Day 1 (thursday) went remarkably well. I was able to put 93 miles behind me and get off to a great start! It took about 50 miles to get outside the Atlanta area, but eventually I encountered some ruralness. The day was somewhat uneventful, though I narrowly avoided an afternoon rainstorm by ducking under an opportunely vacant carport at somebody's house. The highlight, however, was my place of evening accomodations. After being turned away from "off the side of the road" potential campsites by thick poison ivy I started knocking on people's doors to ask if I could put up my tent on their property. Several attempts later, a cattle and chicken farmer, Paul, offered me a spot on his land about 3 miles down the road. It turns out it was a grassy area under a tree with a pond all to myself. Paul offered me beer and I accepted. And there was even a plastic chair (presumably for fishing) over by the pond that I brought back to my campsite for the evening. All told, it was pretty close to ideal.

Day 2 was not nearly as exciting, but I did finally hit some serious hills around unicoi state park and lake burton. In Clayton I got to talk to a curious fellow at the Black Bear Preservation Society and Nature Gifts Shop. He is very articulate about how we need to learn to cohabitate with bears lest they disappear from our lands. It turns out, though, that he has particular disdain for dogs. It seems he has "switched prejudices" as it were. All the arguments he used against dogs sound remarkably similar to the ones he says he hears against bears. Understandably so, since his neighbor has pit bulls and there isn't a leash law in Rabun County, but it was a little sad to see him so apparently unaware of his hypocrisy. The funny thing is, the only question I asked in the whole 30 minutes he talked to me was, "So, how is it that you go about preserving the black bear?" I guess he goes off on this schpiel routinely, informing the world about bear preservation as well as his views on dogs. I stayed near Franklin, NC that night.

Today, Day 3 has been great. After about 8 easy miles I headed up what I understood to be a 4-mile grueling hill. After about 4.5 miles I stopped to rest and asked a local how much further to the top. He said 3 miles. I didn't believe him at first. I proceeded to walk my bike for 1/2 a mile, then resumed. Apparently I missed my turn, though, and it ended up being a 14 mile hill (with a few little downhills here and there) taking me above Cashiers, NC. As a result I had to completely revamp my route through NC. I had originally avoided that part of the state because of a sign on the highway I saw for "sky valley" near Highlands (Cashiers is close to there as well). I just couldn't justify going to sky valley unless I absolutely had to, it sounding so high and all. Whoops! Anyway, there I was, exhausted, in Cashiers. I had a nice lunch and the ladies at the restaurant let me charge my cell phone. Since then it has been mostly downhill for 25 miles and I am close to my destination (a national forest camping area just north of Brevard). On pace for 61 miles on my hardest day thus far, I am feeling pretty good about my progress.

Tomorrow should be a bit of a break. There are 25 tough miles to get to Ray Chesna's cabin along the Blue Ridge Parkway, and I'll be calling it a day. I look forward to a shower and a bed.

Update #2 It is now Day 8 and I am in Middlesborough, KY. That's right, I finally made it to Kentucky!! Apparently it is not safe for a cyclist to ride on the shoulder through the tunnel at Cumberland Gap, so I was forced to accept a ride. After 467 miles of being safe to ride on every other road this 3/4 mile was not. After token resistance I submitted (and took a picture!).

When last I left you I was at the library in Brevard, NC. The lady on the computer next to mine let me know that there was a fantastic ice cream joint on my way out of town, so I stopped there for a delicious cone before hitting the Pisgah National Forest campground.

As I forecasted, the next day was short but tough. I had to climb up to the Blue Ridge Parkway in order to get to Ray Chesna's cabin. When I got up there I was really excited. I can't really describe it. At that point I had gained over 4000 ft. of elevation since my driveway. Unfortunately it was very foggy so I couldn't see anything in the distance. I didn't stay up there long because I was trying to catch Ray and Cynthia at the cabin before they returned to Atlanta. They cooked me a lovely dinner and went on their way and I had the cabin to myself for the evening. I took my first nap of the trip and slept hard. It was good to have a low mileage day to recover some, because at this point I was thanking my body out loud for getting me this far. In the evening I listened to some of Bush's speech and noticed that he chose to just ignore all the concerns about Iraq in favor of calling for more support for our operation there. hmm...

