The Awkward Pose

September 6, 2016 – Sunny, 95 degrees

Miles Today: 68

Miles to Date: 15,795

States to Date: 43

Let the corn begin! I am so fascinated by these top-heavy plants standing tall on their spiky toes, lined in such perfect rows. Every five minutes I want to stop and take yet another photo of how they flow in the breeze. Enough already – each photo looks pretty much like the last one. But in my eye they appear as an ever-changing sea. Good thing I enjoy them so much – I’ll have plenty of corn for companionship over the next few weeks.

My warmshowers host Bill rode me out of Santa Claus and past Lincoln’s Boyhood home, then let me loose to pedal along Indiana 62 to Evansville, where I took a writing break before pedaling on to New Harmony. Although the day was hot, I made a good breeze and the light filtering through the trees was sublime.

I first visited New Harmony, the Rappist / Robert Owen nineteenth century Utopian community, on my cycling tour in 2011. It is the first place I am returning to on this trip as well. In part, because the town is so lovely, but mostly because in the interim I became Internet chums with Docey Lewis. Docey’s an artist and philanthropist whose work in developing countries, most recently Nepal, dovetails with things I did in Haiti. Her invitation to visit New Harmony was a highlight of my trip.

Docey arranged for me to stay in ‘The Poet’s House,’ one of the nineteenth century post and beam cottages now used as guest accommodations. She invited more than a dozen locals to her home to share food and talk about tomorrow, a subject that people drawn to live in a rural Utopian community expound upon with gusto.

September 5, 2016 – Sunny, 90 degrees

Miles Today: 57

Miles to Date: 15,727

States to Date: 43

Fifty miles in Indiana State Highway 62 west is about as good cycling as it gets. It’s challenging: lots steep climbs; and exciting: lots of curvy downhills. At Leavenworth, the horseshoe curve of the Ohio River is extraordinary. The hills begin to taper by mile thirty, and forty miles in I was in undulating farmlands.

Then I turned onto Highway 162 and rolled into Santa Claus, a holiday-themed town with a huge amusement park that is every bit as kitschy as it sounds.

September 4, 2016 – Sunny, 80 degrees

Miles Today: 45

Miles to Date: 15,670

States to Date: 43

 I left Louisville over the Big Four, a former rail bridge converted to a pedestrian use and packed on a holiday Sunday. I headed west in Southern Indiana, first along the Ohio River and then climbing up the limestone bluffs. I cycled this area from west to east on my first bicycle trip in 2011 and enjoyed it so much I included it this trip in the opposite direction. The perfect weather reinforced my decision to turn away from the East Coast when I did; I’ve avoided Hurricane Hermine.

Since I had a short travel distance and ideal conditions, I took a long writing break. On a holiday weekend libraries are closed, so I headed to my default: McDonald’s. McDonald’s are universally clean, their staff are universally pleasant, their customers often eager to engage in conversation. If I purchased anything other than coffee, PowerAde or an occasional ice cream cone, I could be their spokesperson. But I doubt their marketing wants a guy who typically lays out only one dollar per visit.

Back in Elizabethtown Kentucky I had a memorable McDonald’s conversation. Amanda, a woman in her thirties who’s almost as wide as she is tall, brought six children, ages 3 to 11, some hers, others in her care, to McDonalds. I caught the eye of the oldest boy. “That’s the computer I want,” he told his mother, eyeing my laptop. We started talking. When I explained that I had cycled over 15,000 miles, the middle boy’s mouth dropped; the oldest said, “I could never do that.” “Yes, you can,” I said. I explained that cycling takes no special talent, just determination. Amanda, sweet as could be, asked about my journey, and let her children inspect my bike.

We never know whom we touch in life, who we inspire to extend themselves. I’d like to think Amanda’s oldest boy left that McDonalds’ with a heightened sense of his capabilities and a broader view of what his life might hold.

The Ohio River Greenway turned in from the river and climbed through Indiana limestone bluffs until I arrived in Corydon, Indiana’s first State Capital, all decked out in bunting for 2016: the Bicentennial year of Indiana’s statehood.

September 3, 2016 – Sunny, 80 degrees

Miles Today: 40

Miles to Date: 15,625

States to Date: 43

 If you arrived in Louisville from the north, you might think it was a Southern city; there are shotgun houses reminiscent of Charleston or New Orleans. Coming up from the south it feels like my first Northern city, Italianate details you might find in Western New York and solid Denver Squares.

Louisville Metro credits itself as the 16^th largest city in America, though I couldn’t find a source that agreed with that claim. I would agree it is the San Jose of the East – a swiss cheese city that’s annexed land around and beyond older, usually more affluent, towns. Louisville’s got a lot of square miles, a lot of roads, but not much density.

I spent the morning at the Louisville Slugger factory and museum, a terrific place that evoked memories of my baseball childhood. Louisville Slugger is one of the most iconic brands, and items in all of sport. I wondered what make this so. Tools are an extension of our human capabilities. Baseball bats allow us to power a ball very far. Yet, unlike universal tools, we are not equally adept at using a baseball bat. Elite athletes swing them much, much better than the rest of us. We ascribe hero status to masters of the bat. When I walked in the bat vault, where over 3,000 custom bat designs created for professional players are stored, I let out an unconscious ‘Wow.’ My personal guide, Tony smiled, “Everyone says that when they come in here.”

I took a short ride to the west side of town, the other side of the tracks in every respect, then spent the rest of the day touring Old Louisville, downtown and the riverfront. The Ohio River is mighty wide at this city founded on its fall line.

Just as Louisville seems suspended between north and south, so too it seems suspended in the early 21^st century; neither a boomtown like Nashville, nor a decaying shell like Augusta. One of the few cities I’ve visited that appears to be in stasis, viable without growing pains.

I pedaled back to the east side of town and logged a good number of miles without leaving city limits. My second Louisville host lived only a mile from where I stayed the previous night!

September 2, 2016 – Sunny, 80 degrees

Miles Today: 82

Miles to Date: 15,585

States to Date: 43

The season has changed. The morning was crisp and bright and I was out early to navigate a long cycling day with many hills, constant headwinds, and a lost hour as I moved back into Eastern Time.

The first two thirds of the ride was beautiful, though I never seemed to be out of earshot of mowers. The grass in Kentucky is truly lush, the lawns are huge, and people obviously love taking care of their green expanses. Everyone has a riding mower and trimmer.

After Shepherdsville the ride took an unpleasant turn. Five miles of road construction followed by more miles of what I call ‘big box highway.’ Louisville spreads far to the east. My niece’s house, though in Louisville, is fifteen miles from center city. There was nothing to do but grind out the miles. It was all worth it when I got to Tatiana’s house and met my grand nieces Sarah and Anna for the first time.

August 31, 2016 – Sunny, 90 degrees

Miles Today: 72

Miles to Date: 15,459

States to Date: 43

My host, Bruce Day, woke early to feed me well and then ride me out of town. Actually, Bruce rode me clear out of state. It’s great to follow a knowledgeable local on a bike ride. We took one road not taken after another; beautiful scenery and scant traffic,

Bruce turned around once we reached the Kentucky border. While he retraced the hills and forests of Tennessee, I entered the more expansive world of Kentucky. I have been to Eastern Kentucky, dense and hilly Appalachia. The route to Bowling Green could be anywhere in the Mid-west: broad fields of corn and soy beans with occasional fields of tobacco. The roads are very fine and the rural drivers courteous.

I toured historic downtown Franklin. I am fond of towns that have a courthouse square with commercial blocks on four sides rather than a linear Main Street. A courthouse square organizes the town’s quadrants and celebrates our foundation as a nation of laws over individuals or commerce. We may not be maintaining that ideal as we ought, but I appreciate how courthouse squares celebrate that essential aspect of the United States.

August 30, 2016 – Sunny, 90 degrees

Miles Today: 41

Miles to Date: 15,387

States to Date: 42

I walked out of the Nashville Entrepreneurial Center, located in the former Trolley barn turned hip workspace along the Cumberland River, after spending two hours talking with thoughtful energetic young people. Downtown Nashville spread before me like a tableau of the New South. Five construction cranes hovered above the city’s bursting skyline; three more swung in the distance. On a per capita basis, Nashville may be the fastest growing city I’ve visited. The place is brimming with a concerted focus on livability and sustainability and good intentions that can’t keep up with themselves. There are bike paths all over downtown, but construction barriers everywhere block many of them.

