Day 22 Harriman, TN to Asheville, NC 155.1 miles

It was another beautiful day to behold as I worked my way through TVA and Knoxville area, and the French Broad River basin. By now I’m just grinning from ear to ear knowing I’ll be in NC by nightfall with my wife and within a day’s ride to home. I chuckled often to myself because I really had no concept of how far 150 miles was. When I saw while mapping out my route for the final day that Asheville was only 120 miles from Davidson I realized I had been putting some good distance down each day. Asheville, once a faraway distant and unreachable place by bicycle a few months earlier was now considered a short day for me. That’s a different perspective.
I stopped to take a picture of the TVA area and a motorist stopped to talk about my miles and to express his own desire to go cross country but unfortunately couldn’t afford the time. Life will get away from you if you let it.
I thought it had been a while since I took a headshot so I did my worst while pedaling up one of the mountains. My hair is getting wily. The Appalachians are quite beautiful and left me thinking why I hadn’t spent more time riding through the area. I plan to fix the problem soon. The roads through the mountains (US-25/US-70) are gorgeous and the weather was perfect, I slowed my pace a bit to enjoy the afternoon. The road into Asheville however was treacherous, jarring, and becoming an interstate. I’m not real sure why rumble strips are required to run all the down exit ramps but it wasn’t fun to negotiate the strips while dodging traffic on broken up shoulders. I made it in one piece though with the help of some drivers who allowed me to cross lanes in order to get into Asheville. I believe Merrimon Ave should be used coming from the north.
I arrived in Asheville around 6 and was more than excited to have dinner with Stephanie at the Laughing Seed. Unfortunately it is closed on Tuesdays. We did the next best thing and had dinner at the brewery below. We enjoyed the corn chowder especially. We’ll have to make a return visit for the Laughing Seed soon. We stayed at the Renaissance which was quite different from the one in Charlotte in terms of fancy. I probably stunk up the place being on the road for so long. I still have a hard time believing Asheville is only around 120 miles to Davidson.

Day 22 Clarksville TN, to Harriman, TN 191.2 miles

Wow, what a day. Knowing I had a long day ahead of me, I made sure I wore my haulin’ ass socks to keep me going. This day is the kind of day cyclists dream of and hope every day will be. What makes this day even far more exceptional is I had 13 hours of the best ride. After 5 weeks of riding I finally felt like there was no hill big enough to tire my legs, I felt like I was in shape at last. Every cyclist knows the feeling, sometime in the middle of the summer each year the legs become strong and impenetrable. These Rockies seasoned legs finally got the feeling. There were a couple climbs today, one 5 mile climb had a local ask me if I’d like a ride to the top. He was surprised to hear I came from Seattle. Each of the climbs were flattened by my gears, I cruised up and down the hills with ease.
I made it to Crossville and caught a flat from a heavy staple. Fortunately I was forced to stop in front of the fire chief Mike Turner’s house where his daughter called him and he was there in 30 seconds to help. A fellow cyclist, we shared stories of adventures and he also told me about how he was riding along on the same road and some kids had shot him in the back with a pellet gun. I am glad I still don’t have any stories like that to share. Big thanks to Mike and his daughter for their help with the flat.
Also along the way I saw the typical bicycle route sign but this one had another sign below it indicating a campground 3 miles ahead. I think this is a perfect way to give cyclists a heads up on what’s ahead by posting signs with the bike route sign. The advertising funding similar to what we see near interstate exits could help pay for the proper signage for cyclists finding their way around the state.
I had high hopes I would make it to Knoxville or Maryville by the end of the day but Harriman was the furthest the light would take me. I decided I wouldn’t do anymore night riding in the interest of preserving my life for natural causes of death. I’m sure the life insurance company also appreciated my consideration too.
I went to a Mexican restaurant this evening, they brought out three plates of food which I didn’t intend to eat so much but I did anyways. The expediter was a little confused who he should deliver 3 plates of food since it was just me and one other person in the restaurant. I had 3 tamales, a plate of rice and beans, a burrito, a basket of chips, and 32 oz of beer for around $15. Not bad at all. Other calories included a bowl of cheerios, 2 muffins, a banana, 1.75 gallons of Gatorade, and 1 M&M pack.
Tomorrow I will meet my wife in Asheville 155 miles away over the Appalachians. I expect it to be a tough day since it should be all uphill. My wife and I love the restaurant Laughing Seed so we’re looking forward to a good dinner tomorrow!

