The Mo Mo Tour: Day 18 continued – That’s a Wrap

I went to the rental car place as soon as it opened. They did not have the SUV I reserved. Instead I settled for a white Dodge Charger. I was prepared to drive to WalMart up the hill to buy a bike rack if necessary but the Charger’s back seats folded down giving me room for The Mule and all my stuff. Impressive. (Note: I did have to take off the front wheel and lower my seat.)

The drive to Berea went on a parkway west to London and north to Berea on an interstate. It took about two hours because, despite my sporty car, my brain had been dealing with 3 to 35 miles per hour for over two weeks. Big trucks were zooming past me as I puttered along.

The terrain was very mountainous until I arrived at Berea (the second “e” is long). It was like someone threw a big geological switch; the town was basically flat.

The drive gave me time to think. The original point of this tour was for me to complete the eastern third of the TransAm. I had already bypassed 20 miles of it from Hindman to Hazard. Now I had blown off roughly 110 more in the car.

Most journals I read were all dated five or more years ago They made it sound like the dog problem was no big deal but the eastbound rider I met at the Cookie Lady’s house was still stressed out about his dog experiences in Kentucky over a week later. The hostel contact in Booneville sounded downright scary. The rental agency person in Hazard had all kinds of tales about indifferent dog (and pony!) owners. Owners who don’t neuter their animals so when the puppies get big enough they turn them loose in the woods. A person in Berea told me that Booneville is near an old coal mining area. Since strip mines have taken over, these old coal mining families are screwed and bitter.

(Another thought about doing chemical warfare with loose dogs: I have ridden past a half dozen gun shops, most of which displayed signs advertising AR-15 style semi automatic weapons. Gulp. My wife’s uncle Terry lives in southern West Virginia. When you drive onto his property there is a sign that say’s “You are in range.” Terry’s a pretty funny guy but I’m not entire sure he’s joking. And he isn’t economically distressed like these Kentucky folks. (I’m pretty sure Terry doesn’t have an AR-15 but

So I get to Berea and I have a choice. Do I continue on by bike in a totally stressed out mental state? I took two Advil PMs last night and still didn’t sleep a wink. I am physically and mentally exhausted. The dog problem is supposedly no big deal west of Berea but I really, really, really do not want to deal with them anymore. It was time to call it a tour and head home.

So I investigated my options. I can fly for free on Southwest with credit card points so I checked to see where the nearest airport was on Southwest’s route system. It was Louisville, about 160 miles by bike. Not gonna happen. I called U-Haul in Berea. They only had a 15-foot truck which would have cost over $500. Nope. However, the U-Haul guy said to talk to the car rental agency in Berea. Maybe there was something we could work out.

So I went to the car rental agency and talked with Chelsea, a very intelligent and personable person. She said it was indeed possible to do a one-way rental. All she had to do was talk to someone up the corporate food chain. That person freed up her software to allow her access to interstate one-way rentals. So we closed out my rental agreement from Hazard and opened a new one. Recognizing that I had been needlessly charged for the Hazard to Berea rental, she marked down the price of my trip from Berea to home. Chelsea is the best,

So for the cost of having someone pack and ship my bike, I hit the road in a sports car, driving over 500 miles from Kentucky to home. Google Maps has a sense of humor. It routed me through central West Virginia on two-lane mountain roads for about an hour.

Now that I’ve had a day to mull it over, I can’t exactly call this a failure. After all, I did end up riding 840 miles which is more miles than my 2000, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2015, and 2016 tours.

That said, I have to admit that my last two tours have been a mental challenge for me. I love the riding parts of the tours. I won’t soon forget the fantastic ride to Damascus on this tour, for example. But I can really live without church hostels, campgrounds, Warmshowers homes, hotels, lousy GSCS food, etc. As my toddler son used to say over 25 years ago, “I want to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed.”

My advice to anyone who is planning to do the TransAm is: don’t. It’s glory days are long gone. The dog situation in Kentucky is just one example. Many of the towns in Kansas on the route are virtual ghost towns. The traffic in eastern Oregon is godawful. The legendary bike accommodations in Guffey CO are dreadful.

When the TransAm was designed in the mid-1970s, touring bikes were heavy and had ten-speeds and only rear racks. I can’t imagine how the first riders did the whole 4,000+ miles. (A friend who participated in Bikecentennial, the 1976 event for which the TransAm was established said that she was doing fine until Kentucky. Her knees were trashed when she finally left the Appalachians.

