horses one of my granola bar...it was consumed as if he was on a bike tour (very quickly!).<br />
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The hills were immediate and intense today. The first 30 miles I covered on pleasantly traffic-free roads. World-class roller coaster rides have nothing on today's ride, and I shifted gears constantly. I was fully in the beautiful Georgia mountains, and going slowly for a long long time.<br />
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Six miles into the ride today I got to a T in the road. I sat there puzzled, for I had not climbed Burnt Mountain and the truck was pointed downhill on the sign. Well, I think the Georgia DOT was playing a joke on me, for the 12 miles posted on the sign was uphill! Turns out the hill signs in the state always have the truck facing the direction that bikers like to see. Don't be fooled into thinking the tough riding is behind you!<br />
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Burnt Mountain was a very tough climb. It was very similar in duration and steepness to Rabbit Ears Pass in Steamboat, Colorado (P4W1, Day 15 ish), except at 6000 feet lower elevation. But Burnt Mountain had the elevation change where I could literally see the lobolly and oak forest give way to one dominated by white pines, rhododendrons, and mountain laurels, the southern terminus of species found even a couple thousand miles to the north. The top of Burnt Mountain even had snow. I felt I was back into winter after a spell in the deep south where it felt like summer was upon me.<br />
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By noon I had made 20 super tough miles and detour off to see beautiful Amicalola Falls State Park, which has a spectacular mountain cascade. And the state park is home to the start of Appalachian Trail, the famous hiking path of the East. The quote on the memorial sums up the wonder of the AT.<br />
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The traffic re-found me later in the day. But I had wonderful mountain views all afternoon as my route paralleled a major spine of mountains in northern Georgia.<br />
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After traveling through several very picturesque mountain towns, I finally made it to Sky Lake, where Gail and Dennis Piccirilli hosted me at their beautiful home in the Georgia foothills. Gail was a volunteer at OWLS and recently retired along with Dennis to a lovely and peaceful spot in the southern highlands. <br /><br />
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By noon today I had made it to Rome, GA, a very busy city in its own right, with traffic issues to boot. Getting frustrated by biking on the sidewalk, I needed a timeout and committed to a slow time-draining ride through downtown. I am glad I did. Unfortunately many downtown squares in America have died and their businesses left to the outskirts, or left altogether. That was not the case in Rome. I got a tip from a local to go visit Trey Smith at Cycle Therapy, a locally owned shop that provided me some really nice, friendly service. Turns out that the road salt way, way back on snowy Day 1 rotted one of my cables. A visit to the bike shop and a local bakery was a good way to forget about the traffic and break up the day. The city was marked by beautiful architecture. Several lovely churches lined the city streets.<br />
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A tailwind after leaving Cycle Therapy let me cover the next 25 miles easily. The trucks lifted me up a bit when they passed. I then crossed through tiny Adairsville, which I later learned had an F-3 tornado go through a week earlier. My point-and-shoot camera wouldn't capture the damage. The destruction to houses and trees was alarming. Two people died from this tornado.<br />
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The late day featured a couple sharp climbs on mountain roads with lighter traffic, clear skies, calm winds, and views of stands of beautiful hardwoods on steep hillsides. With the hills and re-entry into the eastern time zone, I soon realized with the daylight compression that I wouldn't make my destination of Amicalola State Park even an hour after dark. A stop at a country store, consumption of a pint of ice cream, and fish talk (reservoir striped bass) with the owner revealed that one Talona Creek Campground was just five miles away. <br />
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Talona Creek Campground is what you would picture in the Georgia mountains: go to the top of one hill, turn right, and drop down a short but intensely steep hill into a hollow filled with apple trees to get there...the kind of hill you are already hoping you don't have to go back up the next morning (I don't - there's a cryptic dirt road shortcut I plan to take.). The picturesque campground sits right next to - you guessed it - Talona Creek. The owner John Rausch informed me that the creek has several species of rare darters in it. I pulled into the campground right at dark. Over the sound of bluegrass music John and I shot the breeze for an hour in his cabin by the creek. It felt really good to be inside by an oak wood stove fire on a cold Georgia night. It turns out that formidable Burnt Mountain would have blocked my passage to the state park tonight; I am glad I didn't try this climb at night. <br />
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With the rush of cold mountain water by my tent and barred owls calling from the woods, the traffic, at least for a spell of time, felt a like a really long way away. <br />
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Despite a raw day with 40 degree temps and slate gray skies, there were glimpses of spring. Many beds of daffodils had started blooming. It was a weird site having these flowers in bloom but going past countless houses with wood smoke pouring out of their chimneys. The damp cold of the eastern U.S. feels more bone chilling than that of the desert. Many people today asked me if I was cold. I told them that going uphill was fine but downhill was tough with the wind chill factor.<br />
