Motel Mix-Up

March 14, 2018

Day One: Lebanon, IL to St. Charles, MO

Got a late start - I wasn't riding until almost noon. For the last twelve days I've been on a diet of my own design, which involves eating only oatmeal, oat milk (delicious but so expensive), bananas, walnuts, and pecans.

I've lost several pounds doing this, but my wife had urged me to eat something more substantial before this bike tour, so before I got on the bike I stopped at Subway for the first time in what seemed like forever, and had the same sandwich I've been getting for approximately 15 years.

There wasn't anything interesting for about the first 30 miles. I've seen all of this stuff many times in the nearly six years we've lived here.

I hadn't ridden toward Alton for at least a year, though, so it was slightly novel as I rode through Hartford and then got on the bike path that would take me to Alton, where I would cross the Mississippi and enter Missouri.

The bike path near Hartford has those annoying gates that are (by design) impossible to ride through. I suppose they are to prevent cyclists from colliding with whatever industrial traffic crosses the path. I've never investigated exactly what goes on next to the path; many signs feature dire warnings about trespassing.

The wind out of the west had picked up by the time I got to Alton, and the imposing bridge across the Mississippi. It's kinda scary riding onto this thing, especially in a strong wind. There's a bike lane, but only some faded paint separates you from the fast traffic. It's not my favorite way to cross the Mississippi, but not the worst either.

There was trash and broken glass strewn everywhere on the Missouri side. What a mess. The glass was so bad I actually carried the bike to avoid the worst of it.

There was supposed to be some sort of bike path just after leaving the bridge, so I pulled off the busy road (which at least had a decent shoulder) and rode on what is surely one of the worst-maintained "bike paths" ever. It was mostly grass. It finally stopped at a virtual wall of brush, so I turned around and got on the busy road for a mile, until I could exit onto a quiet country lane.

After several pleasant miles of low- or no-traffic riding (albeit with a headwind), I pulled off the road to take a picture of a barn, and then, riding back onto the road, noticed an odd sound. My tires were covered with thorns. I pulled out at least twenty of them. Fortunately, the day before, Joy had filled my tubes with two bottles of Stan's Sealant. I can confirm that it works really really well.

Then I had to ride for 1.7 miles on the surprisingly busy, shoulder-less Missouri state highway 94. Sadly, horn-blaring rural Missouri drivers continue to be assholes much of the time.

Soon I was on the Katy Trail, though, the surface of which was in pretty good condition. I stopped at the first little community and talked to young bike rider Ryland, who informed me of several things, including his age (five), the cost of his bike ($114), his brother's age (three), and his dog Bella's age (also three.)

I was by now a few hours behind my overly optimistic schedule, and it was getting dark when I arrived in St. Charles, where I was bitterly disappointed to find that I had not, in fact, reserved a room at the conveniently located Country Inn (near the trail), but instead was booked at the much less conveniently located Comfort Inn. It was so inconvenient, in fact, that I had to resort to sidewalk riding/walking, and futilely asking local people for directions, my phone having died upon my arrival in St. Charles.

Tomorrow: An ambitious attempt at 100 miles on the trail.