Day 21 Cape Girardeau, MO to Clarksville, TN 164.7 miles

Hampton Inn had a great breakfast, I had 2 danishes, a bowl of cheerios, a giant blueberry muffin, a yogurt, and washed it down with a couple glasses of orange juice. I had the spread out before me at the table and felt like eyes were on me judging how much I was consuming. I was in the 24 Hours of Booty kit so I was a sight regardless.
I was on the road by 7:30 confident I would make some good miles since a cold front had pushed through overnight and the high today would be 90. The winds are picking up in my favor according to the weather channel, but we’ll see if they’re right.
As the trees became a part of the landscape I was more aware of being in the south. There were no more casinos and gambling halls. Churches replaced liquor stores on the street corners. Kudzu was rampant. In Missouri there were oak trees everywhere, I began to recognize the foliage. Aspen trees, to me, are exotic. I entered Illinois with much internal fanfare after crossing the Mississippi. I was officially in the east and the wind started to pick up in my favor as predicted. Illinois had beautiful roads and good asphalt. There wasn’t a lot of people around as I thought there would be, the land was kind of swampy from the river. I rode into Cairo to a shocking scene. It was as though the town stopped its clock in 1950. There were blocks and blocks of buildings with “Speakeasy” signs and other notes of an earlier time. There were no gas stations, no chain restaurants, only rundown buildings, homes, and broken windows. The city’s residents were destroying their own town. I later looked up the town on Wikipedia and it confirmed my thoughts, it was a town built for 20,000 but only had 3,000 people living in it. The remaining residents looked like zombies milling around town, it was a sad sight to see. If Hollywood wanted to do a post apocalyptic movie this town would fit the bill. I did not take any pictures, no one frame would do the town any justice. Apparently there are many towns along the Mississippi where dependency on the river trade made them obsolete after the 40s and 50s. There is a lot of heritage in the towns and I think I would like to tour the old river road someday in the future before it is gone. I left Cairo over the Ohio River and into Kentucky with some trepidation as I hear the locals are less than friendly with cyclists as well as their dogs.
I had nothing to fear in Kentucky, it was a nice leisurely ride in the 80s with the wind at my back. The motorists gave me plenty of room on my way through Mayfield and Murray. An odd feature of Kentucky roads was the rumble strips which seemed to be an afterthought of state legislation to mandate rumble strips on all state roads. The rumble strips looked like they were formed by a tractor rolling a tank tread over the outer edge of the road where most of the strip was about 3 to 6 inches wide. I’d be in the ditch before I would wake up from those road strips. These road features just meant I had to ride to the left of the white line which I wasn’t excited about. KY-121 was a great road though with good asphalt, I entered Tennessee welcomed by a confederate flag at the border, I consider it the unofficial entrance to the south.
I was happy to be in Tennessee, it was adjacent to North Carolina and would be a reasonable drive for my wife should she have to come pick me up for some reason. I was in Clarksville by 7:30 but I thought it was 8:30 because of eastern time. I was wrong though, and I would never find out where the change in time was. I stayed at a sad Quality Inn that was a former Holiday Inn setup with the indoor pool and gaming area surrounded by the guest rooms. It was a large compound for so few guests. I think 4 rooms were occupied that evening. The pushboard letter sign noted Quality Inn but the years of dust still hinted the welcome to Holiday Inn. It appeared the enclosed bar overlooking the pool was now a storage area. Everything looked tired like me. My dinner options were Hooters or Shoney’s. I walked over to Shoney’s to friendly service, lasagna, a nacho appetizer mess, sweet tea, and a sundae. All for $15. Nicely done. I normally don’t drink caffeinated drinks at night but going to sleep was easy these days and the novelty of ordering “tea” without attaching “sweet” in front of it to get sweet tea attracted me to order it. That’s the 2nd sign you’re in the south, no tea comes without a pound of sugar in it.
The weather channel indicated westerly winds at 10-20mph for the day tomorrow so I have high hopes of doing another 200 mile day like the one out of Colorado. I was planning a rest day in Nashville because I am extremely tired after the past week but I can’t pass up good tailwinds and a mid 80s day. It’s a gift I won’t turn away. We’ll see what happens.
Calories were the Hampton breakfast, Shoney’s dinner, 2 gallons of Gatorade, 1 M&M pack, and it was nice to ride a dry bike with dry handlebars without all the heat.

Day 20 Saint James, MO to Cape Girardeau, MO 152.6 miles

I was on the road by 6am to escape the crazy motel room with the living TV. After that experience I used my USACycling license benefits to get 10% off a hotel reservation at the Hampton Inn in Cape Girardeau. I was committed to getting there by then end of the day.
My bike did not dry off from the prior day, it was extremely humid. I greeted a beautiful morning and rode for hours through the calm country. I would occasionally get a jolt of reality when a dog would chase me. I learned shepherds were the fastest dogs and I would have to get over 25 mph to outrun them. Pitbulls, while particularly aggressive looking, would receive my taunting because they could barely run 15 mph. I had at first lodged my bike pump through the front of my bibs in case I was caught on a hill but later found I could just put the pump under the bungee cords for a quick samurai slap across the ridge of the dog’s nose. I would prefer to outrun the dog though since I would likely have to outrun an angry dog owner in a truck if they saw a man in tights knock his dog out with a stick. My approach to dogs is to make sure I don’t allow them to flank my front wheel so even if I end up turning in the other direction the dog won’t get across my front wheel.
There hasn’t been any wind in the past couple days, and it would be the same today. Temperatures would be just as extreme as the other days… I would be dependent on my own devices without the help of a tailwind and I would have to fight the heat yet again, hopefully there would be no mechanical failures today.
The trip proved to be a fast one, US-67 had a wide open shoulder on great asphalt and MO-72 is getting a facelift with fresh asphalt. While extremely hot, my overall average today was 16.5 mph. MO-72 would have been a treacherous route, the unmaintained pocked bridges between the fresh asphalt hinted at how my ride would have been.
I stopped at a gas station in Farmington where a cub scout group was offering car washes. Some street bikers were surprised to see me there, saying they had passed me back at Park Hills about 10 miles away. I had cruised through at about 23 mph on US-67 so I had made good time to the MO-72 turnoff. A scout had stopped to ask me about my bike and what I was doing. I explained I had nearly 3,000 miles behind me from Seattle and I was headed home to Charlotte. It took a moment to process in the child’s head and he began scratching it to speed up the process. After a bit more time he summarized his confusion to, “Do you have a car?” I said yes, in fact I have two. This perplexed him more, he wanted to discuss the mode of transportation more but his mother called from around the building to attend to his carwashing duties.
I think part of the difficulty of cycling as a sport and transportation in the US is adults see transportation as an evolution. First, you learn to walk, then you learn to ride a bicycle, and then you learn to drive. You don’t go backwards in this evolution. Once you have achieved driving Shangri-La, you must park as close as possible to any door you wish to pass such as the Walmart parking lot. The requirement for close parking proximity means you will have to wait a few minutes for someone to pack their car and leave. Anything to prevent you from additional primitive walking from a further parking space. Some brazen transportationists think fire lanes and handicap parking also help minimize the walking one would have to do. I applaud their ingenuity, may their blood pressure always be the highest in the land.
I skipped lunch today, and I think I will continue to do so since my knees feel better just trudging through the day with minimal breaks. At 40 miles left in the day I felt alive, the Mississippi River was one of the few mental barriers left to cross before I would be home. As I was riding I started to notice the large swaths of trees knocked over, at first I thought it was logging but a lot of the trees were snapped halfway up the trunk. I figured a tornado had carved out some destruction along the road. It went for miles, and I saw some unfortunate birdhouses that were twisted up in the wake of the tornado too.