I slept in on Monday morning and had a liesurely breakfast. I wanted to go back up to the Blue Ridge (since I had spent so little time up there Sunday). I did not, however, want to start my day with a 6 mile climb. So I decided that it wouldn't be an integrity violation to hitch a ride if it was backtracking. Unfortunately, nobody was driving by. So I decided I'd rather do the climb than wait there all day. About 2 miles up the hill a car went by and I got a ride for the next 2 miles, up to the ridge (but not to the top of Mt. Pisgah). After savoring the ridge a bit on a sunny day, it was all downhill to Asheville. To avoid hills, I followed the road along the French Broad River north (taking a dip and playing frisbee with some guys at a rec. area along the way). On my way up to Mars Hill I took a wrong turn which ended up well this time because I decided to take back roads rather than backtrack and they had incredible views. Mars Hill is a beautiful town that has a little college in it, and though I intended to go 10 miles further I just had to stay in Mars Hill for the night (bringing my daily total to 62). Neither campus police nor city police would give me permission to camp, but a fellow sitting on his porch north of downtown obliged. After he got used to the idea of what I was doing he asked his wife to fix some extra dinner for me. Dinner was an absolute feast, and when it was over Rita offered to do my laundry and for me to shower. Naturally I accepted. Their house overlooked a tremendous mountain scene, and the nearly full moon had all the mountains lit up like day. Incredible.

Tuesday morning, per Leonard's recommendation, I biked back into town to have breakfast at the Wagon Wheel. It featured a densely populated smoking section, and I sat with the scant losers in the small non-smoking area in back. I was way too full to ride, but headed on for Johnson City anyway. The two 2-mile climbs to get over the ridge into Tennessee were challenging, but more than made up for by the 11-mile downhill into Erwin. (E-R-W-I-N that's Erwin, sing it again!) I went to pay homage to the mechanic who fixed my clutch there a couple of years ago, but the shop was nothing but rubble. Johnson City and my US-2 friend Rachel were closer than I thought, and I was there after 50 miles. Despite a lovely dinner and a bed it was a fairly uneventful day, though good to catch-up with my friend.

Wednesday, day 7, I headed toward Kingsport, TN. While there I may have been visited by a guardian angel. He approached me at a McDonald's I was using for a restroom and immediately started talking routes with me. He convinced me to head toward Cumberland Gap (as Rachel's dad had tried to the night before) instead of going through Big Stone Gap. Talking to him I just had a feeling he was probably right. Then while riding through Kingsport I broke a spoke. Now, not only do I not know how to fix a spoke but I had no extras. I thought I was in trouble. I asked a lady on the sidewalk how far it was to the nearest bike shop and she told me it was 2 blocks away. 2 blocks! Behind me it was about 25 miles to the nearest town big enough to have a bike shop. Ahead of me about 100 miles. And this is where I broke down. As I rode away from the shop 45 minutes later with a new spoke installed I marvelled, saying "God Damn! no wait - Praise God!" Times like these it make it hard to question the existence of God. Soon I crossed into Virginia and rode steady until I had gone 68 miles for the day. I was tired, but I couldn't find anywhere to stay and the next town was 17 miles away. So I got a pizza and rested for a while. I didn't finish the pizza, so I strapped the box on top of my tent and sleeping bag and rolled on my way. A motel wanted to charge me $40 and I kept riding. Eventually I spotted a dilapidated barn at the top of a hill that didn't have a home nearby. I decided it would be my accomodations for the evening. It was nice, and I went to bed with the sun so as not to be drawing attention to myself by using a flashlight.

Today I have gone 30 miles and I'm finally in Kentucky. The Daniel Boone video at the Cumberland Gap Natn'l Park visitors center was aptly ethnocentric and patriotic, but I enjoyed it. I am definitely tired today after a long day yesterday. I want to make it another 35 to a state park so I need to get going.

Update #3 I am in Louisville. Trip complete. I am at a computer lab on U of L's campus while Miranda finishes studying for her first round of tests that are tomorrow. I arrived last night, on day 10. Caveat: since I have more time to kill at this point, I will get a bit more detailed. In my earlier email when I hoped I wasn't being too detailed nobody complained. And a few folks even asked for more detail. Well, now you're getting it. If you don't have time or want to read it I don't mind.

