I was wrong

August 8, 2016

Well another stereotype has been busted. I was convinced that the entire state of Kentucky was hilly, but it turns out that Western Kentucky has lots of flat corn and bean fields. What hills we did encounter were rolling rather than steep. This first picture was taken as we left Lewisport. If you look very closely on the horizon to the left of team S you may be able to make out the towers of the spectacular suspension bridge near Owensboro where US 231 crosses the Ohio River.

Power plant to the right, bridge to the left.

A very encouraging sight we encountered was turn indicators painted on the road by a local bike club to mark a cycling route. That's a seal of approval by local folks who know the roads. Even better, the route we were following was labeled as a 100 mile route. This meant club riders considered it suitable (i.e. flat enough) for a century ride.

Thanks to the flat roads we arrived in Owensboro with plenty of time for a side trip to the Western Kentucky University botanical gardens.

More evidence of flat roads - a bent rider.

Wayne went out of his way to escort us through the maze of Owensboro bike paths and city streets all the way to the botanical gardens. Yet another super friendly person we have encountered on this trip.

The gardens were infested with large insects.

We did our bit to try to control the insect pests.

Perhaps it was the large pumpkins that attracted the large bugs.

It was interesting to contrast the size of the corn and beans fields with the tobacco fields. Thanks to extreme mechanization, the grain fields were thousands of acres. The tobacco fields were tiny due to the manual care needed. I suppose corn fields a couple of hundred years ago would have been the same size as modern tobacco fields.

We passed a few watermelon fields that were quite large. It was amazing to watch the people harvesting the melons. They were literally tossing two at a time, from a first worker who picked them up from the ground, to a second relay worker who caught them and pivoted to toss them to a third worker riding in a truck who stacked them. It reminded me of interval training in a gym where you go all out for a minute, then recover for a minute, except these guys were continuously maintaining the all out pace.

Lock number one on the Green River, a Kentucky tributary of the Ohio. It was mighty brown for a green river.

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