May 29, 2015
Day 24: Farmington, MO to Ellington, MO; The Day I Raced the Devil
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(Note to readers regarding the elevation profiles; the profile is calculated from Point "A" on the map to Point "B" on the map. Since I am traveling east to west on the first half of this transcontinental journey, my route of travel is usually shown on the map as being from right to left. However, the elevation profile is shown from left to right, so it must be "reversed" in your head to understand it.)
Climbing Today; 2,856 ft -- Total So Far; 66,231 ft
I didn't sleep last night. I don't mean that I didn't sleep well, I mean I didn't sleep - no sleep, none at all. Rather surprising considering the 102 mile day which included an introduction to the Ozarks. Maybe I was just too exhausted to sleep. Maybe it was because I had a headache from my allergies acting up and I took a decongestant/antihistamine pill late at night. Maybe it's because I'm older and I just don't sleep well. Maybe the cycling gods just wanted to test my resolve today. Whatever the reason, I didn't sleep. Oh well, I told myself there will be plenty of time to sleep when I'm dead, and with that cheery thought I prepared to leave. Here's a photo of James Filmer, the British cyclist who has been traveling with our rag-tag band of 2-wheel gypsies;
And here's a photo of the map at Al's Place that depicts the home locations of visiting cyclists. I added a pin for Tulsa.
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I have signed several guestbooks on this journey to date, and I signed the one at Al's Place as well. An advantage to reading the guestbook entries is that you can get the last names of the cyclists you have met and know only by first name. Notice the signature in the entry above mine is that of Min, the very interesting Korean cyclist I encountered yesterday.
Prior to departure, I snapped a pic of Nikky and Sabine, the Swiss couple I met last night.
And here's another shot of Daniel Wolf of Colorado as he is preparing for departure;
Nikky and Sabine have bikes equipped with Rohloff hubs, so we discussed technical stuff a bit. The Rohloff is an internally geared drive system. It's virtually bombproof, and is completely sealed from the elements, so it's a popular touring option used by many Europeans. While used in the U.S. as well, it hasn't become as popular here. Sabine's bike also displays some brightly colored small flags.
Many businesses have developed along the Transam Route to support cyclists, including this bike shop adjacent to Al's Place that is capitalizing on the Transam name.
Finally, I'm off. It's 7:30 am, and that's a very late start for me, but hey; I am a little groggy this morn. Along the way I stopped to photograph what I think are some sort of wild plums.
"Moving a Turtle"
James has been known to stop and move turtles off the roadway to save them from death by automobile. He's moved quite a few of them along the journey so far. As I cycled on I noticed his bike ahead of me parked off the roadside, and James was off in the brush a bit for a quick bathroom stop. I think he may have been a bit embarrassed as I approached, and he said "I was just moving a turtle off the road." I relayed this to others, and from this point on a relief stop has become known as "moving a turtle."
Missouri is known for its many wild and beautiful streams, many of which are suitable for canoeing and kayaking. Here are a few shots of streams I passed along the way today;
Stopping for a brief rest along the way, I spied a sign warning of video surveillance to protect this overgrown property. Surely they are joking, it's hard to imagine that anyone would want to break in here, unless perhaps some sort of criminal activity was being conducted.
I rolled on to the Rustler Café in Pilot Knob where I gobbled down some lunch. I received a phone call while there, and chatted with the person on the other end as though all was normal and it was just another day at work for me. It would take too much effort to get into the details of where I was, what I was doing and why, so I didn't. I was getting tired now from the lack of sleep last night, but there was nothing for it but to push on, and so I did. Rolling on, I came upon this reference to the route of the Trail of Tears, which is quite famous in Oklahoma for the suffering endured by the Cherokee people.
