On October 10, I bid farewell to Tim and the students that I had met and crossed the Ohio River into Kentucky. I followed the hilly road along the Ohio River stopping in Warsaw for lunch. That night I arrived at Gen Butler State Reserve in the pouring rain. I had been given the name of some people in Louisville, Kentucky that I could possibly stay with so I phoned them from the park. They (Voyles) had not been forewarned of my arrival but invited me to stay. It would be two more days before I arrived at their home. Rain and hilly, winding roads slowed me down. The next night I camped at Tom Sawyer State Park. Despite the fact there was "No Camping" signs and security everywhere, I set up the tent in a wooded area and crashed for the night. I woke up in the morning to find the park consisted of many sports fields and cars were pouring in for the Saturday morning soccer games. I took down my tent quickly and went to the picnic area to make breakfast.
Not long after leaving the park, I hit a bump in the road and ended up with a flat tire and a broken rear rack. I made my way to a bike store where the owner phoned around and found someone who would weld the rack for me on Monday. While I was in the bike store, I started a conversation with another customer and he offered me a place to stay while I was in Louisville.
Although I had planned on staying with the Voyles, I took his name (Steve Walters) and number anyway.
I finally arrived at the Voyles and they were very friendly and accommodating despite the fact they did not know anything about me. I had been given their name by friends in Canada. I was very surprised to learn that Bob and Sue Voyle have had a cottage north of Ottawa for a number of years. I stayed at their home that night and spent the next day with them.
I decided to phone Steve Walters who I had met in the bike store as Bob & Sue were going away on the Sunday. Also, Steve lived closer to the welder who I hoped would fix my rack in the morning. He was very happy to have me stay. He took me out to show me where the welder's shop was located, followed by a tour of the city and then out to dinner. We returned to his place and I realized that he lived in a small loft above a garage. Since there was not enough room for two of us, he called a friend and went there for the night, leaving me the loft all to myself.
I spent most of the next day getting my bike fixed and getting film processed. I left Louisville with the intention of staying at Otter Creek
Park.. I arrived at the park in the dark and while searching for a site, I met Ray Roland. He
suggested that, in the interest of economy, I set up my tent on his site since I would not have to pay. He had a monstrous motor home with a Cadillac and a brand new SUV parked beside it. After I made my dinner on his hot plate, we sat around and talked for awhile before I headed off to my tent.
The next day, as I headed out, the weather was cold and threatening rain. I reached Highway 60 and crossed into the Central Time Zone, gaining an hour. I rode until it was getting dark, when I stopped at a
restaurant for dinner where I met Michael Schmitt. He invited me to stay at his cottage for the
night. His cottage is actually a beautiful place which he had designed and built himself.
When I got up the next morning, Michael had left so I took my time getting ready before heading to Rough River Dam State Park. I decided to set up camp in the primitive area and there I met Sonny and Ed from Owensboro, Kentucky.
Sonny was retired from the banking business and Ed was on leave with an injury. He was a captain on a barge that carried freight up and down the Mississippi. They liked to spend their days camping, fishing and hunting. Sonny had set up about a dozen fishing poles along the riverbank with bait on the lines. For two days, they told me about
their experiences in Vietnam; about their fishing and hunting trips; and about how they liked to play practical jokes on everyone. Their stories become more embellished with each bottle of beer. They invited me to stay in their trailer as it was very cold during the night.
The next morning, we went to a local restaurant and had a pancake breakfast followed by a car tour of the local area. This was real hillbilly country. The road was very rough and it seemed like a scene out of "Apocalypse Now". After we returned to the campsite, Sonny took me on a boat trip to check all his fishing lines. The main catch in this area was catfish but, in the two days that I was there, he never caught any fish. He did shoot a ground hog one day but I later discovered that they prefered raccoon.
The second evening was another night of storytelling around the fire but this time the "boys" had invited two girls from another campsite to join them. The girls only spent a short time at our campsite listening to their stories.
The next day, after biding farewell to Sonny and Ed, I arrived at Lake Malone State Park in the dark. My stove would not work and I could not see to fix it, so I ended up having cold cereal for dinner. In the morning, I did some shopping, fixed the stove and managed to have my dinner by a campfire accompanied by the sound of classical music playing.
I next set my sights on a state park near Clarkesville, Tennessee.
I arrived there to find that it was a Nature Reserve with "No Camping" but decided not to break my routine of spending the first night in each state for free.
The next day, October 22, I crossed the Cumberland River south of Clarksville, Tennessee and the hills became steeper and longer and the temperature rose to 80°. I ate lunch and soon began to feel sick. I am not sure if it was caused by something I had eaten, the hills or the heat. I pulled into a rest stop only to find that my rain jacket and poncho had blown off when I was flying down one of the steep hills. I backtracked a few kilometers but I was unable to find them.
I struggled on toward Montgomery Bell State Park and arrived in the dark, as usual. I was exhausted so I decided to stay for a few days rest. The next day, I updated my diary, practiced Spanish and discovered how to cook pancakes without them sticking to the skillet - use Pam!
On the second day, some joggers warned me that the weather was going to turn very cold. I went into town to buy groceries and while I was inside, a gust of wind blew my bike over and the front brake lever broke. I then heard the weather report on the radio. A major storm, possibly even a tornado, was heading in our direction. It seemed hard to believe as the weather was beautiful. I returned to the campground and taped up the bike lever.