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The Tennessee Valley Authority operates many dams in the U.S. Southeast. The mighty Tennessee River is dammed for much of its course. I crossed the massive Lake Guntersville Reservoir around midday. It was amazing to see dozens of common loons in their winter plumage. The lake was flat calm and they were fishing side-by-side bass anglers in seeming perfect harmony.<br />
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I credit my friend Rachel Bisesi for the photo artwork. Such an all-encompassing photo needs to be accompanied by my all-encompassing appeal for donations to the Outer Banks Wildlife Shelter through Pedal 4 Wildlife II!<br />
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I have roughly one week of pedaling remaining on a 3500 miles bike trip across America. To those of you that have donated, thank you for your support of OWLS! And please pass this message along to friends and colleagues that hopefully will be interested in supporting a wonderful wildlife shelter in coastal North Carolina. If you are following my journey but have not yet donated, I am asking for your support. Remember, all your donation dollars go to support OWLS and their mission to treat sick and injured wildlife.<br />
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Thank you!<br />
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Last night felt like one of the coldest nights of the trip simply because it was pretty cold for camping (25 F) and the air never dehumidified after the rain yesterday. I woke up to a coat of ice on the bike, the paniers, and the road. The slow-rising sun made for pretty lighting on the pond inside the park.<br />
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This morning I said goodbye to the lovely Natchez Trace. I left it like I started on it - I had the road to myself. This re-routing decision to take the Parkway instead of rutted roads to the south enabled me to cover about 10 percent of my cross-continental distance on a beautiful road with great scenery. Maybe someday I'll pedal the northernmost 25percent.<br />
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After I left the Parkway I realized I had to make some uneducated guesses on what roads to take across a populated stretch of the red clay country of northern Alabama. U.S. Highway 72 was not a bad road, had variable shoulder widths, lots of traffic, and some nice tailwinds. <br />
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The highlight of the afternoon was passing by Wheeler National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge had many waterfowl. And I spotted my first belted kingfisher, a species that adorns the bird trail signs in the northern part of the state. <br />
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Dogs are everywhere in the south: dogs that eat dead stuff, stray dogs, dogs that chase bikers, howling dogs at night while people try to sleep, and also a place where they can be laid to rest.<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-29386539476831372452013-02-03T10:35:00.001-08:002013-02-03T10:35:41.477-08:00P4W2 Day 28 Mathiston-Tishomingo, MS 112 milesI was able to make some good miles today on the rolling Natchez Trace. The winds were calm and the skies were gray. The many bird sightings today included pileated and red bellied woodpeckers, wood ducks, turkeys, and brilliantly colored bluebirds.<br /><br />
Then it happened. At around Tupelo the rain started. I got soaked! Cold rain with heavy traffic around the city. I needed a break and Starbucks coffee tasted pretty darn good.<br />
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As quickly as the rain started, after an hour it quit just as suddenly. The skies cleared and I once again had a beautiful afternoon sun-soaked road all to myself north of Tupelo. The lovely Tishomingo State Park greeted me with super cold and clear skies for my last evening in the state of Mississippi.<br />
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Another great pedaling day on the Natchez Parkway.<br />I think that this road has spoiled me for the remainder<br />of the trip! Many pines and oaks line the Parkway.<br />Oaks here are impressively sized. The growth rate<br />of red oaks here looks maybe double the rate in New<br />England, based on the radial spacing between rings here;<br />about 1/2 inch (~ one inch diameter growth per year). <br /><br />I had told Ben Ball at the Talk Station that I thought<br />that I had entered the very fringes of the Appalachians<br />back near Natchez. Now I don't think that was true. Today<br />turned out to be flatter than Day 26. And I noticed that<br />the highest elevation in the state as posted on my map is<br />only 900 feet above sea level. I think that the Apps missed<br />the state of Mississippi. <br /><br />Today I wound through<br />swamp areas with a lot of standing water. I saw many<br />groups of wood ducks, including some of the really brightly<br />colored males. They spook easily but I got quite close to them<br />due to how quiet a bike is on a smooth road. Is it the<br />world's most quiet machine? (at least when the chain is oiled?!).<br />I tried to get close to a big flock of wild turkeys, but<br />they would have none of it. I saw dozens of deer, including<br />several bucks that still had their antlers.<br /><br /><br />Today was also surprisingly cold. A north headwind bit into me<br />all day. The difference in speed between yesterday and today<br />was 2 mph, but it felt more than this. Despite another day<br />with cloudless bluebird skies, the winter hat never left my head.<br />Ironically, it felt warmest today when the wind stopped at around <br />dusk. I think I have advanced farther north than spring. The<br />grass is less green up hear and the vernal pools were mostly<br />quiet of frogs. Great blue herons looked like they were snacking on cold-stunned frogs in these pools. Daffodils along the Parkway looked about 10<br />days away from blooming.<br /><br />Late in the day I got to the historic town of French Camp. I still<br />had a few miles to pedal to my campground, so didn't want to get<br />too far off the Parkway. But this town is right on it. I turned<br />left to a convenience store that had a little side business of <br />southern fried dinners. I got a really nice meal of fried fish,<br />plus boiled stuff which was a welcome change from the batter fried<br />business of LA. Boiled sides included true southern flare - okra (sliminess<br />and all), collards with butter, corn on the cob, and then also fresh<br />cole slaw. The only zany part of my purchase at the store was<br />the pre-packaged coconut pie I bought. In the dark at the campground<br />I was about to lay into one. I noticed through my dim headlamp that<br />this product hadn't left the shelf very often - both pies were covered<br />in a healthy layer of fuzzy green mold! Even my appetite couldn't<br />deal with that type of frosting.<br /><br />On the way back to the Parkway from the store I noticed another<br />side of French Camp. The French Camp Christian Academy maintains<br />some really nice old historic buildings. I wish I had discovered them earlier in <br />the day. I went into the cafe, which was located in an early 1800s cabin.<br />After 80 miles of cold pedaling, I could have napped by the red oak log fire for<br />a few days. It felt great. The ladies sold me my second take out dinner and some first-<br />rate dessert - Mississippi mud cake made from scratch in...Mississippi. I should have asked for 3 or 4 servings. The<br />old oak beam dwellings and exhibits the Academy maintains at French Camp were really<br />well maintained, and a great stop for somebody visiting the Parkway. Before<br />I left to get back on the Parkway for my last 10 miles of pedaling, I sat in<br />the rocking Adirondack chairs on the porch. I would have liked to take one<br />with me - much, much more comfortable than my bike seat! The chain connecting<br />the chairs is to keep bike tourers from getting any ideas.<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-10116859410946615062013-02-01T12:42:00.001-08:002013-02-01T12:42:17.107-08:00P4W2 Day 26 Natchez State Park - Jackson, MS 96 milesA fine day of pedaling on the Natchez Trace Parkway. Just<br />wonderful scenery all day on a well maintained road. I<br />wound through a mixture of hardwood and softwood forests,<br />over rolling terrain. Red-shoulder and red-tailed hawks,<br />bluebirds, red-headed woodpeckers, and nuthatches were all<br />seen in abundance today. In a swamp close to Jackson, I<br />spotted a blue heron rookery; the wispy nests had survived<br />the windstorm a couple days earlier. Many trees had fallen across the road as a result of the storm.<br /><br />What makes the scenery so good along the Parkway is that<br />it is a commercial-free zone. No advertisements. Litter<br />is rare. Lots of well-maintained exhibits and farms along<br />the road. And a super-smooth road surface that makes pedaling<br />easier and quieter. <br /><br />One of my stops today was in front of an historic home in<br />the really sleepy town of Port Gibson. Figured I better<br />take a photo of blooming flowers while I could before I passed<br />them to the north!<br /><br />Lots of folks have asked what I eat. Late in the day I was riding<br />well (read: comfortably!) and spotted a Fresh Market right near<br />downtown Jackson. Taking a loaded touring bike through a rush<br />hour roundabout in the state's biggest city will turn some heads!<br />After several days on small and limited grocery stores, I was <br />overwhlemed in the bountiful Fresh Market; I picked up a real motley<br />crue of stuff that I then ate for dinner; one pound fresh salad,<br />two hard boiled eggs, four stuffed grape leaves, one package (4<br />servings) imitation crab meat (Alaskan pollock), one mango protein smoothie,<br />4 ounces chocolate covered pretzels, one package bagel chips,<br />one quart tangerine juice, one can smoked almonds, and one Pay Day bar. After eating this,<br />the whole loaf of pumpkin walnut bread looked out of place in my<br />tent, so I ate it too. <br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-37751070569735894462013-01-31T15:42:00.001-08:002013-01-31T15:42:27.653-08:00P4W2 Day 25 Simmesport, LA - Natchez State Park, MS 82 miles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />My goal today was to travel north into Mississippi, the 49th state<br />I've to. The route in the morning took me due north.<br />I pedaled on a massive windswept levy of the Mississippi River.<br />Water control and diversion structures were everywhere. It would take a lot<br />of study or a stop in one of the many Army Corp of Engineers offices<br />to determine what all the structures where for and where the water was headed.<br />Many, many birds inhabited the river bottom lands still left flooded;<br />white pelicans, bald eagles, countless hawks, pileated woodpeckers, and wood ducks were all seen today.<br /><br />I made 70 really slow miles as the west wind throttled me full-tilt. In fits<br />and starts I pulled the winter biking garb back out of my bike bags; it <br />had gotten pretty much ignored over the previous week and I had a hard<br />time finding it and then putting it on...once I was on the levy there <br />was no place to stop or hide from the wind over the flat miles to the<br />river crossing. The big bike was a partial blockade from the wind!<br /><br />By mid-afternoon I had crossed the big river on a wide and (now needless to say...)<br />windy bridge. The Mississippi with a cold clearing wind whipping it into a <br />muddy froth, looked pretty intimidating if I was to get blow off the bridge...maybe a 150 foot swan dive.<br />This marked the third time I had crossed the river on my bike trips. In <br />Minnesota, the river is, obviously, considerably smaller. There is a lot of<br />erosion between here and there to create that kind of mud load. Chocolate milk has nothing on the Mississippi this far down.