I was also a couple hours ahead of schedule because of making a good average for the day. I arrived at Cyclewerx at 4:30, and was delighted to see such a good group of people working in a relaxed shop. They trued the wheel and fixed me up with some supplies. I decided to buy a floor pump since I was tired of fighting for 90 psi. I felt the extra weight would be worth getting 110 psi every day. The shop owner went the extra mile and searched in his inventory to try to find a smaller pump. He also offered a smaller portion of chamois butt’r when he didn’t have the singles. He also pulled up a map and suggested I take a different route which would take me on a ferry ride across the Mississippi. Perhaps another time. I talked with one of the employees about the racing scene in Missouri as well as the state tour. There seems to be an active cycling community in the state and I think the community as a whole is very gracious to folks pedaling on the road. They have a good thing going! Thanks to the Cyclewerx shop – visit them if you’re in town.
I was at the hotel by 6 and was reluctant to go to the Outback, it was the only thing nearby. There's nothing wrong with the food, I just don't agree with the concept. Heath at the Hampton was helpful and told me to go to the Drury Inn next door for laundry. I found a sullen female sitting on a luggage cart guarding the laundry door at the Drury. She introduced herself by saying she was handicapped. I offered my help if I could. She said she was fine. I tried to see if the washer was full but couldn’t get around her, she said it was taken. I said I would wait until she was finished with her laundry as I pulled out my laptop and commenced to work on the floor. She said she was going to be a while, I replied all I had was time and didn’t have a lot of choice in the laundry matter. After 10 minutes she mumbled something, stood up, walked into the laundry room and pulled out her clothes in the washer and put them in the dryer. She walked out of the room and as she passed she said the washer was open. I never saw her again. I stepped over the luggage cart and got started on the laundry. I thought it a little strange.
Calories today weren’t much as compared to other days. 2.5 gallons of Gatorade, a clif bar, 2 packs of M&Ms (my rolling lunch it seems), a 9oz tenderloin steak with scallops, crab stuffed shrimp app, stuffed potato, 2 loaves of bread, salad, and key lime pie.
Tomorrow I plan to head deep into Tennessee through Illinois and Kentucky. Not sure which town yet but probably Clarksville at 160 miles.

