The Thin Blue Ride - Part 2 Day 65 - Marshfield, MO (+9) to Yukon, MO

Monday, August 12

We interrupt this post for breaking news from “AccuWeather”.  This in the form of a screenshot taken by yours truly upon reaching the last town before today's planned destination.  So at this point we're 53 miles into a 63 mile day - 10 more to go...

See that big "94" in the upper left?  Yeah - forget that.  Look just below it where it says "Real Feel 110".  That's what "AccuWeather" calls the heat index and that was the reading when we passed thru Houston - yes in Missouri.  Who knew?  And it felt all of that.  For the last 15 miles, I asked Susan to spot me every 5 miles just in case things went south and I had to call the day off a bit early.  She was a trooper.  At the last stop just 5 miles from our destination she was standing beside The Rig with a cold bottle of orange juice.  Just what the Dr. ordered.  We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming...

Ride Report:  63 Miles, 2,879 Total Miles, 15.5 Avg. mph, 3,727 Ft. Climbing, 5,023 Calories.  Not quite as much climbing as yesterday, and yet again this is reflected in the Avg. mph which was slightly higher today.  And I gotta tell ya, it was pretty miserable riding today after about the first 90 minutes.  But this is the way of things.  We won’t ever get to the East Coast if I sit around waiting for good conditions.

So - here's how today shaped up.

Delta with one of the few sections of flat road we've seen since entering Missouri.  For a brief stint today, we followed a river to the next town.  I think this lasted something like 4 miles.  It was a nice break from the Missouri roller coaster.

Still early in the day.  The reader can tell because there is no sweat dripping from my brow.  Delta hates being dripped on.  Serves him right, as snarky as he's been lately.

A "cool old barn" shot.  I liked the tree covered hill in the background.  Not so much because it was behind the barn as because it wasn't in front of me with the road going over it.  I think that's the only hill we saw today that we didn't climb.

We passed over several of these creeks before I figured out what was bothering me about them.  There's no mud.  Somebody came in and put landscape rock everywhere.  Plus, ya can see the bottom of the creek THRU the water.  Unheard of - in Kansas. 

Another highway shot.  Note that in Missouri shoulders are catch as catch can.  The one ahead of Delta in this pic lasts for another 20 feet and is then covered by overgrowth.  On one occasion (not here) we were riding on the road and the weeds/grass were 4 ft. high and encroaching on the roadway.  Ya know how you can occasionally go thru a neighborhood with tree lined streets and see where big trucks have "trimmed" the trees overhead.  It was that way with the roadside overgrowth.  I could tell that cars had "trimmed" it back so it was even with the white line.

This is the farthest I've been able to see since entering Missouri.  The reader should note the haze obscuring the hills in the distance. More humidity.  Actually, the same humidity - different day.

I also got this view of distant hills.  I think this was at a rest stop late in the day.  I gotta say, it's tough to want to stop and take pics in weather like this.  The only break I get from the heat is the self generated "breeze" of forward motion on the bike.  It's a real killer to climb hills with the wind at one's back - no breeze at all then.

First, the reader should note that I'm in the shade for this pic.  Hey - take your luck where ya can find it.  Second, I've never seen an entryway like this to a property, "Garner Covert Memorial Farm."  I'm certainly glad my name isn't Garner Covert.

Note the shaded rider in this pic again.  Susan and I both saw this out building and thought it was cool.  It was on a well cared for property with a nice house.  I think it's original construction.  I think Susan is leaning to new construction due to the shape of the windows.  Readers?

And finally - today's sign that the apocalypse is upon us...  

Susan has for some time been complaining that the roads in Missouri are narrow.  So she took the following string of three pics and showed them to me in order to make her point.  

This is a pic of the port side of The Rig viewed from the front.  Susan says the reader should note that the muffler for the generator overhangs the yellow dividing line between the lanes of travel.  This to say nothing of the mirror and how close the coach is overall to that same yellow line.

This is the starboard side.  Susan makes the same point here.  Chiefly that there is little in the way of lane width for her to play with as she maneuvers The Rig down the road.

And this is the view from the back.  She says The Rig doesn't like the trailer - makes her rear end look big.

For my part, I maintain that I can trim a couple inches off the generator's muffler, there's nothing to strike on the starboard side so she can overhang the white line to her heart's content, and that's why we bought a trailer with one wheel in the middle - no lane width worries.  I think she plans to hit me up for a new Union contract and has staked out her bargaining position.  Bah - my elevator may be slow, but it eventually goes all the way to the top.  I'm on to her game, having negotiated contract stuff in my previous life.

Finally, some musings on my part.  I spent a good portion of the day today trying to think of how best to describe Missouri to the reader.  Because trust me, it's an entirely different experience when viewed from a bicycle saddle.  Chiefly, me thinks, because one has the time to think on these things when moving at a more sedate pace.  And being widely renowned as a thinker, here's what I came up with.

There is some "wow factor" to what I've seen of Missouri to date - but ya kinda have to be looking for it since it doesn't jump up and bite ya like it does in the mountain west.  There is the occasional scenic vista with tree covered rolling hills in the mist shrouded distance.  There are some wild flowers alongside the road in places.  The creeks and rivers run clear and it's nice to stop and soak in the view occasionally.  The problem is that these are but fleeting moments.  More regularly, roadside overgrowth forces me off the shoulder and into the roadway.  (They apparently don't mow the shoulders here.) The countryside looks (is?) lush, but in riotous fashion: vines crawl on everything, weeds overgrow old buildings that might otherwise provide a nice photo op.  Even the wildflowers alongside the road look thorny in their tall, gangly sort of way.  One gets the sense that the countryside around here doesn't so much embrace man's intrusion into its space as it does tolerate us.  And at that, just barely.  It seems satisfied to patiently wait for the opportunity to return our best efforts to their natural state.

We'll see if that assessment holds up.

Till next time.