There is a new alternative to the eastern half of the TransAm. The Eastern Express goes from DC to Colorado in a more or less straight line. It was designed specifically to avoid the dogs and hills of Appalachia and the Ozarks. Or design your own route as I did in 2018.

And for a two-week tour, Yorktown to Damascus isn’t bad idea.

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 17 – Hindman to Hazard area

I neglected to mention an interaction with three old guys at a filling station. I stopped to buy a cold drink but this was an old fashioned filling station. Just car repairs and gas. The old men spoke mountain English. Fortunately I could understand most of what they said. “There’s a Faniky Dollar just up the road.”!one of them got up and fetched a cold bottle of water from his pickup and poured it into my empty bike bottle. Nice guy.

I should also mention the ten-year-old boy who helped me take my things up the stairs to the hostel.

I hung out in the hostel playing word games on my phone and trying not to think of steep hills and aggressive dogs. I skipped breakfast because mass quantities of pizza were still working their way through my tummy.

The hostel room is up some stairs from the street so it took some time to get started. I hit the road around 9:30. Two miles later I came upon this.

A bridge was being replaced. This area of Kentucky was devastated by severe flooding in 2022. This bridge was one of the victims.

There was a steep, narrow dirt path on the other side of the equipment. At best I could get through in 15 minutes; at worst I could tumble over the side and die a quick death in the river. Now that I think about it, maybe I have that backwards.

I looked at Google maps and decided to improvise a detour. I backtracked to Hindman (just a couple of bored old dogs along the way). I headed over to Kentucky state highway 80, a four-lane road with very wide shoulders and rumble strips.

One kind of rumble strip was narrow and deep. If you hit them at speed you have to stop and pick up your filings. In Kentucky these strips are continuous, only broken when a side road intersects with the highway. That means you can’t cheat by using the travel lane then cutting through a gap in the rumble strip to safety.

The other kind of strip was quite shallow and spanned the entire paved shoulder (which was often 20-feet or more wide). I preferred the latter. It was no bumpier than the backroads.

After a long climb I came upon a detour sign that indicated I could return to my planned TransAm route. Nope. I like this four lane just fine. The only dogs I heard were caged at an animal shelter I passed.

Highway 80 – like riding out west. Note the deep rumble strip on the left.

The highway cut through the tops of mountains that came about one mile apart. The climbs were significant but not very steep. No walking today.

It’s a good thing today is another cool day because there was absolutely no shade on the highway.

After about a dozen of these hills I saw a sign for WalMart. I knew there was one across from my hotel but I wasn’t expecting it yet. Sure enough my hotel was only a quarter mile farther.

The Walmart was part of a shopping district on the top of one of the mountains. I’ve seen this in West Virginia.

There are several eateries in this flattop complex. I chose Wendy’s for lunch. A chicken wrap really hit the spot. I lingered to kill time until check in.

There’s a rental car agency next to the hotel. It has dozens of shiny cars. So tempting until I googled a return route to home. THERE’S NO WAY OUT OF HERE!!!

Tomorrow is a long, hilly one with more dogs and a possible flood-related detour.

Miles today: 22

Tour miles: 840

Final note: Today is my 36th wedding anniversary. Wife and me: 36. Trump felony conviction: 34.

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 16 – Breaks Interstate Park, Virginia to Hindman, Kentucky

This was a day that had it all. Which is not necessarily a good thing.

I slept poorly despite the lovely accommodations. I was groggy for the first ten miles. This is not a good thing because the road conditions here are bad. The shoulder of backroads often is a drainage ditch. Also, there were countless places where flooding broken off the edge of the road.

The day began with salad for breakfast because the park restaurant was closed. And because the salad would not have lasted much longer in my front left pannier.

I rolled out at 8 headed for Hindman, over 70 miles away because the small towns that used to offer shelter to bike tourists stopped doing so. No idea why.

I descended into the town of Breaks where I met a big floof of a dog at the side of the road. He seemed harmless and let out a WOOF then I started past him then he started growling. He began to chase me. In no time at all he had sunk a tooth into my right rear pannier. I was pissed! I stopped and, with the bike between us, confronted the dog. His face said,”Uh, oh.”

