Mile 1000, a Game of Zelda, and a Burning Desire (to sleep)

Day: 17 (Sonora, KY to Utica, KY)

Average Speed: 10.3 MPH

Miles Cycled Today: 89.3

Miles Cycled Total: 1020

Dogs Encountered Today: 1

Mood: Completely Spent

A Milestone for the Green Saddle

You know how when you drive at night, your windshield gets all splattered with bugs?

The View at Mile 1000

I don't have a windshield. I ate 'em. 

Goggles would've helped, but I just have sunglasses... and only Corey Hart can pull off that stunt. 

I was determined to get to mile 1000 today, but I hit it (rather unceremoniously) at sunset, which meant a two hour ride in the dark to the next town. Don't worry- I've got an obnoxiously bright flashlight attached to my handlebars and an adorable little red blinky taillight. Chicks dig it. If I were riding a tandem bicycle... that back seat would never be empty. Just sayin'.

See? I'm not lying!

It was actually refreshing to ride at night after today's heat.

It was hot.

Like Africa hot. 

The pastor of the church in Sonora where I camped yesterday- John Vaught- told me it was going to reach a heat index of 102. 

He had pretty much woken me up this morning by the way. He was curious as to why I was there, but very welcoming. He's young and exuberant and led me in a prayer where he asked God to keep me safe and provide me with warmth and hospitality from others. 

Then he asked what church I go to in New York. I wasn't prepared for the question. "Ummm... well I don't belong to any one church you see... because... I... play... piano... for churches... lots of churches... when they... ask." We both just nodded at one other awkwardly, each of us trying to comprehend what I'd just said.

It's very difficult to face someone so genuinely devout and hospitable and confess you're not religious after just waking up to a morning prayer. 

The Brookside Cafe

The Brookside Cafe was next door and advertised breakfast. It has a "permanently closed" look about it, but the open sign was indeed lit. The ten or so regulars that were gathered stopped and stared when I walked in, and for a second, I swear I heard that music that plays in old fashioned Westerns when the tumbleweed blows just before a gunfight. 

The Clientele at the Brookside Cafe

But they were super friendly and asked the Usual Questions.





An elderly gentleman (the one in the blue shirt) finished his breakfast and gave me a pat on the back as he left. He'd barely spoken two words to me while he was there, but when the waitress brought my check over, the word PAID was scrawled across it. 

He had bought my meal. I don't know his name and didn't get the opportunity to thank him.

"That's just the way people are around here," the waitress said with a shrug and a smile.

She then insisted on adding ice to the water bottles that Pastor Vaught had filled.

"It's gonna be the hottest day of the year today," another man said as I prepared to leave, "Be safe."

He was right. 

I was panting by mile 10. 

By mile 20, my water was all but gone.

And at mile 25 (see route), I had to walk my bike up a brutally steep hill- and even that was hard. 

Today's Route

It was barely past noon and I was fried, mentally and physically. I couldn't tell if I was hungry, thirsty, or nauseous. The only coherent thought I had is How am I going to handle Utah and Nevada? 

I still don't have the answer for that.

If this were a game of Zelda, I was down to my last life heart. Only cold water and some respite from the heat was going to give me the needed boost. My map noted I was near a convenience store, but I couldn't find it. Instead I called out to a man walking toward his house and asked if I could fill my bottles. 

He, his wife, and his grandson welcomed me in while they prepared freshly shucked corn. I chugged four glasses of ice water and gained at least six hearts back, courtesy of the Roberson family.

"It's just the way people are around here..."

Turns out the convenience store I was looking for was less than half a mile away. 

I prefer the Robersons anyway.  

Beautiful Kentucky

I continued taking breaks every five miles or so. The terrain was much more difficult than Joop had led me to believe two days ago (and he's from Holland! Where everything is flat!). 

I was relieved to hear from some eastbound cyclists that they too were taking breaks with the same frequency, and one told me that many had called it quits for the day.

Not me. I was going to make it to Utica no matter what. 

And I did. 

Tim Jones- Volunteer at Utica Firehouse

I'm currently holed up at a volunteer fire house (!) that offers free overnight stays for cyclists. They leave their door unlocked and have better amenities than any hotel I've stayed in. Although I didn't arrive until 9:30 PM (it was actually 10:30 for me... I crossed a time zone), Tim Jones, who lives across the street, came to greet me. He gave me free reign to use anything: the kitchen, the shower, the laundry... I'm all alone and I have the run of the place. 

Although there's no pole to slide down, I bet I could find a spare key to a fire truck if I looked hard enough. It's probably in the visor. 

My Digs for Tonight

I silently wondered what I would do if there were a fire in Utica tonight and this place suddenly came alive.

But then I realized I'm too tired to wake up to any siren.

And I can take the heat. 

P.S.

Animals on foot?!?