June 15, 2023
Day Three: Aurora, Kentucky to Columbus-Belmont State Park
I felt refreshed after getting enough sleep last night. It's a shame I need nine or ten hours now. It certainly makes it hard to be productive when I need to sleep almost half the time.
I got up and got things together reasonably quickly, then rode out of the motel parking lot, endured a half mile of surprisingly busy early morning commuter traffic, then onto the wide shoulder of highway 80 for a short distance before turning onto a network of super quiet country roads.
I'd designed a route that kept me between the two larger towns of Murray and Mayfield. I didn't want to even approach the suburban outskirts of either city.
Scenery was pleasant but nothing special. That was ok with me, since I'm easily pleased in that department.
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The first notable thing this morning was a cemetery with my name.
That wasn't especially interesting, but a different sign was: I've looked at lots of cemetery signs while bicycling, but I've never seen this prohibition mentioned:
After pondering how many animal burials had occurred before the people running Jeffrey Cemetery decided they had to erect the sign, I got back on the road. Scenery continued to be pleasant. But it was getting hotter.
I stopped briefly in the small community of Kirksey and looked around. Nothing much was happening there, or appeared to have happened in a long time.
...Although I did see one of these odd cars parked outside a decrepit building. I associate this kind of customization with urban areas, but what do I know. It looks dumb to me, but I'm an old man who drives his wife's hand me down mini van.
I exited a long stretch of farm roads and stopped in the town of Farmington, small enough that no population is listed in its Wikipedia article, but large enough to contain a Dollar General store, where I stopped and purchased a few snacks, including, for the first time on a bike tour, string cheese. This was something my wife had strongly recommended in the past, but for some reason, carrying cheese (unrefrigerated!) on the bike seemed too radical a notion for a bicycle tourist as conservative as me. (Conservative in the ways of bicycle touring, I mean.)
I rode across the street to a church and sat on its steps in the shade while eating the string cheese wrapped in tortillas that my wife had purchased for me before the trip, but which I had not, until now, opened.
The string cheese and tortillas were surprisingly good. And likely much more nutritious than the Grandma's brand cookies and Little Debbie snacks that I usually eat while on tour.
Back on the bike. It was hot.
Six or seven miles later I arrived in Sedalia, population 295. I wasn't feeling especially hungry after eating the string cheese, but I was a little light headed. Maybe I needed hot food. I went into a café, which was a nice enough place, and ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and French fries. I started eating it, and felt suddenly queasy. A normal person would have probably paused at this point, but I have slightly unusual ideas about eating while on bike tours, and continued. The queasiness passed, fortunately.
Back on the road, it was much hotter. I used to be able to ride in 100+ degree temperatures. Now 85 degrees feels hot.
I arrived in Clinton, population 1,388. I needed to make a decision about where I was staying tonight. There were a couple of B&Bs in the area, but the first one had nothing available, and the second one didn't answer the phone. It looked like I was going to get to try my new tent for the first time. Yay!
I had a route worked out to Columbus-Belmont State Park, on a bluff over the Mississippi River. I was about five miles away when a man in a truck pulled up beside me. He told me he was trying to get to Tennessee. He was obviously deeply confused, because we were clearly going north, very much the wrong direction to get to Tennessee, which, as surely everyone (except some former coworkers of mine when I lived in Utah) knows is *south* of Kentucky.
My navigational smugness evaporated a few miles later when I turned onto Beasley Road, only to find that Beasley Road had pretty much ceased being a road some years ago.
I stood over the bike looking at Google Maps on my phone. It appeared I would need to take a several mile detour to a state highway in order to get to the state park. I've done bike touring long enough that I didn't spend much time stamping my feet or cursing at this development, as I would have done years before, when I was an angry(ier) young man. I just got back on the bike and started riding. I guess I'm a stoic now.
When I finally reached the town of Columbus (population 170), I immediately walked into the Beards & Roses general store, a great place run by a friendly couple. I hung out there for a while drinking Diet Pepsi and eating some of their homemade ice cream, before riding the quarter mile to the state park, where I obtained a grossly expensive tent camp site ($27 + tax!).
After setting up and showering I walked back to the store where I ate a pizza and used my laptop with the store's WiFi. That's when I learned about the closure of the ferry at Hickman. I'd have to find some other way across the Mississippi tomorrow. I had a brief meltdown about this (so much for my earlier stoicism when I had to ride the detour), but eventually decided I'd ride to Hickman tomorrow anyway, and try to figure something out.
Back at the campground, it looked like there was almost no chance of rain, so I left the fly off the tent. The campground was relatively quiet, and I fell asleep quickly.
Today's ride: 77 miles (124 km)
Total: 218 miles (351 km)
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