<br /><br />Natchez, MS is a really nice town. It has sweeping views of the river and<br />stately red brick buildings. In a lot of ways it resembles a smaller version of<br />Williamsburg, VA. I had three good stops in town. The folks at a really nice<br />visitors center gave me some route advice. I stopped at the Natchez Coffee Company and<br />gave the owners son a geography lesson on where I had pedaled over the past 3 weeks.<br />And I stopped at Trippe's Western Auto to get my bike tires changed. Chris<br />Trippe, the owner, was a great guy. He told me that his grandfather bought and<br />owned one of the original Western Autos in the 1930s. Chris's store remained<br />an independent franchise after the other stores were taken over by by Sears in a buyout<br />years ago. He had added a bike department to his store due to the popularity <br />of bicycling here.<br /><br />My goal for days was to intercept the historic Natchez Trace Parkway in order to cut through a <br />wide swath of the Deep South on a good road. I had done a bit of homework on the<br />Parkway and read that it was a bikers dream. This is spot-on. Late in the day<br />I finally left town and got on the Parkway for the last 10 miles of riding.<br />A smooth, quiet, and pretty road with great scenery. Dozens of deer hurdled off in front<br />of me. Frogs chirped from river bottoms before their likely re-hibernation due the<br />recent cold snap. I even treed a raccoon that wasn't quite sure what to make<br />of me in the new-found cold twilight. Stately oaks, beeches, hickories, and pines line the Parkway.<br /><br />For folks in my reading audience that may be considering a bike trip of their own, the<br />rolling topography of Natchez Trace might be for you. The scenery is apparently outstanding during spring<br />bloom and fall color seasons. There are lots of places to stay along the Parkway,<br />and motorists appear really cognizant of bikers; for the first time during the P4W2, I had<br />motorists stop in both directions to let a biker past safely. Wonderful!<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-56922801820540147992013-01-30T19:33:00.001-08:002013-01-30T19:33:05.275-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hi Paul from everyone at OWLS - we're all enjoying your ride from your colorful tales of adventure everyday! Thanks for taking us along for the ride!!! We also appreciate you keeping us posted of your progress on the Talk Station WTKF 107.9 every Tuesday and Thursday at 8am - it's been great to hear your voice! We've raised almost $6000 so far for the pelican pool, so we're looking forward for you getting home - not only because we miss your cheerful face around the shelter - but also so we can get down to brass tacks and get started on the long awaited PELICAN POOL!! The Pelicans are waiting!! Be safe and we'll see you soon!!<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-9546337678847387102013-01-29T20:45:00.000-08:002013-01-29T20:45:07.517-08:00P4W2 Day 24 Mittie - Simmesport, LA 104 milesThe roosters from the nearby farm started warming up at 3 AM this morning and were in full chorus by 5. The night air was hot and humid and some mosquitoes escaped my lethal swats in the tent...so the sleep was light and restless. Maybe three good hours. After my radio interview was over I was sliding down the road. Rhett was still in his house; I don't think his level of inebriation was going to lend itself to milking the Holsteins or catching steelhead this morning.<br />
<br />
Today was a rich and varied day of riding across the deep south. It felt like a long day - not only because it was long but because of the tremendous variety of things I saw. Even a flag rooting for the football team from the frozen tundra.<br />
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<br />
<br />
First thing in the morning I made my way down to Oberlin, a sleepy swamp town in the heart of the state. They had a neat sign announcing the entrance into town. I also figured that a second-tier college in Ohio was named after this little hamlet in the middle of a world of water.<br />
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<br />
In Oberlin I bumped into Jim Riley, a sage retired pharmacist that had decided many moons ago to call the sleepy town his home. He treated me to breakfast at the local diner, and I met a number of nice retired folks that told me about their very unique part of the country. <br />
<br />
East of Oberlin the country got abruptly flat. Pine trees gave wave to rice fields and crayfish (crawfish) traps. The season for these crustaceans was just starting with the early spring warm-up, and I saw several fishermen tending their traps. The boat/buggy really is an unusual contraption for navigating through flooded rice fields - kind of like half boat, half car. The metal wheel in the back is for moving through the water as well as over dikes that separate one field from the next. <br />
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<br />
So I weaved among rice fields for about 30 miles today. I saw many many birds, including a peregrine falcon. Gulls, terns, and snow geese inhabited the flooded rice fields. Turtles crossed the road often. I save some from auto tires, but many more had already been squashed. The strongest south wind of the trip blasted my starboard side for about 2/3 of the day. For the other third I had incredible tailwinds that lifted me north by northeast towards the Mississippi River. Moving across the state today was like moving a checker - some east, then north, then east again, etc.<br />
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<br />
Pine was the flare of Day 23 and crawfish the flare of Day 24. In Mamou I stopped into a local fish market. A couple nice college guys told me about fishing for crawfish and how to eat them. So I bought a pound and put them in my panier (the double plastic bag to avoid crawfish juice spillage was a good idea). An hour later I sat down roadside and ate them. I wasn't particularly adept at getting the tail meat out, and ended up impatiently eating the tail just like I do shrimp - Beowuf style (shell and all). And the Cayenne pepper they boil crawfish with - not good for saving one's ration of water while biking with a fearsome crosswind!<br />
