Adventurer

The woman from Holland that I ran into the other day was not lying when she said she was going to send in a story to the local newspaper. An article authored by Truus Leader was found in the Northwest Signal the day after I met her. You can find the article she wrote as well as a picture of me at the following link:

http://www.northwestsignal.net/articles/2009/09/04/news/doc4aa113febc2e3889705164.img

The article was titled "Adventurer." That's got a nice ring to it, maybe ill change the title of this blog to "The Red Adventurer" or "AdventuRED" or "I was the subject of an article in a small town newspaper titled Adventurer". Naw, I think Ill just stick with The Red Rider.

The past couple of days have been host to some firsts for me. The list of these follows:

- I saw a wild dog. It was a Shiatsu. As I came down a country rode a dog looked at me and immediately started running as fast as it could away from me. After about 100 yards, I pulled up next and saw that it was a Shiatsu just before it ran into a soy bean field. I have always wondered what a pack of wild Shiatsu's would look like, and though it wasn't a pack I feel like I finally got a glimpse. Dreams really do come true.

- Shortly after seeing the wild Shiatsu, I rode past a few interesting carcasses. The first was a beaver, the second a turkey buzzard, and finally someones well-groomed Westie, collar still on it. The beaver was a surprise because I have only seen one on the trip and it was in Oregon. The Turkey Buzzard was shocking because it was so large and I have never seen such a massive bird up close, even dead. However, the Westie was the find of the month because as I came up to it I thought it was some kind of pillow or something. I slowed down as I passed it and noticed the collar and finally I saw its face. It had a look on its face as if it was just hanging its head out the window of a car and enjoying the smells when the driver hit a bump and out went Princess. I don't know how long it had been sitting there, but I was surprised that nobody had moved it out of the road. It was right outside of a town and a stop sign.

- Somewhere in either Ohio or Indiana I found myself at a non-participating McDonald's. At the end of every McDonald's commercial, you will hear the words "Only at PARTICIPATING McDonald's." I have never paid attention to it and simply assumed that all of them were participating. This is not the case. Everyone knows what they are going to order when they go into a McDonald's, and for me it is always a $1 large drink, a McDouble Cheeseburger, and a McChicken sandwich. All of these items are off of the Dollar Menu and apparently are optional menu items for McDonald's owners. After listing off my order, the woman looked at me as if I had just ordered a Whopper, 30 Sliders, and a Gordita Crunch. I was shocked to hear the words, "I am sorry sir, we don't have any of those things." I was appalled! I chuckled and replied with "this is McDonald's, what do mean you don't have those things? Every other McDonald's between here and the Pacific has had them." I was clearly upset by this. "Yes sir but we don't participate in the promotions." A non participating McDonald's...this is the kind of thing that would throw an OCD person into a seizure.

- The final first of the trip was Confederate flags that were flown in front of 2 houses and swastikas were found not far away. I expected to see signs of America's divided past at some point, but didn't expect that it would be in Ohio.

Several times in my life I have heard the saying, "Every man needs a vice." I am not sure if this is a quote or what it is, but I was thinking about it the other day. I realized that if there is one thing that I over consume or indulge in excessively, its donuts. Now you may consider donuts to be relatively healthy as far as vices are concerned, but if you are thinking this, you have obviously never seen me consume donuts. Its really becoming a problem. The other day I stopped in a gas station to get a donut and some coffee after about 30 miles of riding. As I reached for the tissue paper I noticed a box of 1 dozen donuts for $2 with a sticker saying "Day Old". The sticker didn't phase me as I put down the tissue paper and picked up the box of donuts. I packed all 12 of them away before I left the gas station.

Two nights ago I camped in an RV park. It was a huge lot right off of Interstate 80/90 and marketed as a camp site for families visiting Cedar Point. There were about 100 camp sites, but only about 4 of them filled. One of the sites was taken by an old guy named Dick and his Golden Retriever Bonnie. As I came close to them Bonnie started barking ran out to the street. After setting up camp, I walked past them again and received the same welcome from Bonnie, but this time I stopped to say hi. Dick and Bonnie were out touring around in their camper called "Cub". Dick is an 81 year old retired school bus driver that is the spitting image of Brooks Hadlin, the old man/librarian in the Shawshank Redemption. Dick just lost his wife a little over a year ago to Diabetes. He is one of the saddest/most depressed looking guys that I have met in a long time. Since his wife past, he says he has been spending almost all of his time either at their house or in the parks that they used to enjoy going to. The camp that we were staying at happened to be one of their favorite spots. One thing he kept repeating was "there are so many memories here." I can't describe how bad I felt for the guy. I talked with him for a bit and watched part of the Bears vs. Browns game that he had playing in the window of the camper. While talking, he started to remind me of the book that I was reading, "Travels with Charley." The story is John Steinbeck's account of traveling around the United States with his dog Charley to satisfy a desire for adventure. Though I had not finished the copy of the book that my friend Tim had given to me, I decided to give it to Dick with the hope that he would read it and it would encourage him to go out and see the world or try something new. I promised myself that I would buy the book the next time I saw a book store and finish reading it. Dick was very grateful for the book and even asked for my address so that he could write me his thoughts on it. I ate breakfast and had a cup of coffee with him in the morning before I left. Upon hopping on the bike, he said to me "You take care now Red, ride with Jesus...ride with Jesus." I look forward to hearing from Dick and Bonnie and their adventures on the rode.

-Red

I enjoy spaghetti!

Recently there have been lots of signs for online dating. This got me thinking of what my profile would look like if I had an online dating account.

Hi I'm Red...literally. I'm 6'4", about 200lbs with well defined tan lines, barely visible eyebrows and some heavy duty saddle bags. I like long bike rides and talking to myself on back country roads. I'm looking for someone who enjoys quoting youtube videos and is willing to smother me with sunscreen. You can find me on Youtube by searching keyword: techno viking.

Ohio is confusing to me. Most of the really small, backwoods, podunk towns that I visit here have been some of the friendliest and most hospitable. But when I arrive in a medium sized town (10-30 thousand people) I get harassed more than in most other states. In 3 separate towns, 3 different women shouted things at me from their cars. Surprisingly, or maybe not, all of them fit the same description: between 40-60 years of age, driving an early 90's Chevy Astro Van(not the nice one with the 10" TV and VCR, just a standard Astrovan), missing several front teeth, and wearing a white t-shirt. I only caught. What one of them said and it confused the hell out of me. As I rode past her while she was stopped at a stop light, she stuck her head out the window and shouted "you better ride your ass off!" I was not sure how to take this comment. Was this woman hitting on me or was she about to reach for a gun? Either way I took her advice and got the hell out of Defiance, IN.

I did meet one very nice lady from Holland though. Her name was Truus Leader and she thought my bike ride was an great story, so good in fact that she asked if she could write about me in the local paper. I agreed after she gave me a bar of chocolate and was offering to buy me other things at the Walmart where I ran into her. I was amused by her impressions of her new home in Napoleon, IN and how backwards she thought the place was.
I spoke with her and her dog Lulu (yeah I talk to dawgs...what of it!) For a bit and then continued on my way.

-Marcus

Hoosier Hospitality

I am a few short miles from the Indiana/ Ohio border and though I have only spent 2 days in the state, would call Indiana the most hospitable that I have ridden through. My first day here I was stopped by a farmer driver a truck full of grain. He asked where I was from and where I was going and told me about his trip to the east coast. Before he took off he said, "my moms house is the first one on the left after your turn up here. Stop in and get some water and anything else you might need, tell her Kevin said so." By the time I turned the corner, Kevin's Mom Francis, was waving in the street for me with a bowl of fresh peaches all cut up. I ate them and talked with her for a bit before heading on to Fletchers Lake.

