No Sooner
No sooner had I returned to my precious home and I’m spending a night in Victoria, MN, at Cyndie’s brother’s house. It made the most logistical sense. After getting the majority of the mowing done on my first day home, I spent yesterday morning trying to clean my bike and camping gear before it was time to dash to the Cities for a grand birthday event planned by Cyndie and her siblings for their mom.
They rarely do anything small, so the guest list was no less than 100 for an afternoon soirée that included a live band and enough appetizers to feed more than twice the revelers in attendance. This morning, a family brunch is occurring in Victoria, so I left my car in Bloomington, MN, to travel with Cyndie (and all the foodstuffs she prepared in advance) to sleep at her brother’s house.
There was a momentary panic last night when the cooler with the egg bake and caramel rolls looked like my tent in the flash flood due to melted ice, but it appears the water damage was limited to the packaging and not the food.
The horses are being tended to by one of our trusty hires from the nearby University of Wisconsin, River Falls, for last night’s and this morning’s feedings. Asher has been granted his own retreat at his trainer’s kennel to give Cyndie one less thing to manage around the weekend events.
I’m feeling a little like a soldier trying to return to the world. My mind is still with my four comrades entrenched in the struggles to survive harsh elements in an unfamiliar place. It’s a different frame of reference when you have to pedal your way in extreme heat for extended miles to reach a destination.
Finding myself suddenly in a bustling social situation of ease and luxury feels rather incongruent.
Standing among the horses and rubbing up against them yesterday morning took a lot less effort.
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Happily Home
Gee, but it’s good to be back home. First of all, our dew point temperature is significantly lower than it was in Missouri. It actually feels like September here, with the cool evening, warm afternoon, brisk wind, and lowering angle of sunlight yesterday creating a distinct feeling of autumn. The rain that fell here while I was riding the Katy Trail has greened things up considerably.
Cyndie captured this gorgeous shot of the horses backlit by the twilight sky.
Now that’s a field that looks worth grazing.
I spotted one of her sunflowers with an echo of the actual sun in the background.
The wind picked up significantly in the afternoon while I was mowing. The north loop trail was clear when I gave it a clean cut, but after lunch, I found it blocked by a fallen tree.
It was a dead pine tree that we had let a grapevine climb, so no big loss as far as we are concerned.
Sometimes, the beauty of Wintervale causes me to question why I ever leave.
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Flash Flooded
Wednesday, we reached Marthasville, MO, where we had reservations to tent in their ballpark after a 55-mile pedal on our fourth day of extreme heat and humidity. Their tractor for grooming the infield had me missing home a little bit.
Before we retired to our tents for the night, we were aware of an approaching thunderstorm. Having tented through many storms, we weren’t overly concerned. We had been told we could set up our tents anywhere except within the field, so we opted for just outside the fence. I was looking forward to some moisture to settle the dust and maybe calm the triple-digit heat indexes.
Despite my overly full stomach from too much pizza for dinner and the sauna-like conditions keeping me sweating in my tent, I was able to doze into a short slumber before the storm fireworks started. It was a doozy. The frenetic flashes of lightning and heavy booms of thunder were the side dishes to the main course of incredibly heavy rain.
Bob was the first one to bail out of his leaking tent to stand under the solid roof of the pavilion, followed soon after by Rich and Steve as they became aware of the rising floodwaters. I could hear some commotion of their rearranging of picnic tables and noticed their lights occasionally hitting my tent, but I didn’t notice any drips and was dry on my sleeping pad, so I planned to fall back to sleep and ride out the storm.
When I saw my phone light up with a text from Bob asking if I was dry, I reached out to feel the floor before replying. The floor of my tent felt like a waterbed. With barely contained panic, I grabbed my sleeping pad and neck pillow and wrestled my way out of the two zippers of the tent door and the rainfly to join the others under the pavilion roof.
They kindly offered to join me in the few steps to the tent during the downpour to collect the rest of my belongings. Moments later, the experience was repeated for Curt. Our tents were sitting in about 6 inches of water in a new lake that covered much of the outfield.
The rest of the night was spent trying to get a modicum of sleep on top of picnic benches. We were all a good measure short of a proper night’s slumber. Morning allowed us to get a better view of the previous night’s drama. Although the water had receded significantly, the lake on our tent side of the outfield fence hadn’t completely disappeared.
With more heavy rain on the way and the likelihood of the Katy Trail being littered with branches and washouts, we opted to pack up our wet gear and end our trip a day early.
After a long shower last night, I slept in my own bed again and thoroughly enjoyed being cool and dry all night long.
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Not Sticks
I was warned long ago that snakes are frequently reported on the Katy Trail. Not being a fan of snakes, it wasn’t the best message I’ve ever received, but figured the talk might be exaggerated a bit.
Riding in a group, the common practice is to point out hazards in the road/trail to alert riders behind you.
There were a lot of sticks littering the trail all week, but the only snake we had come upon was a dead one …until yesterday.
I was on the left side, just ahead of Curt, rolling along at 14 miles per hour. At that speed, there’s really only a fraction of a second to make decisions when something suddenly comes into view.
The stick was about 5 feet long and lying perfectly across the trail. By the time I sensed it might not be a stick, there was no choice but to hold my line and try to avoid panicking.
As my wheel met little resistance, I screeched “SNAKE!”
Curt announced that it was alive because it instantly picked up its head and turned toward me. Luckily, I was moving fast enough to be already gone. My adrenaline boosted the bike speed to escape velocity.
Follow-up research points to it being a black rat snake.
A short time later, another snake was more to one side and I had changed my thinking to see any stick as a threat. I dodged it with a quick zig-zag maneuver.
Why did I have to be the one to have the closest encounter? The Universe is keeping me on my toes, I guess.
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Making Connections
On an adventure like the one we are on, it is not uncommon to find kindred spirits out enjoying all that comes with days-long bicycling trips.
I volunteered to be the sag driver yesterday, which gave me plenty of spare time to fill.
That gave me extra minutes to visit with a couple of bikers that tented near us at the Katy Roadhouse campground in New Franklin.
Both are on their first long distance bike trip and riding together for only a portion of their cross-country journeys after meeting by happenstance a few weeks ago.
Sharing stories with Gabriel Atkins quickly revealed a kinship for wanting to help others find ways to improve their mental health.
Gabe started his ride as a way to bring attention to the plight of veterans after the separation from military service.
The average of 22 veterans a day lost to suicide is 22 too many.
Gabe is riding to keep this tragic statistic known among all the many distractions that clutter our attention on a daily basis.
I hope you will consider supporting his effort.
My day started like the images above and then switched to looking more like this:
Driving sag isn’t a bad gig. The truck has great air conditioning.
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Cicada Cacophony
Between the leaves being crushed by our tires, and the racket made by throngs of cicadas, there is a lot of noise on this ride.
My phone started slipping from my hand for this video but I caught it just in time to include Bob coming past me on the left.
To Sedalia
Yes, it was hot. We reached Sedalia before noon, as planned, despite a brief delay to deal with a puncture in my tubeless rear tire. The sealant prevented disaster and got me to our finish, but we put in a plug and added sealant for added protection after we were done riding for the day.
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Reached Clinton
Drove south all day while watching the temperature display on the dashboard climb until it reached 106 (F). Made it to Clinton, MO around 4:00 after a brief stop in Kansas City for mid-afternoon snack at Gates BBQ.
Today, we start riding The Katy Trail. The first leg is a short distance so we hope to reach the next camping destination before temps reach triple digits.
Relative Something 