Then I began stalking him in a short green space along the road. He was totally freaked out. Where do I go? What do I do?

My actions caused him to completely disengage. Lesson learned.

I descended into Kentucky and came to the town of Elkhorn City.

There was a proper sign a mile with the Governor’s name on it later but this one sufficed.

I had decided to put my dog whistle in my mouth. A dog started trotted down a side road from a county building. I blew hard on the whistle and the dog seemed to say “fuck it“ and went back to the building. The problem with the dog whistle is that it is metal and rough on the teeth when bouncing along bumpy roads.

The country roads for most of my route passed homes, about half of which had a dog. Every so often I’d see a loose dog running toward the road. I tried my horn but discovered that it doesn’t work well when it’s not held vertically with the horn on the top of the gas cylinder. It did deter one dog, however.

Later two dogs started to give chase. The horn was peeking out and of my handlebar bag attached using Velcro. I hit the horn button three times and the dogs disengaged. Not bad.

Still the idea of waiting for a dog to be in full flight seemed like a bad strategy. So every time I saw a dog or dogs running toward the road, I stopped. This did away with panic pedaling with a dog snarling along side me. Instead the dogs chase instinct was short circuited. I still had to get past the dog but at least I now had some control over the situation. (When I watched a YouTube video describing this technique I thought the guy was insane. He has it right.) Of course, doing this slows my progress but after the dog disengages I’m much less stressed out.

One time a dog came off his porch and ran straight at me on a walkway perpendicular to the street. I stopped at the end of the walkway and told him to “Get in the porch” and he did.

Later I was chased by three small dogs. One of them was an old dachshund bitch that just wouldn’t disengage. I pulled out my mace and gave it a shot but she had pivoted in response to her owner and I only sprayed her butt.

The last dog was a somewhat muscular looking mutt. I stopped and yelled. There were kids and parents hanging out on a lawn about 50 yards from the road. They clearly didn’t give a shit about my predicament. After five minutes of my pleading with them to get their dog, they sent a ten-year-old girl to get it. The dog eluded her and kept harassing me. I appealed to the adults on the lawn but they didn’t budge. “He won’t bite you.” It took a good ten more minutes to gradually escape the situation with the help of pickups coming in both directions.

Dogs around here don’t chase motor vehicles. It’s something about the sound of a bike that sets them off.

There were five steep climbs on the route. I walked part of four of them, probably for a total of five miles. It sucked.

Backroads were pretty but the dog attacks ruined any ability to enjoy the scenery. Whenever I passed a building within sight of the road I went into scan mode.

The route did feature some fun downhills. One dog tried to give chase when I was hauling ass down one of these and the dog seemed to realize that he couldn’t catch me and stopped running.

I was on highways a couple of times. They were flat and had decent shoulders (marred, however, by rumble strips). It’s fun to cruise along at 15 to 18 mph and not have to worry about dogs.

I’m staying at another church hostel. These are big community rooms that have limited amenities. This one has a shower and a washer and dryer. There’s a take away pizza place across the street. I ate a medium all by myself. It was mediocre, a step above the Hunt Brothers variety on sale in every GSCS.

See. It’s pretty. Note the absence of dogs or an old man pushing a bike up a steep hill.

Mikes today: 71.5

Tour Miles: 818

Tomorrow I have the choice of a 60+ mile ride to a camping hostel at a church in Booneville or a semi-rest day of 20 miles to a hotel in Combs. I’ll decide when I wake up. Right now my back hurts and my hamstrings are so tight that I fall backward when I stand.

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 14 – Damascus to Elk Garden

The hostel was quite cold last night. And my knees were aching from yesterday’s hill fest. I didn’t sleep well.

At 8 I walked the block to the Damascus Diner where I ate dinner last night. I ordered “The Hogg” and I felt like one after eating it.

Before leaving town I stopped at a bike shop to use their floor pump. Next I headed along rolling country roads to Meadowview. It was a net gain of 100 feet of elevation over 15 miles.

The next 5.7 miles are a descent of about 500 feet to the town of Hayters (rhymes with highters) Gap.

Shortly after the town came the 3-mile, wooded climb to the eponymous gap at 3,000 feet. Fortunately, no trucks are allowed on this road so it is relatively safe despite numerous switchbacks.