When I arrived in Fletchers Lake I was confused as to where the campground listed on the map was. As I looked around a woman came out of her house and asked "you looking for the campground?" I said yes and she replied "you found it." I didn't think much of the place at first. It seemed like a bunch of trailers beside a small lake and I couldn't figure out why there were large white and blacked spotted rabbits EVERYWHERE! The womans name was Patty and she was kind enough to show me around and tell me what the story was even thought the owner of the campground wasn't around. She told me to come over if I wanted or after I got settled in. I took a shower and ate a bit before heading over to find her and her husband Terry out making a fire, feeding what I found out were domestic rabbits, and drinking ice cold Budweiser. We sat around and talked about biking and several random other topics while neighbors stopped over to say hi. Before I left to go set up my tent they offered to let me stay on their couch, I was hesitant at first but then thought to myself, "Fortune favors the bold" and accepted their invitation. When I woke up this next morning, Patty was making coffee. After a cup, she asked if I would like an egg and cheese sandwich. It was delicious! It was great to have good company and conversation to start the day.

Patty and Terry were 2 of the nicest strangers that I have met on the trip, if not the nicest. Most everyone that I have stayed with up until this point, I had some connection to either through friends or family. But these two were genuine strangers who took me in and took care of me for a night. Patty and Terry, thanks for the cold beer, hot food, and the comfy futon.

Eventually I headed out ready to get on the road. 10 miles in I broke and fixed my 3rd spoke. It slowed me down, but shit happens. I stopped in Deedsville shortly after where I met another Terry. He owned the antique shop that I was sitting in front of. We talked for a while about the area and the economy and finally about real estate. Terry said he bought a big old farm house on 40 acres(maybe a 3 bedroom, he pointed it out) for $2000! There is no typo in there, he paid $2000 for a house and 40 acres. That is crazy! The downside is that its in Deedsville and well, there is a reason its only $2000. I spent the rest of the day imagining what I would do with an old farm house. All I came up with was barn parties, ATV's, and digging my own swimming pool/mud pit. The first and only thing that I decided I would actually do with it was raise 2 ducks there, one name Klaus and the other named Esteban. My dog would be named Richie Tenenbaum and would adore his adopted sister Margot. I'm only serious about the ducks.

Tonight I am staying at the award winning Monroeville Community Center, where they have been hosting touring cyclists since 1975. They have a full kitchen, bathroom, shower, and washer and dryer. They offer it up free of charge and have hundreds of people stay each year. Its nice to be able to close a door behind you when you go to bed.

Thanks again to Patty, Terry, Kevin, Francis, and everyone else that has put up with me for a night or two!

-Marcus

A while back, a friend asked me to load up my reading list:
-Life of Pi
-Dress your Family in Denim and Corduroy
-Where the Wild things are
-Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa puffs
-Travels with Charley
-On the road
-Stranger in the forest
-A Clockwork Orange
-Catch 22

I am certain the list is larger, but I am forgetting some of the books.

Unfortunately, there is not as much time to read as one might expect. Not as much as I expected at least. As a result I have only completed the top 4 and am working on the 5th. Most of the time I try to ride as many miles as I can in a day, which usually ends with me rolling into a park just before dark. When I do turn in early I usually try to update the blog or do some reading. Tonight I had the opportunity to do both because I stopped riding at 3pm.

When I arrived at the city park in Iroquois, IL I decided to stop and enjoy the beautiful weather by just relaxing. I read a lot and here I am updating the blog. The town has relatively large park where they installed some showers for bikers a bit back. Mayor Jack Karr gave me the official Iroquois welcome in sweat pants, slippers, button-up shirt, and Chicago Bears winter hat. He reminds me of a character out of Grumpy Old Men. The hospitality of Iroquois is a welcome change from that of the Hillcrest Resort, where I stayed a few nights ago.

Hillcrest was all kinds of confused. Its a resort/country club/camp site/permanent trailer park. The first thing you see is the golf course. Its well maintained and though I'm not Tiger, it looked like a pretty easy course. Next you see what looks like should be the Pro-shop, but that's everything: Club house, bar, restaurant, locker rooms, the camp ranger station, everything in one small building. The best is yet to come though, because when you go into the campground you see a village of trailers (not mobile homes but trailers/5th wheels) on cinder blocks as if you left it parked overnight in the wrong neighborhood. They are all packed together in no recognizable order and some even have porches built onto them. Almost everyone of them is covered in Chicago Cubs paraphernalia and has a custom golf cart (rims, candy paint, sub-woofers...Pimp my Ride: Cart Style) parked in front of it. In addition to being the coolest neighborhood I have seen, I had the coldest shower of my life here.

Reading suggestions are welcome.

Marcus

Arnor and More

Before crossing the Missouri/Illinois border, and on a few occasions in western IL, I rode past some houses that were built into the ground. At first I assumed it was to conserve energy or possibly to avoid the damage from elements, but then I started to think where I had seen houses like this before. All of them were built at the base of a small hill, or maybe the hill was the house, but only one face of the houses were showing and earth covered the top of them. The strangest part was that even the portion of the house that was exposed, only had windows on occasion. It was like something straight out of the Shire. There were no sightings of the Hermits that lived in the earth covered houses, but farms with Shetland ponies were always nearby one of these houses. Wait...Hobbits can't ride full size horses...normal people don't live in the ground and Hobbits aren't normal people...it’s really green around here...I must be in the Shire! The realization that I was in Middle Earth triggered something that made me attempt to imitate Smeagol or Gollum every time I said anything.

Imitating the voices of fictional characters isn't the only thing that I am excelling at as of late, I am also becoming something of a bike touring chef. Riding into a state park a few days ago, I came across a farmers market. I didn't hesitate to stop and ended up leaving with a half dozen eggs and half of a watermelon. You may think those are two of the stupidest items that I could have picked up, especially considering that I don't carry any type of oil to cook with and I don't have a knife to cut the watermelon, and you would be absolutely correct. When I made it to my campsite for the night, I started to wonder what and better yet, how the hell I was going to cook these eggs. After a failed attempt at egg drop soup, I scrambled to find something that I could use to save the 6 eggs that I just threw in the pot. I found some ramen noodles that have been sitting in my bag for a long time and decided that would be my best bet. Without any plan of action or idea of what I was doing, I filled my pot up with a little more water and boiled up my MSG and egg covered noodles. This was one of the best meals that I have made on my own, on this trip! It was extremely filling and had a tolerable flavor from the ramen packets, what more could I ask for. The spaghetti and tuna that I make almost nightly has improved as well. Actually, I just bit the bullet and bought a bottle of sauce that had seasoning mixed in as opposed to the cans of straight up tomato sauce. I suppose I can’t really take credit for that one.

After trying to come up with other delicious meals that I could write about, I realize that my cooking has not really improved at all…I just made a lucky save by throwing ramen noodles in a thick egg broth.

Though I can’t cook it, Chinese food is one of my favorite things to eat. Aledo, IL is home to the annual Rhubarb Fest and also my new favorite Chinese food restaurant. Hong Kong Restaurant in Aledo had the best Chinese food that I have eaten since a place in Denver, The Jade Café, closed 2 years ago. When I arrived in Aledo I asked around for restaurant recommendations and everyone said “that Chinese place.” Nobody knew the name, but they all knew where to find it, “that Chinese place is good!”

No more about my eating habits for awhile. I am currently at my home in Naperville, IL. My Dad came and picked me up when I was nearby. I have spent my day off relaxing, tuning and cleaning my bike, and I even picked up a new set of tires. If anyone ever considers doing a bike tour, I would recommend using Schwalbe Marathon Plus tires. I rode 3400 miles and only had 1 flat tire as a result of a puncture. From hear I have about 1500 miles left to ride to Bar Harbor, ME and even less to Portland, ME (my final destination).

