The Key of A Double Flat, the Perfect Hotel, and a Can of Spinach

Day: 21 (Carbondale, IL to Chester, IL)

Average Speed: 11 MPH

Miles Cycled Today: 56

Miles Cycled Total: 1246

Mood: Strangely Satisfied

Cover of My Roommate's Journal

I'm typing this in a bar that hosts cyclists for free in a bunkhouse.

Bunkhouse for Cyclists

That in and of itself is strange (and wonderful), but the commercial that just appeared on their television is stranger... and even quite maddening. This has to be one of the dumbest products I have ever seen.

People Buy This

If you consider yourself a good parent, and you buy this for your kids... you are a shitty parent. 


"Merry Christmas kids! Here's a Swerve-Ball! And a visit from the Tooth Fairy!"



Anyway... nothin' to see here. Just pokin' along. Poke, poke, pokin' along. 

A colleague of mine posted a cartoon on my Facebook wall recently. The accuracy of this depiction is striking, and I've thought of it every day since. 

While I am still on track mileage-wise to reach my destination in time, something always happens- ALWAYS- that puts a kink in the damn hose. 

Flat #1

Today it was two flat tires. Back to back. In 95 degree heat. With humidity. And no water (I drank all of it changing the first flat). A couple of flat tires might not sound like a big deal, but consider that it takes 20-30 minutes to fix (take all the gear off the bike, unpack equipment, remember that you are an amateur, question your ability to do anything correctly that involves common sense, etc.). 

Flat #2

So that's an extra unplanned hour away from civilization. That's 10-15 miles that you didn't go during an hour in the blazing sun. And when you're in a stretch (like I was) where there are no places to stop and refill your bottles, it's a tad disconcerting. 

If you're thinking like I'm thinking, then you're thinking that the second flat (both were the same tire) was my fault and my incompetence in installing it is what made it happen just seven miles from where it was changed. 

I am shocked and delighted to report that it was a total coincidence. The second flat was a pinhole leak that could not have come from screwing up an installation (and yes, I examined and cleaned the inside of the tire before installing the tube to ensure there was no debris... so there). I'm sticking to that. Not my fault. For real.

Still, I managed only 56 miles or so from my somewhat unexpected stay in Carbondale, IL to my somewhat unexpected stay in Chester, IL. I should be part way through Missouri by now, but I'm not. Here's the route:

Today's Route

There was an alternate route suggested by the map. From what I heard, it was more scenic, more representative of southern Illinois, more indicative of the culture that... 

Okay, it looked easier.

it's the low pink line where I wrote "Easy Way."

Take That, Kevin!

After the tire fiasco, I eventually limped in to a bar/grill called "Bottoms Up" to get some A/C and a Diet Coke. The name alone brought back memories of good food (there's an excellent restaurant where I'm from with the same name). And even though the cuisine of southern Illinois- or anywhere really- will never compare to the options available to us in the Hudson Valley, the clientele and staff were a blast. 

A full lunch and two Diet Cokes for me, plus the round of alcoholic beverages I bought for four folks sitting at the bar who were extremely fun to talk with... 19 bucks. 

The food might not compare- but the prices do. 

Brad, one of those four, tried to buy me a souvenir t-shirt, but they only had Double XL... and I'm a bit skinnier these days. 


I made it to Chester, IL without a hitch after that. 

Chester is the home of Popeye. 

The sailor man. 

They make no secret of it.

 Popeye is everywhere. Statues scattered throughout town (even in a Wal-Mart parking lot!), murals, cutouts to put your head in, a museum.... Popeye is everywhere. 

I asked a pedestrian named Dwight- the first person I saw- what was up with the Popeye stuff. "The creator of Popeye lived here!" he said, and told me all about

the town... nice guy.  

Funny thing is, of the four Chester residents I asked about Popeye, everyone said the same thing: "The creator of Popeye lived here!" But when I asked who that was... nobody knew. 

I bet elementary schoolteachers know though. They must assign research project after research project about this guy. I mean, there's a friggin' Popeye statue on the school lawn. 

The students, I assume, don't give a shit. 

First Peek at the Mississippi River

Although the climb to Chester looked steep on the map, I made it without a problem. In fact, I was full of energy. I could've done 50 more miles. Uphill. 

Yes! I Bought More Tubes! And Sunblock!

But the sun was setting. 





And there's a Wal-Mart here that sells spare tubes.

Fellow Cyclists (AKA Roommates)

And there's a bar that hosts cyclists for free. 












And these are the wonderful obstacles that make it hard to press on when there's no other logical place to stay for the night.

I'm gonna eat some spinach, and hit those Ozarks tomorrow. 

P.S.

It was a fun, typical bar/restaurant... 

                 ...but you know your town's small when you call this a "Tourist Activity."