I made the first mile without much difficulty. I could tell the grade was increasing with each switchback. I decided to climb 1/3rd to 1/2 mile then rest. This worked well for a mile. I stopped to rest and put both feet on the ground. When I went to start pedaling again, I couldn’t get enough momentum to keep from toppling over.

So I started walking. I soon discovered that pedaling bike up a grade at 3.2 mph is much harder than pushing it bike up at 2.9 mph. So I walked the last mile to the top.

The descent was equally steep, so much so that I stopped twice to let my rims cool.

I stopped for the day at a United Methodist Church bike hostel at Elk Garden, 33.5 miles for the day.

I’m accompanied by Peter from Los Angeles who is traveling light and arrived from Troutdale.

Tomorrow’s destination is the lodge at Breaks Interstate Park. Their restaurant closes at 4 and doesn’t reopen until Tuesday so I need to get up and ride. It’s about 50 miles with some short, steep hills.

Miles today: 33.5

Tour miles: 703

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 13 – Whytheville to Damascus

Yesterday was the “I want my mommy” day of this tour. It ranks as one of the of the ten worst days I’ve ever spent on a bike.

Today was the “Who’s your daddy?” day. the last 20 miles are among the best I’ve ever ridden.

I slept in two to three hour spurts. Mindful of comments about my diet being rather inadequate to the task at hand, I had bacon and eggs with coffee for hotel breakfast.

Last night in a search to purge weight from my bags I found four BelVita packs and four apples. I decided not to grab food for the road from the hotel. Time to consume the consumables.

Before leaving I cleaned and lubed my chain and put a drop of lube on various places on my cables and derailers. Ready to roll.

I coasted downhill for a stop at WalMart then rejoined the route in downtown Whytheville. I didn’t feel very good but decided to continue anyway. On top of the brutal hills, I’ve been dealing with pollen issues for several days. Having sinuses filled with gunk makes me drowsy.

The route took me southwest on Lee Highway, US 11, the old main route through the Shenandoah Valley. Traffic was light and drivers gave me plenty of space. More importantly, the grade of the road was gentle, rarely exceeding 2 or 3 percent, despite what my map’s elevation profile said.

I seemed to be getting stronger by the mile. A light headwind didn’t seem to be slowing me. I came to Rural Retreat and stopped at an Amish-run bakery and coffee shop for second breakfast.

Note the sign at lower left that says “ Yoder’s”, an Amish name.

As luck would have it, today is National Doughnut Day. I bought a cup of coffee and was treated to a huge glazed doughnut. So much for my dietary improvements.

The best things in life are free. And big.

About a quarter mile later, I went into a grocery store and bought dinner, a big turkey and egg salad. My planned destination was a church hostel in Troutdale. There is no food there or in town so it’s BYOS.

According to the elevation profile, I had climbed about 200 feet to 2,500 feet.

I was now headed south toward Cedar Springs and Sugar Grove. Gradually I was gaining more elevation but I really didn’t notice. The wind was no longer on my face and I was locked in. I call it The Trance.

I was buzzing along on this two-lane country road, admiring the scenery and chatting with the cows and goats and horses grazing near the roadside. I look up and there are two cars coming toward me in the other lane. A third car starts to pass them in my lane!

The driver was an old lady with a permanent, white hair stacked up on her head like a helmet. She was taking her time. Coming right at me. No worries. I pulled off the road onto a mowed lawn. Old lady never blinked an eye as she drove by.

At Sugar Grove I started the six-mile climb through the Mount Rogers Recreation Area to Troutdale. The ride wound through a beautiful forest. The grade was gradual. I just kept buzzing along. A raging creek and wild pink flowering bushes running along the road. My legs never tired. I stopped at the top for a snack then flew down the two-miles to Troutdale. Big fun.

I arrived in Troutdale at 1:15. I’d ridden 38 miles, the weather couldn’t have been better, and my mind and body were ready for more. What a contrast to yesterday.

I was at about 3,500 feet before the descent to 3,000 at Troutdale. I decided to ride 23 miles to Damascus. More gradual climbing to 3,700 feet then a couple more short climbs. None of the climbs bothered me in the least. I was cookin’ with gas. And the scenery was perfecto.

I could have taken dozens more but I didn’t want to spoil my downhills

I had the option to ride the Virginia Creeper Trail for the last 13 miles into Damascus. I didn’t bother. The road was a total blast, gently winding this way and that down to Damascus at 2,000 feet.