Illinois: Land of the Red Rider

Today I rode my bike over the Mississippi River, or as I've heard it called around here, the Miss'ippi River and into Quincy, IL. It has been a rough couple days getting here though. After cleaning off my bike in St. Louis, it was covered in limestone dust from the Katy trail after only 5 miles. My bike is finally starting to show the wear and tear from the trip and so am I. One of my panniers lost a screw and broke loose while I was riding yesterday, the pedals and bottom bracket sound sick, and the seat post is slipping. Pains for me are minimal, but I do have a bit of pain in the front of my right knee. I am going to blame this on the slipping seat post causing a poor riding posture, but lets hope it goes away soon. While adjusting and tightening the seat post this morning, I managed to break the bolt that hold it in place...AWESOME! I rode a few miles out of town to a hardware store with my seat spinning behind me. Once I finally rode over the river, I was completely relieved and all was well.

Missouri wasn't terrible, but it was not my favorite state. The last 30 miles that I rode in the state were easily the worst. The knee pain may have contributed, but the hills/bluffs along the Mississippi are terrible. I might even go as far as to say they were worse than parts of the Rockies. The Rockies have passes with 1000-3000ft. climbs...but they are over 5 to 30 miles Missouri did not have any concern for cars, bikes, or anything else that might find its way onto a hill, and as a result has some very steep grades. There were multiple climbs where my front wheel came off of the ground! This has been a painful stretch of road.

The only person/touring cyclist that I have seen in the past couple of days was a British guy. He is riding from Boston to Los Angeles and has been on the road for almost 2 months. I am not sure when he was planning to finish or how many miles he has done so far, but that seems like a long time to have only made it to the Mississippi. I suppose I have no room to speak though, as I have been on the road for over 2 months and still have 1700 miles to go, I finally calculated it. Tomorrow I will ride through Iowa and begin my ride along the Northern Tier trail, the final 1600 miles of the trip. I am excited because for the first time, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The next few weeks are going to be tougher with less sunlight, but it is starting to cool down which makes a BIG difference, especially at night. The past couple of nights I haven't been sweating in my sleep.

Leaving St. Louis, I had to stop at a Verizon and have them replace my phone. The charging port and the select button were both broken. As a result, I have to apologize to anyone who may have tried to call or text me in the past week or so. If you have not received a reply, it is because I didn't receive whatever you may have sent me. If you were expecting a call from me and haven't received one, it is because I no longer have any contacts in my phone...I love my Verizon Crackberry.

My 20 minutes at the public library are up, thanks for reading and thanks for the support! More to come as soon as I get into digital service.

-Marcus

Peter Fox is my doppelganger

The rest of my time in Kansas was painful and hilarious. Shortly after the last time that I updated my blog I stopped for the night at the Council Grove City Lake. Even though they didn't have showers, I was elated to be near a body of water deep enough to swim in. I was camping near the boat ramp and marina and did not see anyone swimming at all. I went down by the marina and asked Bob, the retired army who worked 5 days a week at the marina to escape his wife, if there was a specific spot or maybe a beach designated for swimming. He gave the most sarcastic response he could think of, "yeah, uh, well I think they designated the water for swimming in". Thanks Bob. After swimming for a while I decided to go talk with Bob, who was drinking a can of Busch lite and watching teenage girls get in and out of boats on the dock or "taking in the views" as he described it. Bob was probably about 65-70 years old and looked like he could be the grandfather of Cousin Eddie from the movie Vacation. He was wearing overalls with no shirt, a cowboy hat, nicely shined black shoes, and had the creepiest mustache I have ever seen. To be honest I wasn't sure if it was actually a mustache or just a row of wiry white hairs that he had missed while shaving his top lip. He had shaved all of the hair on his face except for a line of hairs on the edge of his top lip, which were long enough to curl down into his mouth. When he wasn't sipping Busch lite he was licking these hairs. The conversation was strange and seemed to always come back to the idea that, "women didn't look like that (the girls getting on and off the boats) when I was your age". At one point Bob offered me a beer saying, "I have Bud and Busch lite". I was feeling dehydrated and declined his offer. "You know why I like Busch?" I prepared myself for a raunchy joke. "I frequently misplace things and when I find my beer a day or two later, I can actually drink it if its Busch." I chuckled a bit and upon realizing that he was serious didn't know what to say. I responded with "well I usually try to finish my beers in a day." To which he replied, "You know, that's not always possible the way I lose things and I am sure not going to let a good beer go to waste." Speaking with Bob was an experience I will not soon forget.