<br />
After the town of Ville Platte I abruptly departed the flooded rice fields and pedaled through the really pretty Chicot State Park. That's where the state arboretum is located. I had forgotten how many species of oaks occur in the southeastern U.S.<br />
<br />
The weather was very threatening today, but for the most part held off. With the hot humid air, even given some passing rain bands ahead of an approaching front, I left the rain jacket packed away. The lightning and tornadoes held off. I pressed on through many quaint small towns, across many muddy cypress creeks, and very close to the mighty Mississippi.<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-73357549270223771932013-01-29T07:33:00.002-08:002013-01-29T07:37:02.830-08:00P4W2 Day 23 Silsbee, TX - Mittie, LA 99 milesThe bulk of today was spent in a wide shoulder on<br />
two lane interstate roads. I ran a serious slalom course<br />
all day, weaving in and out of pieces of tires, small rocks,<br />
spark plugs, and a really wide variety of other objects. I even became a packrat and picked up an old pair of pliers. Most<br />
notably, however, I weaved in and out of loblolly pine debris - <br />
chips, bark, sticks, and even some logs. The loblolly is king<br />
around here, and hundreds of trucks passed me enroute to paper<br />
mills and sawmills. It is only fitting that I post a photo<br />
of loblolly bark, very similar in appearance to that of<br />
the ponderosa pines of the Rockies that I traveled through two<br />
weeks ago.<br />
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<br />
That kind of noise I experienced today and days recently past - a south wind whining into my right ear, and trucks whizzing by my left ear, has made studying impossible... I brought a little pocket tape recorder with me to listen to my dry voice remind me of some really laconic fisheries and statistical formulas I need to know. The sound of my own voice reciting some of this stuff also has turned out to be a pretty rough thing to listen to!<br />
<br />
Some of the trucks at stop lights were<br />
close enough to me that on the sawlogs the rings were easy to<br />
count; their wide spacing indicated a growing season that almost<br />
never stops. Here it is in January and I am wishing for a cold<br />
spell. Even the mosquitoes have hatched down here already. Some have invaded through the small cracks in my tent fly and I am swatting away as I write this. <br />
<br />
I said goodbye to Texas and entered Louisiana around midday.<br />
Folks seem friendly here. And the posted speed limit is less than Texas, which sure makes riding less of a rear-view mirror task than it seemed to be on two-laners in Texas.<br />
A week ago I hadn't seen a riverbed with water. Now water is<br />
everywhere. In this low-lying part of Louisiana - just<br />
north of the bayou, the cypress stream are filled with tannin.<br />
So you have tea colored water running over picturesque white sands. The streams are higher due to the really heavy rains these parts received a couple weeks back.<br />
<br />
The nice ladies at the Louisiana welcome center back Merryville called ahead to the White Sands Campground and said that the owner was very talkative. They had a tough time getting him off the phone after making sure the place was open for business - or kind of open for business. And the White Sands Campground is where I found myself for <br />
the night after pulling in around dusk. Rhett Pitre was a very, very colorful camouflage-dressed Louisiana native<br />
that proceeded to charge me zero for the primitive camping (read: no shower) and then tell<br />
me about his life - more or less his whole life. I asked him to substantiate the holes where he was shot many years ago, and there they were. Same goes for where he was hit with a pool stick. I wasn't sure how my request to take a photo of him and his chihuahua would be received so I kept my camera in my jersey. Barred owls<br />
and herons squawked from the nearby river bottom as Rhett talked well into<br />
the night on the porch of his canoe livery. Rhett occasionally punctuated the night air with giddy shrill whistles that would get the attention of dogs barking from farms nearby. He encouraged me to eat all of the fried fish and other fried trimmings that the boys had cooked for him down at their swamp camp. By the end of the evening Rhett had convinced me that he could catch, trap, shoot - or drink - anything the Bayou had to offer. I politely declined his repeated offers to take Bayou sized swigs from his whiskey bottle. I fought off tiredness and swatted bugs until I could resist sleep no longer. I was glad I had a tent; the couch on the porch he suggested I crash on smelled very much like a cross between a wet dog and the deep south fried dinner whose odor had fully permeated my bike clothing.<br />
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Wow. Steinbeck and I could have shared notes on this journey.<br />
<br />
Note to Craig and Greg from the Houston bike club: Great hearing from you guys! And thanks for offer to send photos: my e mail for photo attachments: pjruders@ncsu.edu <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://s3.chuug.com/chuug.twitthis.scripts/twitthis.js"></script>
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-64481793643209197502013-01-27T19:57:00.001-08:002013-01-27T19:57:28.907-08:00P4W2 Day 22 Sam Houston National Forest - Sillsbee, TX 101 milesOne of the most interesting things about a bike trip is that it is a 'blind voyage.' By that I mean that you don't really know what anything is going to be like until you get there. There are exceptions, like well known national parks and such, but for the most part you just see things as you bike to them, without any pre-existing knowledge. The same goes for where you plan to stay each night. In the morning, it kind of goes something like, 'the weather looks good, I am not sure about the winds, the road is pretty flat, my legs are wicked tired but will eventually cooperate, and there's a town like a hundred miles off that I think I'll go for. '<br />