I’m staying at The Place, the first hostel to cater to hikers on the Appalachian Trail. It has been welcoming TransAm cyclists since Bikecentennial in 1976.

This must be The Place. The Mule abides.

I am two miles from Tennessee. I’ll save that state for a Natchez Trace ride in 2025.

Tomorrow is a short ride to a church hostel in Rosedale. The midway climb over Hayter’s Gap is 1,500 steep feet. These boots are made for walkin’.

I’ve booked a room at the lodge at The Breaks Interstate Park on the Kentucky border for Sunday.

Thanks to all the readers who bolstered my spirits after yesterday.

Miles today: 59

Tour miles: 668.5

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 10 – Troutville to Christiansburg

I didn’t sleep well last night, probably because I washed down my Subway (the closest place to the hotel) meatball sandwich with a 24 ounce beer.

I did myself proud at the breakfast bar, finishing with two apples and two bananas for the road.

I rode on a local highway to get back to the route, stopping at a Kroger on the way. I picked up some Bel Vita cookies and some flatbread (I ate my tortillas back in Lexington.)

The temperature was already in the 70s so I knew I was in for a warm day.

Back on the road I took Catawba Road west towards Gravelly Ridge. After ten miles I stopped to eat an apple and banana. The two-lane country road was busy with dump trucks. I heard a massive explosion in the distance. Soon I passed Roanoke Cement, the mining company that blows up mountains and processes the rocks (and coal, apparently).

After the mine, I encountered sawtooth terrain, one short, steep hill after another. Combined with the increasing heat, these hills were beating up my legs and my mental state. I pushed The Mule over the top of three of them, all the while thinking how will I ever do the truly big climbs head?

The road surface wasn’t helping. An especially bad part was the descent to a creek bridge full of huge potholes.

I crossed into Montgomery County and the road leveled out. Even better I hit a five-mile section of new asphalt. I stopped for a quick snack before attacking the last third of the day’s miles.

The skies behind me were darkening as a scary looking cloud formation, flat and dark, came over the ridge to my left.

I started to look for shelter as I rode. That porch looks okay. That barn will work. But I kept pedaling, now with slightly cooler temperatures and a strong tailwind. My body and mind were feeling much better.

I knew from the elevation profile in my maps that the ride climbs 500 feet in only a few miles just before the finish. I stopped in the town of Ellett to fortify myself with Gatorade and ice cream at a CSCS.

About two miles later the climb began. I’d ride until my heart and respiratory rates were maxing out. After a few minutes, I’d get back to work. The third time I did this I was weak in the legs, making restarting dangerous; I could wobble in front of a car or into the ditch next to the road.

I pushed The Mule up around a bend and there was the top at last. As it turns out, Christiansburg is at 2,000 feet of elevation.

Once into Christiansburg, I rode to nearby I-81 where my hotel is located. The front desk clerk informed me that it was 89 degrees outside.

As I’m writing this a classic summer thunderstorm erupted outside.

Tomorrow is a short mileage day to a highly recommended Warmshowers host in Draper. They won’t be ready for me until 4 p.m. so I planning on sleeping in.

Miles today: 49.5

Tour miles: 547

After the sawtooth section I saw this. I’m saved!!! Alas, it was closed

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 9 – Lexington to Troutville

My Warmshowers stay was excellent. Not only did I do laundry and take a nap, but I had a fabulous dinner and breakfast cooked by Dirk and Chrissie my hosts.

I hit the road around 8:30. The first couple of miles contained an unexpected set of rollers into Lexington. I rode through the campuses of the Virginia Military Institute and Washington and Lee University.

After that the route turned into back country roads. There were streams and forests and deer and cows and calves and goats and sheep and a bunny. There were landed estates way off the road fronted by massive lawns and a row of hillbilly shacks that seemed impossible to live in (but of course they were). Most of the homes fell in between these extremes.

Off to my right were the Short Hills, a rather imposing ridge line. The route skirted them all day. I spent probably more than half the day along a stream, a rail line, I-81, or US 11, all of which run along the southern Shenandoah Valley.

Whenever the route left these features, I found myself grinding up a short, steep hill.

At 20 miles, near Natural Bridge, I stopped for a snack at a GSCS (Gas Station Convenience Store): a pint of Arnold Palmer, a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, and a CPB ( cherry pie in a box).

I checked to see if the hostel had responded to my request for lodging. Not getting one (until just now at 6 p.m.) I booked a room in the Comfort Inn in Troutville.

My legs were pretty tired after the climbing of the last two days. The food brought them back to life for a while.

In the town of Buchanan, 33 miles into the day, I had lunch in a bar. (The town’s other two eateries are closed on Mondayso.) The bartender/cook went about her business with a cig in her lips. I only eat at the finest establishments.

I ate a fried bologna sandwich with a side of fries, washed down with nearly a half gallon of iced tea and water.

At this point, temperatures had risen into the mid-80s. The AC in the bar did as much for me as the food.

Back on the road I headed for Troutville. I came to a barrier across the road. Eastbound Greg had warned me at the Cookie Lady’s house that there was a road closure. When he encountered it, there was no warning so he convinced the road crew that they should let him pass. I wasn’t going to take a chance when I could see on Google Maps an alternate route.

Blue Mountain Road had three steep climbs. When I hit to the third one I stopped midway up to catch my breath. Two golden retrievers behind a fence came over to urge me to move on. They were harmless so we had a chat. Woof. Sit. Woof. Go home. Woof. Later.

I was 100 feet from the top so I decided to push my bike up, probably saving my knees in the process. I turned onto Lee Highway, US 11, and headed south.

There wasn’t much of a shoulder but there was even less traffic. After a few miles I reconnected with the route only to hit a steep hill just outside of Troutville. Again I rode most of the way and walked the rest. No hurries.

The ride into Troutville was a twisty 30 mph whee!

My hotel was a mile off route on Lee Highway. I checked in just before 3 and called it a day.

My wife texted me. I’ve been called for jury duty in mid-July. I figure I can finish this tour as planned by June 30, but jury duty would kill extending the tour. That may not be a bad thing. In any case I can reschedule.

For those of you wondering what the climbs I’ve been doing look like take a look at this elevation profile. The horizontal lines are increments of 1,000 feet.

The last two days were that big bump in the middle

Miles today: 50

Tour miles: 497.5

I think that’s Short Hills in the distance.

The Mo Mo Tour: Launch Eve

Well, for a start, the tour has a name. Since I’m riding to Missouri that’s one Mo. it’ll be my third time in Missouri so that’s mo’ Mo. I’m going beyond Missouri that’s mo’ riding. Since I’m dealing with the Appalachian and Ozark Mountains, we have mo’ mountains. If successful I’ll be adding three mo’ states (Kentucky, Arkansas, and Oklahoma) to my 50 states hunt.

The plan is to ride south to Ashland Virginia where I will pick up the Transamerica Trail. I’ll head west on the TransAm all the way to western part of Missouri thereby completing my personal TransAm. (I did the other two thirds of the Trail in 2019 and 2022.) After that the plan is to ride south to northwest Arkansas and then west to Tulsa, Oklahoma (and maybe Oklahoma City). How I’m getting back is anybody’s guess.

Saturday

For the first time in a week, I managed eight hours of sleep. Gabapentin is my jam.

The weather was lousy outside. Rain. Humid. Dank. Perfect.

I spent the afternoon, amassing the stuff I need for the tour. I started by emptying my saddlebag. It must weight 10 or 15 pounds! Spare tube, tire levers, patch kits, and pump were transferred to the “tour” pile. The bag became the “home” pile.

Next I grabbed a bunch of white kitchen garbage bags and some zip lock bags. I use the former as a liner for my allegedly water proof panniers. The latter contain small items organized by use.

My right rear pannier was first to load. Sleeping bag, sleeping pad, pillow, camp towel, camp washcloth, rope, clothes pins, and maps and medications I won’t need for the first ten days. I’m also packing a wire mesh bag for my food for camping in the mountains.

The left rear pannier contains clothing (for off bike and on), swim trunks, rain gear, a floppy hat, toiletries and daily medications, and sandals. Rain gear is in a separate bag. An empty bag is reserved for dirty clothing. I’ll also add a small bag with electronic stuff like cables, plugs, and batteries tomorrow. My back-up prescription glasses go in the bottom.

The front panniers are smaller. The front right pannier contains anything I need for bike maintenance. Tire changing stuff goes in one zip lock. Spare tubes in another. Tools (allen keys), a wrench, a master link tool, go in yet another. Small items like valve stems, my fiber fix spokes (a cord that can substitute for a broken spoke), and such go in a third. I also stashed a couple of cables in a small insert built into the pannier.

The front left pannier contains stuff I will need easy access to. Mostly this is food, my lock, sunscreen, butt cream, a back up water bottle when needed. (I decided to leave my water bladder at home.) I also included one small bottle of pickle juice and and another of electrolyte tablets.

The handlebar bag will hold my phone and headphones, wallet, dog defenses (whistle, horn, and mace), a pen, my map(s) of the day, prescription sunglasses, a power pack, a headlight, some pickle juice, electrolyte tablets, and snacks.

Finally, I will have a dry bag containing my tent, stakes, ground cloth, and collapsible cane.

Now you see why it took four hours to organize all this stuff. It will weigh a lot; it always does. In my experience the weight isn’t much of a problem – I’ll be going about 10 miles per hour – except for the hills. My biggest concern is how my body will hold up. I’ve done a number of 50-mile rides in recent weeks but my back and neck issues are utterly unpredictable. Lord knows, how they will hold up to tent camping. Even when in good shape, I have struggled to sleep well outdoors. Advil, Advil PM, and Gabapentin will help in that regard.

Sunday

Today I loaded The Mule with all the bags and went for a one-mile test ride. I tweaked a few things as a result and all seems fine. My last task is to go for a ride to a bike store for done butt cream packets.

The Mule with everything except toiletries, meds, cables, and batteries.

It being a nice day I decided to ride Big Nellie. On the way to Old Town we rode across the now officially opened Dyke Marsh Bridge.

Day one promises to be very long, 70 to 85 miles depending on where I stay tomorrow night in or near Fredericksburg Virginia.

Watch this space.

Tour Prep Continued – Dogs

With the start of my tour about three weeks away, I continue to stress out about the aggressive dog situation in Kentucky and Missouri. Last night I watched some YouTube videos about dealing with dogs while riding. Many of them suggest slowing down. (My reaction: AYFKM!) Often the dog will sense victory and back off. They say that you cannot outrun a dog. (This is poppycock. I’ve outrun several.) If the dog doesn’t disengage, dismount, keeping your bike between you and the dog. (This is insanity. I was out for a ride in my home town when a hyper-aggressive dog made a run for me. The dog blocked my way so I dismounted. It was a standoff for the better part of 30 minutes. Needless to say, I was terrified.) My friend Charmaine often stops and just calmly talks to the dog. It works for her somehow. A third idea is to throw small objects like roadside rocks or gravel at the dog. No need to hit the animal. Or even better you can fake like your throwing something. The dog will disengage. (This makes sense to me.)

Letter carriers use Halt or some other pepper spray product. I had a small can of Halt on a mount attached to the handlebars of Big Nellie on three bike tours in the mid 2000s. I never used it but it provided peace of mind. Halt is preferred to other products because it comes out as a stream not a mist, meaning it’s less likely to end up getting blow into your eyes. Amazingly, I found the can the other day and it still works. I can’t seem to find the mount though.

I was once attacked by a huge, aggressive dog in Belle Haven Park on the Mount Vernon Trail near my home. I was riding Big Nellie and didn’t have pepper spray. Seeing the dog’s teeth at eye level was pretty scary. I ended up going off the trail and crashing. The dog declared victory and went back to its master. I called the police. They came in minutes.

A few weeks ago, I bought a small air horn. It’s intended use is to alert bears to your presence while hiking. Yesterday I was discussing dogs with Beth at Bikes at Vienna. They don’t sell Halt but she showed me a similar, considerably larger horn that the shops sells. She also told me about a customer who rode a recumbent trike across the country and used a dog whistle of some sort. This is makes all kinds of sense to me. Since you can put it on a lanyard and hang it around your neck, it means you can have easy access without letting go of the handlebars. (My friend Reba uses a referee’s whistle instead of a bike bell.) I am riding to a local CVS to get one today.

Other options include spraying the dog with water from your water bottle or spraying the dog with bug repellent (the stuff tastes nasty). This comes out as a mist and can backfire.

As a last resort you can yell at the dog. My 2019 and 2023 biking buddy Mark simply yelled “GO HOME!” and, according to Corey his wingman, the dog would stop chasing him. Others online suggest “GET OFF THE COUCH!”.

