Monday, July 25, 2011

7/24/11 This one is about biking.

Ellington to Farmington

68 mile ride today that could have been a 58 mile ride. This is what happens when you elect me as a navigator. Today's elevation map shows one particularly beasty hill that resembles closely, a witches hat.

I had been riding for some time before noticing, hey... this road is flat! We stopped to reroute. Chris silently planned. A cow looked at me with disdain. 'How could you do this? And on such a hot day.'

Here's the great news: My route? It has a BBQ joint, neatly placed at lunch time. Also my route? No mountain. Ten mile detour FTW.

Almost immediately following ideal BBQ lunch we discovered our route included a bike path. Like a huge slice of chocolate cake. No one screaming "…HOT DOG" in your face, just trees, and silence.

If Farmington, MO wasn't bike friendly enough, dig on this, Dear Reader: They have a bike hostel. A jail from 1870 converted into a loft apartment. Absolutely beautiful. Furnished with leather couches and cute little bunk beds. The sole purpose of the place is to house cyclists on the TransAmerican bike route. Who thought of this? I don't know, google it yourself. I'm tired.

We made tacos in the kitchen and watched the Tour while reading bike blogs from others who have passed through. I know, enough with the bike crap already. I'm sick of it to. Let's talk about something else.


  1. I got both packages yesterday. Thanks for the mug, it will be a proud addition to my collection. I will drink from it and think of you.

    I am afraid that the box with your sleeping bags in it has apparently been through the Ghostbusters treatment. I haven't had the courage to open it yet, as it is oozing green slime. I think I'll just pour bleach over it or set it on fire.



  2. I'd recommend fire first, followed by pouring bleach over the ashes. Perhaps some high-voltage electrical sterilization could be worked in, as well?