<br />
The camping in Sillsbee couldn't be any more different than last night's quiet sleep under the tall wispy pines in a national forest. I am in an RV park with barking dogs, railroad tracks nearby, and U.S. Highway 96 right next to me. A couple very pleasant southern men needed a bit of computer help this evening, and we took up conversation. One of them asked me which RV was mine. I pointed to the unformed backpacking tent that was laying in the grass between us.<br />
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<br />
My route today took me through loblolly pine flatlands of southeast Texas. I passed a really nice westbound rider from Stockholm. I reckon these parts are different than Sweden (and cheaper!). Strong south winds blew threatening clouds off the nearby Gulf of Mexico all, but the raincoat stayed in the panier for a 22nd straight day. Wood chips lined the side of the road for almost every mile, indicative of the importance of wood products to this part of the state. The motorists were quite pleasant today, given the many narrow roads I found myself on. The many stray dogs left me alone. Some were simply content munching on dead stuff along the side of the road. Trash was plentiful along the roadsides. Robins and bluebirds were active. Spring is definitely here...I saw two magnolias in full bloom. And Ms. Lona, at the cafe that bears her name in Rye, Texas, sold me fried catfish, french fries, and fried okra....southern flare for the first of my 3 dinners tonight. I think I am in the deep south now. She threw me a softball of a question and asked if I wanted homemade peach cobbler with my meal. I should have told her I wanted the whole pan. <br />
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<br />
It really is amazing that I am still in Texas. I would now rank the state as one of the most naturally diverse in the country, behind California but ahead of almost every other state. West Texas, its deserts, and its 50 mile views might as well be on a different planet. Ironically, the one constant over my whole time in Texas was the south wind, which was surprising given that it is the middle of January. Except for an occasional mile or two in Texas, I never got the three perfect cycling conditions all at once - light traffic, a smooth asphalt road, and tailwind; it is a real rarity in bicycling to have these all come together.<br />
<br />
And on my last full day in a really big state, finally a 'biggie' sighting fitting of the state itself.<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-88373773505171341642013-01-27T08:57:00.001-08:002013-01-27T08:57:26.952-08:00P4W2 Day 21 Oldenburg - Sam Houston National Forest, TX 97 miles<br />I was thinking that today would be a repeat of some of yesterday's<br />pickup truck avoidance. The first 20 miles was - heavy traffic and<br />narrow shoulders, even on a Saturday morning. This picture below<br />really captures the essence of biking in East Texas. A narrow two-laned<br />road with minimal shoulders, a blind hill, and a curve after that.<br />Every other state in the nation would have this road posted for 45 mph. You can<br />see the posted speed limit here, and some of the roads just like this over the <br />past couple days have been posted for 70 mph. That's fast driving<br />even for an interstate highway.<br />
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<br />After 20 miles my bike maps routed me on some quieter farm roads, and<br />the day's flare changed considerably. Rolling hills and neat farm<br />country greeted me for the next 40 miles to Navasota. A number of <br />day riders from the greater Houston Bike Club passed me, enroute to <br />doing a day-into-night super stout 200 miler. That is a serious day<br />even with a tailwind. One of the things Texas does right on its<br />highways is to post historical markers (thousands of them in the state). <br />One of old dwellings that I visited<br />was constructed rot-resistant chestnut beams.<br /><br />One of the day riders recommended that I stop into the Independence, TX<br />general store. It was a great bunch of folks there. The owner and I <br />talked at length about the people from many different nations that had been <br />through his store. His logbook chronicled it all. <br /><br />The store owner also told me that he recently heard the local meteorologist<br />claim that winter around here was about over. I was skeptical of this claim<br />but started looking around more. The roadside grasses around here have that<br />kelly-green hue of early spring. Late in the day I entered the very pretty<br />Sam Houston National Forest. It has beautiful stands of tall loblolly pines<br />that had somehow been spared of the saw. Frog sounds were abundant in the <br />creeks, as were slider turtles sunning themselves. Terns fed actively in impounded<br />Lake Conroe. I think spring is here: hard to believe given the cold gripping<br />much of the country. On another 80 degree day, many of the vehicles that drove<br />by had their windows up...seemingly because their AC was on!<br /><br />It's been a wonderfully clear<br />stretch of weather I've had for the trip. I've been waiting for the full moon for a while.<br />It would be fun to ride a few miles tonight with the full moon, but my legs immediately exercised veto power over the idea. <br />