My ride to Council Grove was very windy, but the night I spent there was hands down the windiest I have been in. On multiple occasions the wind was hitting the tent so hard that it tore the tent stakes right out of the ground, practically collapsing it on me. The first time it happened I woke up flustered and started packing my things up half asleep. When I realized what I was doing and what time it was, everything except for the tent was on the bike ready to go. At this point I just left the stuff packed and slept on the floor of the tent without anything under me. Needless to say, it was not a great night sleep.

The ride the next day was disheartening because I only made it 60 miles but rode for nearly 7 hours. It was a struggle to find the motivation to keep riding at under 10 mph. The only thing that kept me going was that the more miles I rode, the closer I would be to the Katy Trail and a much needed change in scenery. The next night I was delighted to stop at another spot with a lake and a place to shower. I spent most of my night enjoying both of these and even traded the time I would have spent preparing dinner for a little extra time swimming. My mother will cringe after reading this next part, but from that night on I found myself buying and eating more canned foods straight from the can. It tastes the same and it saves you the hassle of cooking and cleaning. Beans, Chef Boyardee, canned fruit, chili, and the worst, which I'm slightly embarrassed to say, was a can of Campbell's condensed beef soup straight from the can. Not surprisingly, condensed soup is much better with water and heat. After opening my bag in the dark one night, I found the can of soup right on top. I held it in my hand hoping to find something that didn't require cooking, but was disappointed when the only other thing I had was spaghetti. Initially, I dismissed the idea without much consideration. But after getting out my stove and searching for a place to set it up, the vegetable and beef filled gelatin started to sound better and better. Finally, after opening it and sampling the soup, I choked down the first spoonful. I convinced myself that it wasn't as bad as it was, but looking back on it, it was awful.

A couple notes about Kansas before I move on to Missouri. I did not see a single sunflower in the sunflower state. Kansas is the windiest state I have ever been to. I picked up a state road map, the free one provided by the Kansas Department of Transportation, and on the front of it, it said, "Kansas...as big as you think." This is false. Kansas is bigger than anyone ever thought. I don't even think that most residents of Kansas realize how big the place is. Everything is bigger in Texas, but Kansas isn't as confident as Texas, so they're going to let you decide how big you think Kansas is. If you drive highways 96 and 56 I think you would agree with me that Kansas is huge. In every state except for Missouri, people driving cars will occasionally wave to me. In Oregon, most people throw up a peace sign. Idaho, Wyoming and Colorado folk generally give a full on wave. Kansas seems to be the exception though. Almost every car I passed in Kansas acknowledged me in some way, but the most common was to point at you with a index finger. The first time I saw this I wasn't sure if the driver was doing this as a threat, as if to say, "Watch yourself...I'm gonna get you sucka!" or if he was simply saying, "you're the man now dawg!" but either way I was confused. Having finished the state and being pointed at a couple hundred times, I think its just a friend hello.

Missouri lays claim to the worst roads that I have ridden to date and the possibly the worst drivers I have ever seen. Upon arriving in the show me state, I took a very long detour as a result of road construction. I now know to avoid roads identified with a letter and to never, under any circumstances, ride roads that are titled with two letters. State route Y in Missouri is in desperate need of a fresh layer of asphalt and lines on the road. State route YY should have the remaining asphalt ground up and turned into a gravel or dirt road. While riding YY I felt like I was playing connect the dots, my bike being the pen and the pot holes at the dots. Changing subjects, I am pretty convinced that the title "show me state" is referring to firearms because I have seen more gun racks in cars here then anywhere in the country. The best one was in a Buick. Drivers in Missouri don't know how to react when they see me riding. Most slow down to my speed and wait for about a minute before passing me. Others have waited for me to stop or turn off, and the best was a couple that honked while cruising behind me at 15 mph and then waved as if to tell me to move off of the road so that they could pass. After dealing with this for a couple hundred miles, I was delighted to get off of the roads and onto the longest "Rails to Trails" path in the country.

The Katy Trail is a 240 mile crushed limestone bike path that runs almost the entire way across Missouri. Formerly the Missouri, Kansas, Texas Railway, the old tracks have been removed and the route is open to hikers and bikers looking to enjoy the heat, humidity, and wide varieties of bugs found along the Missouri River. Getting onto the path was a wonderful change of pace. There is no traffic, there are stops with bathrooms and water every 10-20 miles, and best of all there is tree cover. My first day on the Katy Trail was a crazy day. I arrived at the trail head in Clinton, MO to find 2 guys from the University of Oklahoma. Nick, a 25 year old recently graduated, and Gabe, a 28 year old with another year to go who looked like he was a frequent participant in his local SCA chapter. (www.SCA.org) Easily the best pony tail I have seen on a man or woman in years! In addition to these 2 was a Father with his son and daughter from Texas. They were on a family vacation touring the Katy Trail . (Great family vacation...or GREATEST family vacation!) It seemed that he was taking a lot of heat for the idea. The family took off shortly before me and the other guys did. After talking with them and riding for a bit I thought for sure I would have to ditch them by the end of the day if I wanted to make it anywhere, but I was enjoying the company and conversation so I stuck around. Maybe 5 miles into the ride, we came across the family that we had me earlier and they were having trouble with their tandem bike. We figured out what was going on and helped out with some tools. Once everything was straightened out, we introduced ourselves. When the father said his name was Charlie Brown I laughed thinking that he was kidding around. "Really?" We said. "Yeah really. Well Charles Brown, but I go by Charlie." He spells it with an "-ey" at the end, but I am going to spell it like the character for dramatic effect...Sorry Charley. A few things ran through my head. First, that I just helped fix the bike of one of the most well know and unlucky characters of all time. Second, I thought it was awesome that Charlie fully embraced his name and was even wearing a yellow shirt. Finally, I may have just met the guy with the worst middle school experience of all time.

All of us continued on the trail and eventually stopped at some local cafe where Charlie Brown bought us lunch. That's right, Charley Brown bought me lunch. As I sat eating with all of these people I said to the other 2 guys, "they'll never believe us." But I have proof. If you look at the names of the people following this blog, you with see Charley Brown that the most recognizable Peanut of all time is following along. Thanks again for lunch Charley!

We left lunch just after a woman stopped to inform us that there was a horrendous storm coming our way with wind gust between 50-80 mph. Not even 20 miles down the road, we ran into another guy. Justin was having trouble with his tires, 3 flats in one day. Thinking how well the last encounter I had was, I decided to stop and help the guy out. We patched his tire, only to have the patch give out before he had his bike loaded back up. Reluctantly, I gave him my last spare innertube knowing that there was a bad storm on the way and a bike shop in the next town. We arrived in Sedalia, MO just as the storm started to hit. Hungry and unsure where the bike shop was, we stopped in at a Chinese Buffet to wait out the storm. As we were leaving I noticed that my front tire was looking low and decided to pump it up before leaving for the bike shop. As I put the pump on the valve the whole top portion broke off letting out all of the air in the tube. This was bound to happen and has reinforced the idea that you never give away your last innertube...ever! Still unsure where and how far the bike shop was, I looked it up and gave a call. Closed. Of course they were closed. Why wouldn't they be? I was forced to walk to and camp out at the Missouri State Fairgrounds until the bike shop opened. I was later informed by my Dad that Sedalia, specifically the MSF was home to a huge music fest even bigger than Woodstock. There was not a trace of towns history anywhere to be found, but after a couple of Google searches I found that the Ozark Music Festival of 1974 was one of the largest music festivals of all time. (http://rodsievers.googlepages.com/ozarkmusicfestival) It drew over 250,000 people to the place I camped and in a Senate investigation was recognized as a weekend of "sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll." It was cool to read the history of the place that I was camped at. I had my tent right beside the Sheep Pavilion, which I later read was the location of a "sex orgy, with hundreds spectators." This was the first time that I had ever heard of the OMF and proceeded to ask every person that I had a conversation with on the Katy trail, especially Missouri residents, if they had heard of the Festival. Not a single person knew anything. Nobody had even heard about it. I was shocked, but still think its awesome that I was able to stay there.

The next morning I arrived at Cecil's Cyclery where I picked up some tubes and talked with the old guy that owned the place for a little while. He specialized in old Chicago made Schwinn bicycles and even had a couple in their original boxes. I think I will return and buy a bike from Cecil at some point in the near future. I left Sedalia and continued down the Katy trail happy to have the spare parts I needed and a new found interest in the Ozark Music Festival. If nothing else, it gave me something new to think and read about when I wasn't on the bike.

The rest of the Katy trail was kind of rough, literally. The further along the Katy trail I rode, the more I found large pot holes or places where rain water washed out large 1-2 foot sections of limestone. The actual trail was getting difficult to ride without a mountain bike. One of the last days that I was riding it, I hit a huge wash out and broke a spoke for the second time this trip. I was about 10 miles from the nearest town and it was getting dark. I rode in the pitch black tunnel of trees with nothing but a small headlamp to guide me. I hit several more bumps and arrived at a campsite and began setting up my tent when my headlamp went out. I was angry, frustrated and trying to stay positive when the headlamp went out and I lost it. I let out a rant that was more colorful than the crowd of people that showed up in Sedalia in 1974 and went to bed shortly after finishing my condensed soup.

The next day I woke up ready to fix my spoke to find I no longer had the tool I needed to do so. I rode the 10 miles into Herman, MO where I found a bike shop and had the spoke replaced. I spent a few more hours in Herman touring the many wineries in the city. After close to a bottle worth of sampling, I was picked up by my good friend Kevin whom I haven't seen in a long time. I was elated to see him! Kevin picked me up and drove me back to St. Louis where I was planning on hanging out for the weekend. On the phone Kevin asked me, "if I drive you, doesn't that go against the ethos of the trip?" I agreed that it did, but I was willing to make exceptions reflecting on the time I had trying to get out of Denver and the condition the Katy trail was in as of late.

St. Louis has been a blast! My stay has included a whole lot of delicious and fattening foods, admiring architecture, and a lot of baseball. I hate the Cardinals even more after spending time here. I have been alternating time at Kevin's apartment in the city and my friend Tim's parents house in the suburbs. A new slogan, motto, mantra, or rule to live by has been adopted in my time spent here in St. Louis. To preface the tag line, I must tell a story. A few nights ago, I was at the house of one of Tim's high school friends. After a few beers we decided to climb onto the roof. We spent a decent amount of time up there telling stories and hanging out until we got bored and decided to go back inside. As we stood up and got ready to climb down, Tim's friend Justin stops, looks at us and says, "Fortune favors the bold," and proceeds to leap off of the roof...in flip flops! Sure that he was going to have a few broken bones from the way he landed, Tim says to me "this is going to be an awesome ride to the hospital." We asked Justin if he had broken his ankles to which he responded "no but I did knock the wind out of myself pretty good." Fortune favors the bold defined the rest of the night and madness ensued. This is a dangerous motto, but I feel it is fitting for my trip and have decided to adopt it as the official slogan.

-Marcus