June 18, 2006
Day 17: Bardstown, KY to Rough River Dam State Resort Park
100.98 Miles, 7:51:39 Ride Time, 13.04 Average Speed, 37.2 Maximum Speed
This was an eventful day for the following reasons:
1. It was the first 100+ mile day of the trip
2. I crossed the 1000 mile mark
3. I got rained on, big-time
4. I rode into a new time zone
The day began with the Best Western's continental breakfast, which was the usual pastries, cereal, and juice. A group of middle-aged motorcyclists ("The Old Fart Motor-Sickle Club", according to the shirts they all wore) were there, and as we got ready to leave, they asked Peter to take their pictures. He obliged, and in return the women agreed to pose with him for a picture of his own.
That accomplished, we rode out of the parking lot at about 8:30. It was overcast, with the weather report calling for a chance of showers all day. We rode out of Bardstown and passed a few distilleries. As it was Sunday morning, traffic was very light. We made a brief detour at the Abbey of Gethsemani, but the visitor center was closed, so we didn't stay long.
We rode on to Howardstown and made the first drink/snack stop of the day. The girl working in the store warned us about the big, "four mile" hill coming up. Of course, having ridden through the Appalachians, I scoffed. The hill wasn't four miles long, but it wasn't that easy, either. Since leaving "the mountains" behind a few days ago, I've found that I become annoyed whenever I do encounter any kind of hill; I suppose that's because one of the ways I made it through the mountains was by convincing myself that everything would get flat in just a few more days.
We rode on through some more unremarkable countryside until we got to Buffalo, where we stopped for lunch. This place was notable for having in its restroom the strongest, by far, air hand dryer I've ever experienced. This may seem like a trivial thing to mention, but the force of the thing was incredible. As we left, the guy at the store even commented on it - he's probably proud of having the strongest hand dryer in the world.
It started sprinkling as we left, but it didn't amount to much. Since we were trying to do a big mile day, we skipped Lincoln's birthplace, and continued on to McDowell Road. We rode on this nice, lightly-travelled road for a while, before turning on to SR 84. We got rained on a little, but it was nothing serious; so far, we had been lucky to just skirt the edges of the showers. The landscape started getting noticeably flatter now, and, except for the occasional headwind, the riding was getting easier.
We crossed I-65 at Sonora, which was extremely busy due to a wreck on the interstate - apparently lots of traffic was getting on at that exit to re-route around the accident.
After more riding, we crossed the Western Kentucky Parkway, and stopped at a service station in Eastview. By now, the sky was looking increasingly dark; we had been lucky all day in avoiding serious rain, so we pressed on.
A few miles later, we rode into a heavy downpour. I hadn't put on the rain gear, and I was soaked pretty quickly. A pickup truck ahead of us pulled into a driveway, and we followed it in. I asked the man driving if we could wait out the rain in his barn, and he said that would be no problem. So, Peter and I wheeled into the barn, where we waited about 10 minutes, until the man, who introduced himself as Jim Phipps, came and asked if we would rather wait in the house. We quickly agreed, and met the Phipps family, who gave us towels to dry off in, and offered us dinner. While Peter called Cay with directions to the Phipps home, I tried to decide what to do. The Phipps' offered to let me stay at their house for the night if I wanted, which was very nice of them; I had already ridden 70 miles, and it was getting later into the afternoon than I was accustomed to riding.
After about 40 minutes, the rain stopped, although the sky still hadn't cleared completely. I decided to continue on to Rough River Dam State Park, which I had calculated this morning to be about 100 miles from Bardstown. So I left Peter, who was waiting for Cay to pick him up, and rode out by myself.
It was cooler after the rain, and overcast. I knew I had to ride about 30 miles to get to the state park. I'm not sure if it was the cooler temperature or the adrenaline, but I picked up the pace and did my best riding of the last few days (it might have helped that I seemed to have tailwind, as well). After I made a steep descent to cross the Rough River (and an equally steep ascent that surprised me so much that I actually pushed the bike for about 20 feet), I crossed into the Central time zone.
After the climb from the Rough River, most of the riding was on ridgetops, which helped push my average speed for the day above 13 mph. This was turning into the longest day of the trip, and I hadn't called home, so I stopped at a country store where the girl behind the counter let me use her cell phone (the battery in mine had died).
After several more miles I passed by the Rough River Dam camping area (camping not being my first choice tonight), and headed another half mile to the lodge. I stood in the lobby dripping with sweat, my shoes soggy and full of water from the rain, while the lady at the desk took several phone calls from people making reservations. When she finished with the phone, the people in line ahead of me asked her unimportant (to me, of course) questions about the date of the next "dulcimer fesival", as I wondered whether there would be a room available.
Luckily for me, there was a room available, although I had to carry the (loaded) bike down stairs and over a small rock wall to get to it. After I got in the room and cleaned up, it was after 7:00, so I quickly went to the restaurant in the lodge before it closed at 8:00. I had the buffet (again avoiding any seafood items since the incident in Harrodsburg).
There was a final interesting occurrence of the day. I was looking around the lodge after dinner when I heard a guy with an English accent asking the lady at the desk where he could find a payphone. There wasn't one, but someone else in the lobby offered his cellphone. When he was finished with his call I asked him, on a hunch, if he was a touring cyclist. It turns he was Leigh, from England riding East from San Francisco. We compared notes, and he gave me some hints about places to stay, one of which would come in very handy in a few days.
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Today's ride: 101 miles (163 km)
Total: 1,021 miles (1,643 km)
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