June 3, 2006
Day 24: Marion, KY to Tunnel Hill, IL: A bad day with a good ending
So last night was the first night travelling by myself got a little sketchy. The little league games didn't get over until almost 10:00, and they finally turned off the big field lights soon after and everybody left. Everybody, that is, except this one guy who just kept rummaging around in his back seat and then getting into and out of his car at random intervals, smoking, looking at my camp set up on a picnic table under a pavilion roof. No way I could go to bed with him there like that. I waited for a while, programmed the local police onto my speed dial, and tried to think intimidating thoughts to make him go away. But he just kept getting into and out of his car on the other side of the parking lot from the pavilion where I'd been told to camp. After about 30 minutes of me NOT being able to go to bed, I finally called the local police so they could check it out.
After two rings, the dispatcher answered. I don't remember her name, but it was probably Mary. She sounded like a Mary anyway. She was 71 and apparently half deaf, as I ended up having to hurry over to the bathrooms to half-yell into the phone what was going on. I'm glad it wasn't a real emergency. Sheesh. After I told her what he was doing, she paused and said, "Well I can't figure out why everyone but him would leave." No, really? That's why I'm calling!!! So I heard her yell over to one of the officers to ask him to come check things out, that there was a man "upsetting me" at the park.
She stayed on the line until the officer got there, telling me she'd been working there for 20 years and was getting ready to retire when her mom had died, then she decided to keep working for a while just to stay busy but might actually retire soon. For the benefit of future callers, I told her that she'd probably done more than her civic duty and shouldn't feel guilty about leaving her post.
Anyway, the officer arrived, checked out the guy, and came over to tell me that he knew the guy personally from "the restaurant" (whatever that meant) and that he was just waiting for a friend to get off work from some local night shift so they could walk in the park like they often do at night. He assured me the guy would be the first to help if something did happen, but it's tough to trust someone you've created these menacing ideas about. But it was almost 11 and I was exausted, so I finally got to bed and had a restless night of sleep.
That lack of sleep probably contributed to me having one of the worst days of the trip. It was only 12 miles to the Illinois border, but I was so pokey. I didn't stop at any restaurants in town in case it was "the restaurant" of the innocent guy I'd called the cops for. I couldn't get the bike moving hardly, even though I was really wanting to get out of this state and start a new one. I got a second wind when I got to the floodplain and had a mile or two of absolutely flat land leading toward a water tower I knew must be on the other side of the river. Farewell Kentucky. You weren't as bad as I thought you'd be, but you didn't give me a very good send off either.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
The ferry ride was pretty cool--I loved watching the guy park the thing to account for the current and land it right in the center of the ramp smoothly. I hadn't taken the shortcut from Sebree to Carbondale mostly on account of this ferry ride, so I just kept taking pictures and talking to the other ferry occupants.
| Heart | 1 | Comment | 0 | Link |
After landing, I thought I'd try one of the diners for "pancake power" to get me moving, but that didn't work either. I was even slower than I'd been in the morning and struggled over the steep-ish Ohio River hills.
Elizabethtown brought a respite as I found more cold liquid and some good bananas and decided just to sit there a while, even though I'd planned another long day and my head was telling me to get on the road. I'd been carrying a book around for three weeks without using it for anything other than a base for my pillow of dirty clothes, and it was the only thing to get wet in an earlier rainstorm and never really dried, so I abandoned it there. It's about river travels and Eliz-town is a river town, so I thought someone might enjoy it. I left it in the sun in a pavilion overlooking the river and left a note on it so someone would know it was ok to take it.
| Heart | 1 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Twenty-five hot, service free miles followed, and my water still tasted funny. Oh yeah. The saga of the Camelbak. So after the bad ice of Bardstown, I basically haven't used the camelbak since then. Then when I was talking to my mom while in Marion waiting for the baseball games to finish, she suggested seeing if the concession stand had bleach. Which they did. Which they poured into my camelbak. Which must have been "meadow fresh" or something because it certainly didn't help the problem much, so I was using it kind of as back-up/emergency water storage. I try to never count on the next service stop on the maps since they change so often, but I was really counting on Eddyville to have water.
And the store was "temporarily closed" whatever that means. And I thought I was going to be hunting up a kindly stranger for use of their water faucet, but there's now a restaurant there that ISN'T on the map, and I was so happy to see them that I ordered way more food than I needed and downed 2-3 big glasses of sprite. But they filled me up with water, too.
I was hot, tired, cranky, and sore and didn't think I wanted to sit on my seat long enough to make it to my original destination, so as I sat outside a church looking at my maps, the nice janitors let me in the building to cool off and get water. And I drank a lot because it didn't taste funny. They confirmed the location of a campground just up the road about 3 miles, so I headed that way, thankful for the ice they'd given me.
The campground was really kind of weird. Nobody was there and they wanted $20/night according to the sign. I had to assume they'd give a biker discount, but since no one was there, I wasn't sure. I wandered around for a while looking at the unmown sites and hoping someone by the little pond was official enough to let me know what was going on. I was exhausted and just wanted a shower, but the shower house floor had all these big black bugs and a couple of giant spiders. I thought I could tough it out, but when I got back to my bike, I packed everything up and headed out. I hadn't paid the $20 and was hoping that a Bed and Breakfast just up the road would charge me less than that for a little piece of ground. I didn't have enough of a cell phone signal to find out, but I also didn't want to be at that creepy campground after the previous night's incident.
Going to the B&B would put me within 10 miles of my original goal anyway, so I hoped the people would take pity on a poor little biker like me. When I got there, there was some sort of barn-like establishment advertising live music, so I just went in, looking obviously out of place in my lycra and sandals among the western shirts and cowboy boots of the old men and the flowery shirts and white shorts of the women.
I was quickly rescued by the woman who owned the place and she said they wouldn't charge anything for me to camp out. I wouldn't even have to put up a tent if I wanted to sleep on the floor of the smokehouse, and I was welcomed to use the indoor bathrooms instead of the outhouses if I liked. WooHoo!! Way better than Creepy Campground had offered. I'd rather sleep dirty and safe than stay at Creepy Campground. When we went inside for her to show me around, her husband, who seemed like one of those genuinely hospitable people, asked if I wanted a shower. I'm sure I looked terrible and instead of my usual "oh, I don't want to trouble you," I said I'd love one. Then he told me just to go use the B&B part of the house, bathroom AND BED, since no one was there for the night anyway. I kept offering to pay something, but they wouldn't take anything. Apparently LuLu from HeeHaw had been there for a show just the previous night, so it was pretty nice.
I moved the bags and bike inside (it had started raining--see, it follows me) and had one of the best showers of the trip before going back to the Barn-thing, which ends up being something like a country bar but with no alcohol. Mrs. Morris served me the best ham beans I've had and cornbread (also free) while I listened to the band and chatted a bit with some of the line-dancing old folks. But I was so tired I eventually had to call it a night and went to sleep with Elvira and Achy Breaky Heart karaoke in the background.
The day had been a tough one--hot, lots of ugly roadkill, bad drivers, bad water, bad attitude, but the hospitality from people who didn't even ask me my name made up for that in the end.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Today's ride: 66 miles (106 km)
Total: 1,159 miles (1,865 km)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 4 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |