Day Two: Kuttawa, Kentucky to Dover, Tennessee - Destination Unknown - CycleBlaze

October 11, 2021

Day Two: Kuttawa, Kentucky to Dover, Tennessee

"It's an awfully windy day to be riding a bike!"

I had a shorter day planned - sixtyish miles - so I took my time getting ready this morning. I rode away after 8:00 to find that it was even windier than yesterday - and mostly out of the south again.

I retraced my path back to the route from yesterday. Pleasantly empty, smooth paved roads. Some hills. A few dogs came out, but they were no big deal. Lately I've just been glaring at them rather than yelling. A stern look seems to have the same effect on their behavior in any case.

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Trash at the bottom of the sign. I loathe litterbugs. There are many things to be outraged about in today's world, of course, but I have a special hatred for people who throw their trash on the ground.
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Why don't difficult hills like this one never look very steep when I photograph them? It's a mystery.
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Eventually the quiet backroads ended, and I exited onto typically sort-of-busy US 62. I had to ride a mile or so on that and then cross the Cumberland River. Since the last time I'd been here, a paved shoulder had been added all the way to the  narrow bridge, which was nice.

Crossing the river was easy this morning; the two or three cars behind me stayed far back as I slowly made it over the bridge.

Just past the bridge is a funky-looking  barbeque place. I stopped and looked around there for a while. It was still far too early for the place to be open, and I'm a vegetarian in any case, but they had some interesting old (and hand-lettered new) signs.

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My original destination yesterday had been Grand Rivers (population 371), which is a charming little village on the peninsula between Lake Barkley and Kentucky Lake. It was a couple of miles from the bridge to "downtown.".

On the way there I passed one of the most elaborate of the "anti-establishment", "anti-elite", "anti-whatever" displays that I've seen so many of the last four or five years.

A man had created a gigantic mural on the side of a building depicting the "sunset" of the USA, presumably caused by the recent defeat of his favored presidential candidate. There were also the obligatory signs making his displeasure known, including a large one stating that he was a member of "America, the Pissed Off!", or something along those lines.

I usually document interesting, nearly "folk art" scenes like this one with the heavy camera I'm carrying in my handlebar bag, but I didn't this time, because the guy was standing in his yard observing me as I slowed down to look.

Now that I reflect on this, I probably should have stopped and talked to him; After all, if he'd gone to all the trouble of creating all this, he was presumably proud of it, and wouldn't mind having it photographed, and its message disseminated to my many (dozens!) readers.

Instead, I wimped out, and rode on.

A little later a cyclist approached my on a road bike. I threw up my hand and waved, but he studiously ignored me. He was one of "those" cyclists - the aloof, super-serious ones. You just know he spends a lot of time making sure his cycling socks coordinates with his jersey, and that his sunglasses fit underneath his helmet strap (or is it over the helmet strap? I forget which is the "correct" way.)

I arrived in "downtown" Grand Rivers and stopped at one of my favorite places there: The Village Market. It's a small supermarket and deli. I walked back to the deli and had them make me a cheese Hunt Brothers pizza. It was still only 9- something in the morning, and the older lady there raised her eyebrow at my order, but cheerfully made it anyway.

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The lady told me she'd me give a smaller box to take any leftovers with me, but I just laughed and told her that would definitely not be necessary.

Not only did I have no trouble finishing the pizza, but I also ate a bag of chips and some granola bars.

After that I sat and talked to the lady for a while, and then rode about a mile to the entrance to the Land Between the Lakes. As soon as I made the turn into the National Recreation Area, the wind was in my face, as it would be for the next fifty, hilly miles.

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There are no private properties or commercial development in the LBL - just a few widely-spaced government visitor centers on the single paved road through the area.

Scenery is pleasant, but unvarying - mostly trees - and it's very, very hilly.

It was a pleasant day despite the unceasing wind. I stopped at the largest of the visitor centers for a while, bought a Diet Pepsi, and sat outside on a rock in the shade watching the tourists stream in and out.

A woman walked past me and said "It's an awfully windy day to be riding a bike!" I was in a good mood, so I just replied "Yep!"

The miles ticked by slowly. I entered Tennessee.

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Kathleen JonesI was recently there at that same spot, but alas not on a bike. Pretty country. I liked the LBL.
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3 years ago
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With two or three miles left before I exited the LBL, I stopped at the Tennessee Welcome Center. It's  much smaller than the other visitor centers, and it was staffed solely by an older lady, who was walking around picking up singles that had blown off the roof. She didn't notice me at first as I sat on a picnic table, and when I called out "Hello!", she was startled. I apologized for scaring her, and she told me in a thick country accent "Don't mind me - I'm just spooky!"

She also asked me if it wasn't "awful windy" to be riding a bike today. I told her that yes, it certainly was.

I considered buying a cold pop from the machine in front of the welcome center, but I didn't have the correct change. Instead I examined the warning on the front of the machine. Compared to the much older one I photographed yesterday in Robards, the image here seemed less dire: The little stick-man was not yet being crushed by the heavy machine, and there were no little lines drawn around him that (I presumed yesterday) indicated screams as he prepared to be crushed.

People sometimes ask me what I "think about all day" on the long days on my solo bike tours. Now you know.

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A few miles later I descended to the outskirts of Dover, greeted by this charming sign, then rode up the hill to the motel that caters primarily to deer hunters, and whose qualities are what you would likely infer from a place specializing in that clientele. Certainly good enough for a bicycle tourist.

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I checked in, walked down the hill to the Piggly Wiggle for some snacks, and then retired to my room before it started raining.

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Today's ride: 62 miles (100 km)
Total: 163 miles (262 km)

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Bob DistelbergWell, sounds like Day 2 was a whole lot better than Day 1, despite the wind. Here's hoping that trend continues.
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3 years ago