A Coin Operated Bed, Apple-achia, and The Gangs of Kentucky

Day: 14 (Buckhorn, KY to Berea, KY)
Average Speed: 10.1 MPH
Miles Cycled Today: 69.2
Miles Cycled Total: 770

Dogs Encountered Today*: 11 (*This refers to anytime I need to dismount or speed up due to a dog or a group of dogs. And if you think you can't bike 20 MPH uphill with 40 lbs. of gear when Cujo is chasing you, you're wrong.)
Mood: Just Ducky in Kentucky

Neglected Bikes in Appalachia

I made it to Berea, Kentucky!

This may have little or no meaning to you, but it's exciting for me because Berea is known as "The Gateway to the Appalachians." 

And I am heading out of the gate. 

Today's Terrain to Berea

According to my maps and other blogs that I've read, the most physically demanding part of this trip is now in my rearview. 

A quick count on my terrain map shows that I crossed about 25 different peaks over the past 200 miles or so, and after three more today, I noticed the landscape (as well as the culture) beginning to change again. Mountains started to become hills. Trailers turned into houses. Businesses were open. 

Back to What I Know

And good ol' Corporate America greeted me with open arms. Ugh. 

Although I will not miss the endless climbing and the destitution of Appalachia, that region does have a grotesquely charming character to it. It's like leaving a tragic fairy tale. 

Today's ride in comparison was just... meh. Fine. Lots of rolling hills now. 

Rumble Strip on White Line

The roads of Kentucky continue to suck. I don't know whose bright idea it was to make a rumble strip on the white line of every road, but I'd like to meet that person and force him to sit on one of those coin-operated vibrating beds from the Seventies for a whole day while I pump in quarter after quarter and challenge him to a few games of Jenga. 

Maybe someone out there has a fetish for riding on a rumble strip, but it ain't me. 

All my fetishes are normal. 

"It's 'fer the drunks," a cashier said to me when I was complaining about it a few days back. "It helps 'em figure out where the road is." I thought she was saying this jocularly. She wasn't. How comforting. 

Crappy Picture of my Shattered iPhone

The potholes and sudden disappearances of shoulders is a bit off-putting as well. On descent #2 today, I was cruisin' along at a good clip when I hit a crack in the pavement. The sudden jostle sent my iPhone flying to the middle of the road from its console. 

And even though I hadn't seen a car all day, one was now conveniently approaching. I gave what I thought was the international symbol for "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE STOP!" 

But the driver, no doubt well versed in American Sign Language, translated this into "Please slow down a bit and look for the iPhone in the road so you can aim for it with both your front and rear passenger side tires."

Crunch! ......  Crunch! ...... 

I slapped my forehead and ran to give my device mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. The driver gave me a "Thank You" wave and sped up. 

Still trying to figure that one out.

I have a new respect for Apple though. The damn thing still works. And now it looks like one of those cool phones that hipsters in Brooklyn dig so much. 

The First Cut's the Deepest

Also, although I told myself to stop mentioning the dogs on the blog, I can't. They make up quite an exciting portion of the day. 


I don't get it. They're fine around humans. They're fine around bicycles. But put a human on a bicycle and a switch flips. Age, breed, big, small, it doesn't matter. They all go apeshit. 

While there were fewer encounters than yesterday, today's were much scarier. In one instance, two mongrels tag-teamed and approached rather suddenly and quietly from both sides. I hopped off the bike so quick that I cut myself on my gear shifter. I wish I could say this was a dog bite so I'd have some sort of street cred, but no. It's me vs. me. 


But this next encounter is the real winner of the day:

At first it was just a few of 'em. I dismounted and stayed still (they always stop if you stop), and they barked from across the busy road. Every time I moved they ran toward me. 

And then more joined in. 

And more. 

Since I was being held hostage and couldn't advance, I took some video. 

Please... Watch this. And tell me this isn't gang violence. Note 0:22-0:30 of the video and see what happens when I move.

A passerby intentionally stopped her car and created a short line of traffic to block the dogs' vision so I could go on. It worked much better than the stale dog treats I'm packing. 

This is not going to change with the landscape. These dogs know where the state line is. They'll be following me all the way to the Ohio River.

Riley and Mabel Bingham

I didn't meet a lot of people today, but there was a charming elderly man, Riley Bingham, who beckoned to me when I reached a top of a hill by his house. "Why don't you come up here in the shade and take a rest for a while- gimme some company!" 

Don't ask me twice. 

His wife, Mabel, came and joined us as well. 

This was a pleasant 20 minute break as they offered the history of their town and of their house. 

Mabel also told me of a female cyclist who had passed two days ago and was badly attacked by one of the neighbor's dogs. She went to pepper spray it but sprayed herself in the eyes by accident. 

"It wasn't good," she said, as if recounting yesterday's weather. 

She filled up my water bottle before I left and said my two favorite words: "Be safe."

I will Mabel. 

Just keep yer dogs on a leash and yer drunks between the rumble strips.

And I'll be just fine. 

P.S.

This chicken has nothing but regret after crossing the road.

I'm sure there's a better caption out there. Feel free to offer one.