Day 19 Warsaw, MO to Saint James, MO 136.1 miles

The Ozarks are an amazing feature of Missouri, it feels like I ride along a ridge in the mountains with views over undulating treetops as far as the eye can see. I haven’t seen so many trees in weeks. In prior states like Montana, one could see more than 20 miles away to know when I would arrive at an approaching town. In Missouri, I would have to spot the town water tower, but sometimes it would not appear until the last 3 miles of the ride.
My plan for the day is to get to Meramec Spring Park southeast of Saint James, about 150 miles. It shouldn’t be as hot as in the prior week and I’d like to spend some time out of the hotels.
Highway 7 east of Warsaw is a narrow winding road and I was particularly wary of the traffic but they were very gracious and gave me a wide avenue to ride. I arrived in Osage Beach surprised to see it is such a tourist attraction. I was unaware it was so popular, I should have put the pieces together when I saw most of the vehicles on 7 had more than one passenger. The lake is gorgeous and looks like it has 20 years to grow before getting overcrowded like my native Lake Norman. Old time stores selling crafts and ramshackle bars still adorn the roadsides and RV parks have lakeside access, something our Charlotte area lakes are losing. I stopped at a diner for a burger and shake and the owner and I talked about the area and my route. He was impressed with my daily miles and lamented he wanted to attempt the same feat but life would always get in the way of his desires. I like diners and will choose to stop at a diner over other venues typically because I find they have a unique menu. I unfortunately don’t understand the nostalgia since I am only 28, however I like the concept.
I was wrong about the heat, it was in the upper 90s again by midday, and another 2.5 gallons of Gatorade met its demise this day. I sweat profusely and it soaks my bike, I almost slipped off my bars one time causing the bike to jerk into traffic. Fortunately this time there weren’t any sideview mirrors to catch my error.
About 80 miles into the ride my typical difficulty in changing gears finally came full circle and I could no longer change gears at all. The rear derailleur was also stuck in the hardest gear. I wasn’t upset this time, I was still rolling and it was just another part of the ride. The mole hills in Missouri did become mountains though, and grinding over some of them forced me to the roadside to figure out what was wrong. I couldn’t see anything obvious on the back and decided to screw down the upper limits on the derailleur so I could at least get the gear a little easier to pedal. There was no cell service where I was west of Vienna and I could not find any shade either. I had to get somewhere to call in for remote mechanic service from the Spirited Cyclist! I finally made it to a gas station in Vienna and was grateful for the buy one get one free offer for 32 oz Frost Gatorade. I bought 6 of them.
I called the Spirited Cyclist for help, I was convinced my shifter was dead since it seemed the gearing had walked all the way off of the cassette. They were quick to correct my thinking when they suggested I check the tension on the cable. It was loose and I then checked the cable housing attached to the shifter, it fell off… Well, I was glad to have an extra cable but I felt the immediate need for a 2nd cable in case I screwed up installing the new one. Picture an accountant crowding a little piece of shade on the side of a gas station building, bent over his bike laid on its side baking in the midday sun. The asphalt was becoming wet with sweat dripping from the body, a futile attempt to cool off in the oppressive heat. I had observed Brian back in Denver attempting to adjust my gearing so I tried to mimic the same movements by running the cable through the shifter and down and out the back to the rear derailleur. It did not shift very well based on this approach after trying to adjust the gearing. I had made a stand on the rear pannier and by propping my tent under the front fork to make the adjustments easier. Another call to The Spirited Cyclist made me quickly realize the need to push the shifter on the outermost gear for the cassette. I could have broke my only cable if I had continued my previous path of installation. I had also discovered frayed head of the previous cable was lodged in the shifter and I fished it out with needle nose pliers. I was finally fixed up and ready to go. During this time a couple passersby offered their help. David Anderson was a local and told me about how the RAAM had just recently passed through the same road I was on which prompted him to stop and check on me. He was curious because he thought RAAM participants were supported (they are) and wondered why I was carrying so much gear. We shared a laugh about it and I told him about another motorist who profusely congratulating me for my “coast to coast” tour and how he heard about it on the radio. I guess some of the locals around here thought I was just another loser days behind on the RAAM course.
I had to make a decision between changing course to get to Rolla or continue to Saint James. Rolla had a bike shop but was further west than I wanted to go. I had no additional shifter cables and I was still a little concerned about getting my rear wheel trued. I decided to make for the Cape Girardeau shop at the Illinois border via Saint James.
I had a mental break on US-64 north of Vichy when I saw a rather long climb in front of me. I screamed and yelled at the pavement, there should be no climbs in Missouri. It was 3 miles of uphill with a scenic view at the top. I cursed the scenery and wanted to be home…
I made it to Saint James as the sun was starting to go down, I would not be able to camp this evening because I lost an hour due to the broken shift cable. I crossed I-44 and stopped at Finn’s motel. This motel would be the last time I would stay at a mom and pop place. I think the south has a different style as opposed to the places I have stayed in the West and Midwest. I had to argue with the lady to get a nonsmoking ground floor room, I think innkeepers don’t want to get double rooms to a single person. She pretended not to understand my English and was insistent I could just leave my bike outside next to the office while I stayed in a room upstairs. I told her I would stay elsewhere and suddenly my lucid language cleared the musty office air. My room was nothing special as expected, however I had to unplug the TV because it turned itself on, the toilet ran which I was able to fix, the toilet seat was broken, the lampshades had a peculiar bleached design splashed over the top of the shade, and all the appliances were run off a single extension cord. My neighbor was toothless and also had an RV she lived in parked in the lot. I could not understand her English and it seemed she talked in my general direction but it could have been for own amusement to have a conversation with herself.
I decided Pizza Hut would be dinner for the evening, a place where I have not been for more than 20 years and I did not know what to expect. When I was in elementary school in Lexington NC they ran a promotion if you read 100 books you would get a free personal pizza. I remember getting a few of those pizzas. Tonight would be a medium supreme pizza with root beer. Nice folks in Saint James, a host town for the Tour of Missouri which would start on Labor Day.
I noticed an additional tan line this evening, I was getting a tan through my jersey which stopped at the ridges of the bibs so it looks like I have a white Y down my back.
Tomorrow is 160 miles to the Illinois border where I’ll stop at Cyclewerx in Cape Girardeau for repairs. I have to get there before the 6pm close so I have to leave early.

Home safe

Hey folks - wanted to let you know I arrived home yesterday safe and sound, Highway 73 is not the best road to ride during rush hour though! It usually takes me a couple hours to create and edit a post so I could not update as quickly as I would have liked these few days. The 100+ degree heat consumed my energy and there were a couple nights I would lay on the bed to stretch and go right to sleep. I will post the remaining days over the weekend.
Wishing everyone a happy and safe 4th with family and friends. If you're in the area, stop by the house, we'll pick you up dockside.
Just as a reminder, I created these posts as a reference for folks who are considering touring and wonder what it would take to complete their own journey. I used other blogs and journals as my own reference and I am now returning the favor. I encourage you to do the same and would like to hear about your adventures too.