When I last left you I was in Middlesborough, KY, just accross the border from TN/VA. Kentucky lay before me with her rolling hills and beauty of an entirely different nature than the mountains I had just been through. I had gone 30 miles that morning and taken a long break to see the Cumberland Gap Natn'l Park visitor's center and to email. I got on the road with an estimated 35 miles left for the day.

What I knew but didn't want to admit to myself (so as not to become overconfident) is that Kentucky would be all downhill to the Ohio River. My serious climbing was behind me. The hills to come would mostly be following downhills that would give me momentum to climb them. What I found is that I made great time in Kentucky.

After 10 miles on a US highway that I couldn't avoid, I was able to finally get onto some back roads (it had been about 100 miles since I had had such a privilege). I was rolling along quite well and with plenty of energy. At mile 60 for the day, in Barbourville, I stopped for some mexican food. Travelling nutrition tip: though vegetables are hard to come by on the road, a good source is the vegetable fajitas at a mexican joint. Thank you Ray and Cynthia Chesna. It was tempting to indulge and be shot for the rest of the day, but I did still have some miles to go (I had underestimated) so I ate half of them and strapped my to-go box on top of my gear. I cruised 25 miles to my destination, Corbin, feeling great (the fajitas really did the trick). What awaited me was a little tent symbol on the map, likely an RV park, but the nearest state park was still 10 more miles. Though I hadn't been willing to commit to 35 more when I was at 60, now at 85 and feeling strong there was no way I was staying at that RV park. Back I was on a US highway for the remaining 10 miles.

Pretty soon after cresting a hill I was greeted with a big downhill and an even bigger hill (I guessed 1 mile long). My first reaction was, "Oh, shit." After 85 miles I didn't know what climbing energy I had left. As I went down the hill, though, I started to feel more confident. Halfway up the hill I was still at 12 mph (much better than the 6mph I was averaging on similar hills in the mountains) and I literally said out loud, "I eat shit like this for breakfast!" and flew up the hill. Obviously, I was riding well at this point. When I got to Levi Jackson State Park the ranger was fixing to charge me $18 (since they didn't have any primitive sites). Instead, I was able to find a motorcyclist tenter (also disgruntled with the fee) who was willing to sublet half his site to me for $9. At least the ranger was kind enough to let me know about the motorcyclist, eh?

Day 9 started full of promise. I was fired-up from day 8 and realized that I could make Louisville in 2 long days. I had approx. 180-200 miles remaining. I knew the long day previous would probably leave me with less energy, and that I had 30 or so challenging miles through Daniel Boone national forest to start the day, but overall I would be fine. After 5 warmup miles and 15 tough but rolling miles I hit the steepest hill of the trip. It was only about a mile long but it brought me down to 5mph, my slowest at any point thus far. I said, "is that all you've got, Kentucky!" but then of course there were about 2 more, shorter, but just as steep. Then my bike started making a funny sound. It turns out the bolt that attaches the rack to the frame had snapped. I was another 12-15 miles from the next town, but luckily I had packed some extra nuts and bolts, one of which fit. When I got into Mt. Vernon, though, I was pooped, dehydrated, hungry. 40 miles down and not feeling the energy to make my intended 90 for the day. I found a store and hydrated, and as I was looking for a restaurant I saw a library sign. Headed for the library (and with a steep hill in front of me) I spotted a laundromat and took a quick diversion. I was in my last clean pair of shorts and would need at least one more for day 10. When I did get back on the road I was a bit refreshed but it was already getting late in the day. My lunch stop was supposed to be Berea, which I didn't get to until 4:30 p.m. After chatting with the folks at the bike shop in Berea I headed off, determined to make good time and at least 25 more miles before sundown. I was angry, though. Angry that I had had a slow and frustrating day. Angry that I hadn't done anything fun or interesting on my second-to-last day, and that I had been too focused on mileage to enjoy the journey. And finally frustrated that I was most likely going to end up at an RV park in Danville (and that only if I made great time for the rest of the day). I had some magical pretzels, though (they are supposed to be good for a burst of energy) and found myself riding great soon enough.

