September 18, 2022
Day Seven: Hartsburg, Missouri to Windsor, Missouri
My plan was to get up very early this morning and ride out onto the trail in the dark using my headlight. I needed to cover almost 100 miles to get to my planned destination of Windsor.
I hadn't checked the weather forecast last night, and so I was surprised when, after riding just a few hundred feet from the hotel, I heard a loud clap of thunder. I made it to the Hartsburg Trail Depot and stood under the overhang as it started to rain.
A couple zoomed past me. We shouted out hellos, and I observed them getting everything into their parked SUV at the trailhead.
(I'd see them later in the day and learn they'd camped a few miles from Hartsburg, and were doing sections of the trail as training for next year's RAGBRAI.)
I waited for the rain to stop, and for the sun to rise, for the next hour. There wasn't much to do except listen to an owl hooting, and look at the weather radar on my phone.
Finally I'd had enough of this, put my rain jacket on, and rode out into what was now a light drizzle.
| Heart | 5 | Comment | 0 | Link |
The rain was over by the time I reached Cooper's Landing, a campground right on the river.
I stopped for 15 minutes and talked to a dude having his morning coffee and cigarette. In addition to the Usual Questions about bike touring, he had an additional one, the paraphrased version of which was: "So, do you get much action from the ladies while you're traveling?"
Back on the trail, it was only partly cloudy now. There was some construction near the trail, but the short detours were well marked.
Lots of cyclists were out on this Sunday morning now that the sun was shining. A couple of friendly roadies pedaled beside me for a while.
The man and woman from early this morning were now riding west, and they slowed down and talked. They were excited about doing the 50th anniversary of RAGBRAI next year. It sounded like most of their "training" for the big Iowa event was getting used to sleeping in a tent. I wished them luck.
Rocheport, population 239, was a fancy little town. There was a restaurant there, but it was packed, so I took a few photos and continued on into the tunnel of trees.
There were some nice views from the trail. Nothing spectacular, but then of course I'm easily pleased in that department.
The rain started again as I approached New Franklin, population 1,027, but by the time I got my rain jacket on, it had mostly stopped.
I talked for a while to a 78-year-old man riding at a steady 10 mph pace. He was an experienced cyclist who'd done many randonneuring events in the past, even Paris-Brest-Paris, but he was now recovering from a recent heart attack, and was taking it slow.
He and I went off the trail a half mile to a Casey's and had pizza. By the time I got back on the trail, the sun was blazing, and it was hot.
The Katy Trail crosses the Missouri River at the larger town of Boonville, on a bridge with a separated pedestrian and bike lane.
The Trail winds its way through a few city streets, and, amusingly, through the parking lot of a big casino, already busy on this Sunday morning.
I talked briefly to a couple of men who where doing the Trail west to east on extremely heavily loaded bikes. I couldn't imagine why they were carrying so much stuff. One of the men was a very experienced bicycle tourist who had led tours for Adventure Cycling. He'd also canoed down the Missouri River. The Katy Trail was obviously a pretty mild "adventure" for this guy, and he appeared to be a little bored by it.
The section west of Boonville is my favorite part of the trail. There are a few little hills, and the scenery is a little more rugged.
Unfortunately, after the day's rain, the trail surface was predictably soft and harder to ride on. That was a little demoralizing, but not bad enough for me to contemplate the drastic course of action this sign warned against:
By the time I reached Pilot Grove, population 768, the sky was dark, and it was thundering. I parked outside a Casey's and walked in.
There were two young men working in the store. The guy behind the counter was wearing his clean, neatly pressed Casey's uniform, shirt carefully tucked in. The other guy, working in the kitchen in the back, was a slob in comparison. Both were friendly. The kitchen guy quickly agreed to make an entire cheese pizza, even though I only wanted one slice. "Someone will eventually buy the rest of it", he told me.
The two dudes had any interesting dynamic, which I observed as the pizza baked. Every time someone purchased something, the sloppy guy in the kitchen called out to the guy at the register, "Don't make a mistake!". The guy at the register immediately replied "Get back in your kitchen."
This identical, obviously long-practiced interchange was repeated seven or eight times as I stood in the store.
I was bored, and decided to use this opportunity to pump the employees for inside information on the Casey's operation, but nothing interesting was revealed.
I asked them what they thought of their competitor, the "Kum & Go" chain. "It's a catchy name", the guy at the counter told me. I was hoping they would bash their presumably hated rival convenience store chain, but they remained professional.
By the time I'd finished my pizza, the rain had stopped. Back to the even-soggier Katy Trail.
After several nice miles, I arrived in the big town of Sedalia, population 23,000+.
The trail winds its way through blue collar neighborhoods.
I was not a fan of Sedalia, at least not today. An angry-looking bum, drinking out of a paper bag, was sitting on the bench at the trail depot, blocking my view of the trail map. How dare he ignore the prominent "State Park Rules Apply" sign!
A couple of young women on loaded bikes rode up, and I talked to them for a few minutes while giving the bum the stink eye.
I was now ready to be done for the day, but I had 22 miles to go. It was hot - in the 90s. The trail surface was soggy and soft.
I rode through a "prairie restoration area" which was hot and shadeless, then reached the high point of the Katy Trail, before the tunnel of trees reappeared.
Horses are allowed on the trail as it nears Windsor, my destination for the day. Years ago in Ohio I spooked a horse, causing its rider to fall off, as I quickly rode past it. Now I'm very careful when riding near horses, and I walked my bike past this group.
Finally, Windsor. I checked into a nice, very reasonably priced "inn", which is actually the bottom floor of a nice lady's house. It was so nice, in fact, and I was so tired, that I decided to take a rest day there tomorrow.
Today's ride: 98 miles (158 km)
Total: 569 miles (916 km)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 9 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |