Day: 24 (Summersville, MO to Marshfield, MO)
Average Speed: 10.1 MPH
Miles Cycled Today: 88.5
Miles Cycled Total: 1451
Mood: Indifferent
My Socks
But never once have I said "Sorry I'm late... you see there was somebody riding a bicycle on the shoulder of the road and golly! Had to press on the brake just a tad and exercise the tiniest bit of caution! So that's why I'm late..."
As I was heading out of Summersville this morning, freshly unshowered, I was thinking about how I haven't yet had many issues with vehicles. I could only remember three times where a car honked in the past 1400 miles. That's not bad out of the thousands that have zipped by!
Make it four.
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| From Google Images... Not the Guy |
Barely outside of town, I was riding as far right as possible when a pickup truck tailed me, blared its horn, then swerved around. He must've known where I was from too, because he offered the good ol' New York salute!
I waved. Besides ignoring it, there's nothing else I can do. It's not worth flipping the bird back or showing frustration. He's in a car. I'm on a bike. He wins. Good for him. It's kind of like being in a boxing match with a three-year-old- you'll get the K.O., but are you really going to display that championship belt in your trophy case?
I assume this guy was angry because I was "in his way" and a car was coming the other direction, causing him to decelerate from his 85 MPH pace and wait a nanosecond or two for the car to pass so he could get around me. That's what I assume. For all I know, he could've come home from work early last night and seen a man in a bright orange shirt sneaking out his wife's bedroom window and figured it was me. It wasn't, Pickup Man. I was camping in the town park. Mistaken identity.
Before leaving Bottoms Up Bar back in Illinois, a customer, Brad, ended our conversation by saying "After talking with you, I think I'm not gonna get so pissed off at bikers anymore when I'm driving!"
If you'd like to join Brad in the pledge to be a more empathetic driver to cyclists who are following the rules of the road, here are a few tips:
1) Don't Honk. Ever. It's alarming and unexpected. Every time a car has honked, my body and bike has reacted, making the chance of an accident far more likely. Some people like to honk their horns thinking they are being polite in warning a cyclist that car is approaching. This is dumb. I already know you're there and/or I don't care. You don't warn a car every time you're behind one, do you? Hello honks aren't all that great either. You have to know the strength of your own toot before you can pull this off. And as we all know, most people do not know the strength of their toots (heh heh). Just wave. I always see those.
2) Use the Other Lane to Pass (if at all possible). You'd be surprised to know how many people do not budge from their lane when the other side of the road is completely open. When the lane isn't open, this might involve waiting and slowing down, but I promise you'll get to your destination at the same time. Instead take the time to enjoy being stuck behind the cyclist for a few moments. Make fun of his diaper shorts and his stupid LED blinky taillight. If I know that I'm holding up traffic or sight for cars is limited, I almost always just dismount and pull over. I realize the Lance Armstrongs of the world love riding side-by-side and take pride in using the entire lane, and I hate that too. As much as it sucks, it's still their right to do it.
3) Make a New Friend. Yesterday, in the tremendous heat, I pulled over in the shade on the side of the road and laid in the grass to cool off. A car passed and slowed down quite a bit before stopping in a few hundred feet. It waited a few moments, then sped off. The conversation probably went something like this:
DRIVER: Hey Maude, maybe we should turn around and check on that guy- offer him one of these 96 ice cold bottles of water that we just picked up from Sam's Club.
PASSENGER: Are you crazy, Hank? Do you know how dangerous people are out there in this world? Don't you watch CNN and see what America is really like? I bet he's luring us into a trap. He's gonna take all our money and our eight tubs of JIF peanut butter that we just bought. Absolutely not. Too many nut jobs in our society.
DRIVER: That seems like an awful lot of planning for that guy to go through in order to pull off that kind of heist, Maude. Really, I bet his water is boiling hot and he could probably use-
PASSENGER: Hank, if you don't step on this gas pedal right this instant, I am not letting you watch WWE Smackdown for an entire week and you're going to binge watch all six seasons of "Sex and the City" with me.
(DRIVER speeds up)
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| My Trusty Weapon |
It's true, I do carry a knife. A Leatherman... a Mini-Leatherman I should say. But no worries, I've seen more intimidating toothpicks. A TSA agent would let that thing slip by.
A cyclist with baggage is not harmful. Guaranteed. And he/she is most likely worth talking with. Give it a shot!
If a rule abiding cyclist ever fills you with intense angst and anxiety, the problem is you. Not the cyclist. Seek therapy.
Besides, sometimes I do the speed limit! Check out this vid of coasting in the Ozarks. Note that due to a lack of perspective and the camera angle, it's pretty much impossible to determine the steepness of the hills. I broke 50 MPH on both of these descents sans pedaling.
But I digress.
Here's today's route:
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| Today's Route |
This is one of those days that's going to go down as "forgettable." It was fine in every aspect. Hills. Cows. More hills. More cows. I was just getting the job done today.
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| Starting to Look Like Kansas... |
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| Hay |
The highlight of my day had to be babysitting. Yes, babysitting.
I was in the sleepy town of Bendavis and stopped at a convenience store- the only one for 25 miles in either direction, so pretty much every cyclist stops here. The store is run by super-polite woman named Rebecca. She needed to step out for a moment to help pitch hay (no lie... and she's pregnant... on second thought maybe I should've offered to do this for her... whoops) and left me with her three delightful small children. She didn't expressly ask me to babysit while she was gone, but I did.
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| James |
James played a game called Ram-The-Tricycle-Against-The-Shin-Of-The-Sweaty-Man. Allanah demanded I chase her around the store and bop her on the head with my water bottle, and AJ- the maturest of us all- asked intelligent questions about bicycle touring.
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| Allanah and AJ |
It was a lot of fun- like being around my nephews and nieces only without the injuries and emergency room trips. I stayed and played for about twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes was long enough for me to sign the guest book, and I am back to being hot on the tail of Jamie Norton. I know all about this guy... as well as the new guy, Ryan, who recently joined the trail from a different direction. According to a guy at an ice cream stand, Ryan is only an hour ahead of me. He probably wakes up earlier.
Over 1400 miles, and I have yet to catch up to someone headed west (there's not so many of us... it's the stupid way to go due to wind, but why on earth would I want to make the east coast a final destination?).
When I find one of these guys, I think I'm going sneak up on him with one of those loud air horns that you get from Party City.
That'd be hilarious.
P.S.
Least Used Vending Machine Ever in a Trucker Bathroom
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