I passed the rest of the day studying Spanish and writing up my diary. After dinner, I went to the washroom to clean the dishes when I heard a strange noise. I rushed out to find that the rain was pouring down and the trees were swaying out of control in the wind. I had visions of my bike being picked up and transported to the Land of Oz. I ran out into the dark, rainy night and managed to bring my bike into the washroom. I then rushed back to get all my video and camera equipment into a dry place thinking that my tent would probably fly away.
The next day, I packed up camp and headed for the next town to look for a brake lever and some other supplies. I went on a shopping spree to "help get America back on its economic feet", buying a knife, a $6 watch (which had an alarm), a windbreaker, a raincoat and groceries.
Continuing south, travelling was more pleasant as the highway had a wide shoulder with a designated bike route for a short distant. I arrived in Centerville and checked into a Motel. The sign had read, "Newly Renovated" - but they had missed my room!
The next day, October 26, the weather network reported cold weather. I struggled on over the hills and, before reaching Mousetail Landing State Park, I stopped at a small gas station for some matches. An elderly gentleman was sitting at a table having soup and invited me to join him. They didn't sell matches, but he bought me a bowl of soup and a lighter.
I woke up the next morning to freezing cold weather, so I decided to eat breakfast in the shelter of the laundry room. When the ranger came to collect the camp fee, I learned, to my horror, that it was 11 am and I would never reach my next planned destination. It seemed that the alarm on my new $6 watch was not working.
After crossing the Tennessee River, the hills continued relentlessly. As the sun got lower on the horizon, I started to worry about accommodation. At Henderson, I went into a gas station to ask where there was a motel and when I returned to my bike, I found someone admiring it. He said that his father had built recumbants and would love to see the bike. He called his father, Albert, on his cell phone. The father showed up in ten minutes and offered me a place to set up my tent. I followed him for about three miles off the beaten track.
When we arrived at his house, he invited me in and introduced me to his wife. She was watching a television that had lost two of the primary colors so the image was blue. She did not seem very happy with my being there and continued to watch the TV and talk to her Chihuahua. Albert suggested I could set my tent up in a carport and I could use the backyard for a toilet. There was no offer of a shower and I was freezing, so I cooked a meal and went to bed early.
Albert had warned me about getting up early to go for breakfast. I jumped out of the sleeping bag and we drove off to McDonalds. He then told me that his wife did not like having strangers staying over. We returned to the house and I packed to leave. The clock has been set back an hour to standard time and I was rolling by 8 am!
The land became flatter and the weather was nicer as I got nearer to Memphis, Tennessee. I stopped for lunch in Bartlett, a suburb of Memphis and met John who delivered pizzas. He was very interested in my bike and, after talking for awhile, he offered me a whole 12-inch pizza. I used his cell phone to call the youth hostel in Memphis and, on parting, he handed me $5. I guess he thought I was a struggling filmmaker. On the way to the youth hostel, I gave the money to a street person.
The youth hostel in Memphis was part of the Days Inn chain. Martin, an Englishman travelling around the United States by train,was my roommate.
The first day, after breakfast, Martin and I decided to take a tour of the city and of Graceland. The next day, we walked around the downtown area and then went to Mud Island which is a large-scale model of the Mississippi River with a history of all the towns and cities along the river. On the third day in Memphis, I went to the Gibson Guitar factory for a tour. Martin had left by train the night before to continue his tour. I had planned on leaving Memphis on the fourth day but I spent more time than I had planned shooting video of Graceland and other places of interest.
On November 3, I crossed the Mississippi River into Arkansas. It was very flat and there was plenty of shoulder room at the side of the road to ride on. I spent the first night in a city park in Forest City. The next day, as I approached Brinkley, my rear tire went flat. I repaired it but it soon went flat again, and I had to walk the three miles into town pushing my bike. Fortunately, I found a Wal-Mart and bought the tube and repair kit I needed.
Two days later, I arrived at a K.O.A. campsite north of Little Rock, Arkansas. On one side of the campsite was a rural road with a strip joint and on the other side was a major freeway with non-stop traffic. At 3 am, patrons from the strip joint started leaving and they were all laughing and talking while their car radio was blasting loud music. A dog, tied up near my campsite, started barking and continued this noise for most of the night. I reluctantly stayed there two nights before heading into Little Rock.
I continued riding south for two days and arrived in Hope, Arkansas, Bill Clinton's birth place. I found the city park, which had a number of RVs parked in campsites, but nobody was around. I looked in the window of a hall and saw a number of elderly people eating dinner but the door to the hall was locked. As a result, I waited outside until someone came out and I asked if I could set up my tent. They inquired if I had eaten and, since I had not, returned with the gift of a big chocolate cake. When they realized that I was riding a bike, they invited me into the hall to eat.
I filled my plate with stew and they kept offering me a great assortment of food: crackers, cornbread, pie, cake, pop. This was the "Good Sam Club", Sam for Samaritan. The campers drove around in their RVs and met at different places. On this occasion, they adopted me as their grandson.
After taking a hot shower, I returned to the hall to listen to some local entertainment, a kind of Blue Grass Trio, as the other campers played cards. They insisted I sleep in the gymnasium where it would be warmer and dryer, so I retired early while they carried on with the party.
Texas
Last updated 2002-01-03