Music City throbs with a caffeinated baseline. Energy pulses through the streets, electric bus energy that pumps your spirit rather than pollutes your lungs. The place feels good, if you hanker for a frenetic beat. Not sure where you might find a languid, tragic ballad.

I rode by the Capital and the Parthenon, and shared a great lunch at Fido, near Vanderbilt, with a long-time Nashville musician. Then I pedaled up Music Row, over the river, and through the charming streets of East Nashville. Superb cycling all the way to Hendersonville.

Bruce Day, my host for the night, demonstrated a whole new level of warmshowers hospitality. When I mentioned I’d like to check my tire pressure, the retired ED doc commandeered my bike and gave Tom a complete wash and chain service while we traded touring stories. His wife Wilma served a delicious put roast dinner and washed my clothes better than I’ve ever managed. Four of Bruce’s cycling chums, several of who are also PhD’s, gathered in the basement to share beers and snacks and chew over our prospects for tomorrow.

August 29, 2016 – Partly cloudy, 85 degrees

Miles Today: 62

Miles to Date: 15,346

States to Date: 42

I got up and out by seven for another day of scenic riding through Tennessee’s rolling hills. The greenway through Murfeesboro is one of the nicest I’ve seen; well used even on a Monday morning.

The path goes right through the Stones River National Battlefield that commemorates the Battle of Stones River, a major turning point in the Civil War. On December 31, 1862 the Union began an offensive across Stones River to cut the Confederacy, and it’s rail transport, in half. For the duration of the war the Union maintained up to 50,000 troops and an immense supply depot here. They built two miles of earthworks to protect their wares from which they could also launch cannon attacks on the town. This is where Sherman launched his devastating March to the Sea.

The rest of the way into Nashville was increasingly urban, but there are bike lanes on most major roads of the city. I spent the afternoon at the Southeast Library, an immense local branch; my favorite repurposing yet for an abandoned shopping mall.

August 28, 2016 – Partly cloudy, 85 degrees

Miles Today: 46

Miles to Date: 15,284

States to Date: 42

Tennessee is beautiful place to cycle. The roads are in good shape, drivers are courteous, and the scenery is lovely. I spent the entire day on back roads.

As a cyclist, and lousy drinker, I opted for the ‘dry’ tour at the Jack Daniel’s Distillery in Lynchburg. Still, when our guide simply lifted the top from a fermenting vat the vapors rushed through my head and cleared my sinuses for the rest of the day. Old No.7 is a powerful brew.

It’s rained, at least once, every day for the past three weeks. Today I was lucky that the shower occurred during my factory tour. The remaining miles to Bell Buckle were glorious. The landscape is so rich, green, and sculpted I felt like a figure in a toy train landscape.

Bell Buckle is a funky little town that’s transformed itself into an arts colony of sorts. My host, John, took me all over town and introduced me around to a city councilwoman, restaurant owner, and Cubs fan. Everyone is related, by blood or just by knowing each others’ business.

August 27, 2016 – Partly cloudy, 85 degrees

Miles Today: 63

Miles to Date: 15,238

States to Date: 42

A day of easy riding down the broad slope of US 231 to the Tennessee River, winding along the bicycle path up Aldridge Creek, meandering through Huntsville’s lovely suburban streets into historic downtown, and rising up Meridian Street past Alabama A&M.

Then things got tricky. US 431 is one of the busiest, least bike friendly roads of my trip. A thunderstorm storm led me to lunch at a mediocre Mexican place. I stayed dry but was hardly satisfied. Once I entered Tennessee, and passed the lottery shops that line the border, the road improved. By the time I reached Fayetteville, the sun shone once again.

Any day I reach my destination in one piece is a good day. Today felt particularly good since I managed to get in and out of Alabama without mishap, which was not the case the last time I cycled Dixie.