Racing the Devil
My destination for tonight is Ellington, MO, which has a bike hostel. We know this because Brandon has had a mechanical issue with his bike and is broken down there and has texted the info telling us the code to enter the hostel. Daniel, James, Nikky and Sabine, and I all plan to lodge there tonight. I was the last to leave this morn, and I have been traveling slowly due to the hard effort yesterday and the lack of sleep last night. My earlier leg injury is perhaps 95% healed now; I can cycle OK with it and feel only a slight twinge at hard effort, though if I try to walk fast it does complain. There have been some hard climbs today; we are in the Ozarks, you know.
And so it was that in a rather tired state, perhaps even a bit delirious from sleep deprivation and exhaustion, I arrived at a point about 7.5 miles from Ellington. The others had already safely made it into town. There was a thunderstorm brewing just slightly off to my right, and it was growing. Looks like I'm going to have a miserable end to a hard cycling day, I thought. Thunder clapped and lighting flashed, and a brief burst of cold rain slapped me in the face, and I was about ready to succumb to my fate when Harvey spoke up.
"We can do it," was all he said. "I don't know," I replied, "I'm pretty tired." "We can do it!" he said emphatically. "I've been crawling all day and I want to run, I NEED to run." "OK then," I sighed, cause I knew this was going to hurt. The rain was spitting on me steadily now, and I turned and shook my fist at the thunderstorm; "You want me, you Devil? Bring it on, but you've got to catch me first!" The reply was instant as a bolt of lightning lit the sky and the rain fell hard enough to darken the path ahead. "It's on," I said to Harvey. "I know," he replied, "Pour it on, let's go!"
I knew from the ACA map elevation profile that the last 7.5 miles into Ellington was mostly downhill. But it's not steeply downhill, it drops gently, and there are several uphill rises along the way. Not the ideal spot to challenge the devil to race, but it was what it was. I settled down into the drops, downshifted, and pedaled mightily with all the strength I could muster. On the slight downhill grade, 25 mph was all I could do, and I was breathing heavily to do that. The rain was sort of semi-solid now, and it both stung and chilled me as I tried to get ahead of it. "More!" said Harvey in an excited voice, "I need more!" "That's all I have," I replied between gasps. "Dig deeper," he said in a calm voice now, "we aren't losing this race, not today." And so I dug deeper; I dropped into the best aero tuck I could manage while still maximizing the effort and we managed to hit 30 mph. Ever so slightly, we pulled out of the rain.
Then we hit one of the uphill runs. I downshifted through 2 gears at a time and strained hard to keep a fluid flow up the hill. I seldom stand on uphills, but now I stood and strained mightily to get ahead. A 100-pound touring bike doesn't respond rapidly, and the cold rain caught us again. "Push over the hill!" yelled Harvey, but I was already way ahead of him and was not about to relax the effort; this had become a live-or-die race. We crested the hill and fought hard to reach 32 mph on the next downhill. "We're winning!" Harvey yelled, but I was breathing too hard to reply. The rain almost caught us on the next uphill, and I thought my heart might burst as I fought gravity to get us over the top. There are worse ways to die, I thought, so let my heart burst. But I have a strong heart, and that was unlikely, so I pushed with all the strength I had left as we crested the hill slightly ahead of the chasing storm.
The final descent into Ellington was a bit steeper and we neared 40 mph on it with me pedaling like the Devil was chasing me; and indeed he was, but this day belonged to me. Beaten now, the storm cell faded away to the northeast. I raised my fist at the dark cloud and struggled to talk with a weak and raspy voice; "Not today, you devil, not today..." We limped into town and found the hostel. Harvey was exhausted from the effort and the excitement, and as I put him away for the night he simply said "Told you so."
From the moment we're born into this world we are all racing some devil as we strive to live our lives. The only certainty in our life is that it will someday end. Some succumb early and some stay ahead of the beast for a long time, but life doesn't last forever and the devil eventually wins. When that day comes for me and the devil finally gets his due, I will look him in the eye and say "Remember the day I beat you down the mountain? Bring it on..."
Today's ride: 61 miles (98 km)
Total: 1,359 miles (2,187 km)
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