<br />I've seen the moon waxing through cold nights in the desert and now warmer nights as I<br />sit here, finally back in the southeast U.S. <br />My point-and-shoot camera doesn't do it justice, but on a 60 degree clear and breezy January night<br />I had to post a picture of the moon rising above the stately pines in the national forest campground.<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-35249948309665092502013-01-26T12:55:00.000-08:002013-01-26T12:55:07.179-08:00P4W2 Day 20 Kyle - Oldenburg, TX 94 milesIt was amazing how abruptly I pedaled out of the Hill Country<br />first thing this morning upon crossing I-35. The land east<br />of there is much flatter. And the southeast type weather<br />is in east Texas - hot and humid. Today was 85 F. I can only imagine<br />what it would be like in the summer here. <br /><br />Many sights and sounds became familiar to me today. When an increasingly<br />greater amount of traffic wasn't rumbling by, I heard cardinals, <br />chickadees, and a tremendous number of bluebirds. Red tailed hawks<br />were a familiar sighting. I even saw a crested caracara, a bird I had<br />not seen since my last time in south Florida. Trees we are familiar <br />with in the east that I passed today included hickories, white oaks,<br />and my first loblolly pines of the trip.<br /><br />The vibe of East Texas is dramatically different than West Texas from<br />a biker's perspective. Here bikes are UFOs (unwanted fleeing objects).<br />One full sized truck-trailer today unleashed his horn on me from a mere<br />five feet away. Bike shops have some real start-up spirit about them in east Texas...seems like a tough place to bike!<br /><br />Today I passed two historic courthouses. One was located in Lockhart,<br />the other in LaGrange. Both of these late 19th century limestone buildings<br />were several stories tall and had very pretty bell towers. These stately structures<br />really framed the town squares. La Grange has a quilting museum with very<br />tasteful murals on the west side of its building.<br />
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-15134592461243685232013-01-24T20:53:00.000-08:002013-01-24T20:53:20.402-08:00P4W2 Day 19 Kerrville - Kyle, TX 101 milesToday felt like the longest day of the tour so far. Changes of weather and scenery and road conditions. This day had it all. In the morning I started rolling in cool, dense fog and made 20 easy flat miles to Comfort. Mesillas felt like a textbook New Mexico town last week; Comfort felt like a textbook Texas small town today. It had stately 19th century limestone buildings in its historic district. Enough money was being put into the old part of town to maintain it and several very tasteful shops that sold me several thousand calories of pastries. Skeeter the reconstruction builder took my photo in front of the old Comfort saloon (with its original windows intact from the 1870s). I pointed to where I thought I was in Texas, pretty meager after a week of hard pedaling! The Adventure Cycling Association Southern Tier bike route is not the straightest route across the country, but has largely kept me off the interstate highways and exposed me to the true flare of the land. Comfort, Sisterville, Blanco, and Wimberley were all very nice, tasteful towns
that I passed through today. The countryside had that savannah-type
feel: grassland broken by scattered live oaks and junipers. The smell of juniper permeated the air today.<br />
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It was unbelievably hot today. No sooner did I leave Comfort than I spotted a red shouldered hawk - my first of the trip - nest building high atop a cypress tree overlooking the river. Which season is this supposed to be!? And why am I carrying winter gear across the country? With the bulk of the nation gripped in cold, I wished the sun to go away. I suspect it got to 85 F today, mighty hot given a really challenging roller coaster of a ride across the eastern half of the Hill Country. The heat really took some energy out of me today, especially over the last 80 miles of the day. <br />
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I am starting to wonder if there is a way out of Texas. The great folks at Arrowhead Bicycles in Kyle, TX fit me in on short notice this evening for a quick check of the bike. They changed my chain, my third of the trip...a sure sign I have been mashing the pedals pretty hard. But while I was there I made the mistake of looking at the Texas map. Phew! <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://s3.chuug.com/chuug.twitthis.scripts/twitthis.js"></script>
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<!-- TWIT THIS BUTTON --></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-569295907794189813.post-13459300681948546532013-01-24T07:48:00.003-08:002013-01-24T07:48:56.789-08:00P4W2 Day 18 Campwood - Kerrville, TX 95 miles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today was a markedly different day than Day 17. I entered the Texas Hill Country first thing in the morning. It was very pretty land. The limestone rock give it the appearance of the<br />Kentucky hills - the famous bourbon country - south of Louisville. I was routed on very quiet, litter-free roads that were often very steep. My goal was not to stop on any of the hills today after a tough slog yesterday. I was only<br />partially successful: I got off the bike going downhill at one point, fearful that a rough road and a steep descent was a potential<br />recipe for a broken something or another (but probably nothing I haven't broken before). Keeping the bike from getting away from me was a chore all unto itself on the downhill<br />pictured here. And the weather today: on the steep ascents I searched out the shade today. 80 degrees in mid-January! What a change from a week earlier when I woke at the base of Emory<br />Pass, NM to frozen everything.<br /><br />It really is amazing how quickly the climate has changed. In just about 100 miles by the crow-fly I've moved from desert scrub<br />into beautiful rolling hills full of junipers and live oaks. Many of the creek bottoms now hold water. I crossed the Frios and Guadalupe Rivers today; these are gin-clear limestone creeks<br />whose banks are lined with sycamore and bald cypress trees. <br />
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Even the towns were pretty today. Ingram is a nice town on the banks of the Guadalupe River that had tasteful murals chronicling the history of the area. There were some comical billboards<br />to help take my mind off of tired legs.<br /><br />Today I also noticed a change in the bird life. Many of the species we are familiar with on the east coast were seen in abundance today:<br />mockingbirds, cardinals, and chickadees. I also saw bluebirds (likely the western bluebird), scrub jays, and a couple large flocks of wild turkeys. <br /><br /><br />I can't leave the Hill Country without commenting on public lands. In the second largest state in the country, I am amazed to find so little public<br />land. The Hill Country - as lovely as it is - is lined with 'No Tresspassing' signs and high barbed<br />wire fences that parallel every road in the area. The seemingly endless miles of fence - to keep people out and huntable mammals in - gave me a greater appreciation for public spaces in other parts of the country - spaces that all folks can access for their recreational enjoyment. Texas needs more places like these - and less<br />barbed wire - but I am not holding my breath for things to change anytime soon. <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://s3.chuug.com/chuug.twitthis.scripts/twitthis.js"></script>
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The first 60 miles were flat, bleak, and trashy. Unfortunately, the best part of Del Rio was looking at it in the rear-view mirror. I needed some comic relief, and little did I know it would come in the form of a package waiting for me in the Bracketville, Texas post office. My friend Chris sent me a nice sized bag of Hog bars, along with a good dose of his very original humor. I was laughing so hard that the the postmaster wished me to leave her zip code.<br />
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After Bracketville, with 70 tough miles completed, I think I subtly said goodbye to the American southwest and said hello to the Texas hill country. The scenery got pretty again. I saw many deer, wild turkeys, and armadillos in just a few hours of late day pedaling. Great horned owls hooted in the distance during one of many stops to eat still more food (~10,000 calories today, only 6 of 15 Hog bars left as I write this). I got into river bottoms full of live oaks, of course an evergreen species familiar to folks who live or visit along the U.S. South Atlantic coast. And I even crossed a couple shady spots with hickory trees, another sure sign that the P4W2 miles in the great American desert are about behind me.<br />
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The net elevation change to Del Rio is downhill. But Highway 90 crossed multiple side canyons entering the lower Rio Grande, so the route today was a roller coaster affair. And then, there was the old fickle wind. Today it blasted me head-on for the entire day. Westbound truckers driving at or above the 75 mph speed limit would hit me with their own dose of headwind. I buried my head into my left shoulder a lot today, to avoid get a pushback from the truck wind blasts while steering the bike using the rearview mirror.<br />
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When I finally relegated myself to a slow slog across the desert, I noticed a bunch of things. This part of Texas, with the exception of dry river canyons, really flattens out. And gradually things turned greener today. And for the first time since Day 1 I even saw actual clouds. I suspect that the climate is slowly changing, finally influenced by the Gulf of Mexico. <br />
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Today lacked wildlife. Or perhaps my head was facing the pavement longer than usual. But this area has some beautiful limestone rocks that are used for home flooring and furnishings. One of my procrastination stops featured really pretty tables and benches made of limestone blocks... likely weighing pretty close to my bike today. <br />
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This is a quiet part of Texas where I find myself, and very peaceful when the trucks aren't rumbling by. The air is still desert-clean and the stars are shining. It seems torn between climates. A chill is in the night air, reminiscent of the cold and snowy Davis Mountains just 100 miles back. But crickets are chirping in the middle of January, indicating that the sub-tropical climates of the Texas Gulf Coast can't be all that far away.<br />
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I then passed through Alpine, another tidy west Texas town. The water and the fish are lacking in these parts, but the wildlife is really amazing. This morning's best sighting was a flock of wild turkeys right along the side of the road. Roll by and they are happy. Stop and they are gone. <br />
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By midday I find myself in Marathon, another quaint town in Texas mountain country that is the gateway to Big Bend National Park. Over lunch a couple cowboys instructed me on how to find all heads of cattle on ranches thousands of acres in size. I felt the contrasting lifestyles, perhaps they did too: cowboy hats and boot spurs vs. sun burned legs and biking tights. This really is a diverse land of ours.<br />
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The afternoon featured the wide open southwest spaces that have dominated my life for the past couple of weeks. From Marathon, I actually had a double marathon on the almost deserted US Highway 90 in order to make it to my destination, Sanderson. If one is claustrophobic out here, don't live back east. All afternoon I could see 50-plus miles in every direction, including all the way down to the Chisos Mountains in Big Bend Park. In a strange turn of weather, I was actually glad it was not any warmer for a long ride. What a change from just a few days earlier.<br />
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The desert wildlife continued to impress me: javelinas, white tailed deer, numerous hawks, and my first pronghorn antelope of the trip were all spotted over the last 50 miles of the day.<br />
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Sanderson is a small town that is 75% vacated. One of the locals informed me that this area is in the midst of a severe decade-long drought. The feel of the town kind of fit the feel of this windy, dry and barren land deep in the heart of Texas.<br />
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