I made it to Lancaster in no time but decided I should take a quick break before hammering another 10 miles. I was looking for a reason to break in this small town and I spotted it: a post office. I still had some post cards to send. So I sat in front of the post office and started writing. A few folks pulled-up, did their business, and left. Then a lady started asking me questions. How far had I gone, the usual. I decided to give her my full attention even though I wanted to be writing. I said I was headed to Danville for the night and she suggested I visit the VFW there. I responded, "why, would they let me stay there or something?" She asked if I have been in the service. I said no. She said there was a DAV (Disabled American Veterans) dinner at 6:30. I thought nothing of it, and asked if she knew of a place in Danville I could camp for free. She said, "Not that I know of, except for our farm which is about 3 miles from here." I checked my odometer, and had made it 77 for the day. At this point I was considering her offer, knowing it would bring me to an acceptable 80 and leave me with perhaps just 100 to go the next day. Then she said, "You can come with us to the DAV dinner. You can be our guest." Finally I put 2 & 2 together and realized I was being offered dinner (in Lancaster) and a place to stay, and most of all an unexpected interesting experience to round out the day. How could I refuse? In the true spirit of this trip things just worked out.

So I followed them around the corner to the DAV facility and had another homecooked feast. The veterans were all so hospitable. I was the youngest one there by at least 20 years. We left with just enough daylight for me to bike to Ed and Kym's farm. They gave me a twin mattress and let me stay in an empty shed they had. They had chickens and roosters and goats and ducks and dogs and horses and rabbits. Ed said, "Have you ever heard of the funny farm? This is it." They were definitely a bit strange. Kym showed me a family history written by her father as I was sitting out reading. They were all German immigrants on her side of the family. She was the first generation born in America.

Day 10 started, of course, with the sound of roosters. I was able to hit the snooze button, as it were, and rest a little while longer. I had a long day ahead of me. Ed and Kym saw me off with bananas and snickers, and I had a nice warm-up to Danville. Danville is the home of Centre College, and I stopped on the campus to stretch, etc. I needed to use a restroom, and the only building I could find open on a Saturday morning was the dining hall. After asking permission to use the restroom I helped myself to a glass of orange juice. I felt bad because I violated the lady's trust, but then again it was only orange juice.

I had a nice ride through horse country to Harrodsburg. It reminded me of the terrain of a race I rode during college, near Lexington. Then at the store stop I got my first flat of the trip. No problem, it just set me back about 20 minutes. After Harrodsburg I had about 45 miles to the next city, though I could expect a few stores along the way. Nevertheless I stocked up on gatorade and pretzels. I cruised through perfect rolling hills. At one point I was along a delightful river and stopped to take a cool swim. After mile 50 I started to get tired, but folks at a store stop confirmed that I was within 50 miles of Louisville. Very do-able. By mile 60 I was pretty beat, and I stopped at a store and had a fish samich and ice cream. Rolling out of that store, though, I realized I had another flat. I forgot to plug the cap on my water bottle (that had gatorade) and with the bike turned over it was slowly dripping on my right shifter. Once I started going again I realized that not only was my shifter sticky but several gears weren't working correctly. I was full of energy for the last 40 miles but cursing the shifter for making my ride difficult. Soon I was in Mt. Washington, my last town before Louisville, 20 miles to go. I called Miranda and arranged to meet her at an ice cream shop on Louisville's main drag before I got to our apartment so I could share part of the trip with her.

As I entered Louisville I was feeling sad that the trip was over. My first true adventure coming to an end. Symbolically, my time in Atlanta was over. But Louisville felt like home. It felt nice. Miranda met me at Greaters, what a wonderful sight. We had ice cream and talked about the day, and then she drove back to the apartment to await my arrival and journey's completion. As I passed an old house with college students drinking on the porch they applauded me, as though they knew I was finishing a long ride.

When I finally finished it was uneventful. We carried my stuff upstairs and I locked up my bike out back with hers. I had gone 104 miles with my fastest daily average (16.2 mph), and 720 miles for the entire trip. I wasn't all that tired yet (it's probably the pretzels), but I was hungry. I really do like it here in Louisville. It's a great town. You're all invited to visit.