So I plan on a multi-tiered approach. Sound first. Rock throwing second. Pepper spray third.

If you have any additional suggestions, let me know in the comments.

Tour Options for 2024

It’s starting to warm up and my thoughts are turning to a spring/summer bike tour. I have pared my ideas down to two tours, all originating from home and involving parts of the Atlantic Coast, Trans America, and Great Rivers South routes designed by the Adventure Cycling Association.

Pre-tour Jitters

I have some trepidation about this tour. Of course, pre-tour worry and anxiety is nothing new. It is tempting to let these feelings snowball, what Buddhists call papañca. There is some usefulness to anticipating problems, of course, but, left unchecked, this sort of mental proliferation can ruin your tour. About 50 miles into my 760-mile DC-to-Indiana tour, I was making myself miserable with pointless worrying. I stopped and gave myself a mental dressing down: “You’re on vacation. Relax. If bad things happen, you’ll figure them out.” It worked.

My list of worries is short. For a start, I am not a kid anymore. I was a youngster when I rode across the US alone in 2018 at the age of 62. I’m now 68 and don’t I know it. I have nagging physical issues with my lumbar and cervical spine. Also, I have the usual age-related reduction in muscle strength. The only cure for these things is to walk when I need to and to shorten my riding days to the extent practicable.

A second concern is dogs. The route I am taking is notorious for aggressive dogs. In the past I brought a small can of pepper spray. I never once used it gave me peace of mind. It occurs to me that on a windy day or on a downhill I am likely to spray myself. Yeah, let’s do 25 miles per hour downhill on a bumpy road with a snarling junk yard dog at my heels and get a load of pepper spray in my face. Nope. I am going to find a small horn of some sort and hope for the best.

Weather is always a concern. Since I am heading south, I am sure to encounter much more heat and humidity than last year. I’ll need to stay hydrated and take breaks. Depending on which route I take I’ll could be dealing with serious headwinds.

The topography is a bit intimidating. Like last summer, I’ll be crossing the Appalachian Mountains for a good chunk of the tour. In my mind’s eye this means steep climbs straight up one mountain after the next. That’s not how it works, of course, and I never seem to remember that those climbs are followed by descents.

Now, let’s consider the options.

Option 1: Finish the Trans Am

I have about left over 1,000 miles of the TransAmerica route unfinished: from Ashland, Virginia (just north of Richmond) to Ash Grove, Missouri (just east of the Kansas border). I’d ride south about 110 miles to Ashland then bang a right on the TransAm. And follow it over 1,400 miles to Ash Grove.

A big advantage of this part of the route is the lodging situation. There are something like 21 inexpensive places to stay including campgrounds, town parks, fire houses, hostels, churches, and such. Another advantage is the fact that I will encounter bike tourists along the way thanks to the popularity of the TransAm.

After Ash Grove it makes sense to me, at least, to ride south to Bentonville, Arkansas. This would take about two days and add 110 miles. There’s all kinds of flights to DC from this city thanks to the fact that it is the home of Wal-Mart.

Beyond Bentonville is the possibility of picking off Oklahoma. Tulsa is three days and 130 miles west. Add another 150 miles on old Route 66 and I’d be in Oklahoma City, another city with several flights to DC. All told, DC to Oklahoma City would make for a tour of about 2,000 miles. Tulsa and Oklahoma City have the added benefit of being on Southwest Airlines’ network, meaning I’d probably fly home for free.

Option 2: Laissez Les Bon Tons Roulez

This town is identical to the tour above until Marion, Kentucky just south of Cave-in-Rock. At Marion, I would pick up Adventure Cycling’s Great Rivers South Route, taking that to the start of the Natchez Trace near Nashville. With the exception of a detour to Muscle Shoals, Alabama to take in a bit of music history, I’d ride to Natchez, Mississippi. After that, it’s a few days of riding to New Orleans. The total mileage is about 2,100. Theoretically, I could take a train home from New Orleans but it would take at least 26 hours.

I once had a business trip to Louisiana in April and could not believe how humid it was. Add ten or 15 degrees and you get pure misery. It probably would make more sense to just fly to Nashville, do the ride to New Orleans, and fly home. That would be about 900 miles and would take me about a month.

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