It was NOT hard getting out of bed to run down stairs and eat a fresh breakfast... Fresh eggs, (no egg patties) juice, fresh fruit, bacon, toast... made by someone who cared. When I entered the kitchen, Janice was standing there, with coffee made, and a lovely setting for one at the counter. I might as well have been a little girl in a candy store.
It was really nice to be able to sit and chat with Janice, and her husband who later joined us. Her husband had visited Vermont before and sold a Morgan horse there, but couldn't remember the name of the town. They also informed me that the building was a former funeral home, after I told them about our haunted house situation. And then things started to make sense... (I tried to remain calm in my reaction, and then realized that no one actually died here). Funeral homes tend to be one of the nicer buildings in town. The two of them had done a lot of remodeling, as the first floor used to be totally open. But the old stove that had been installed when the house was built in 1907 was still there. They also had old call bells from the kitchen to the rooms. It was obvious that they liked antiques, as pretty much every room was filled with them, namely chairs, tables, and lamps.
After I gathered my things and was set to depart, I said my thank yous and goodbye's, and then got talked into having some watermelon. I really couldn't pass it up, mainly because it was a watermelon that I had never had before, called Star and Moon watermelon (characterized by small white circles on the dark green melon, the bigger circles are the moons). It is not as sweet as the "typical" watermelon but it is quite delicious.
Pittsburg was the last town in Kansas, and I stopped to stretch my ultra tight muscles. And then, I had about four miles until Missouri!!!! Ohhhh how exciting! Unfortunately, there was a swamp around the sign, so it was very difficult to do many fun jumps/tricks. I tried very hard not to soak my shoes, but I guess I wasn't that careful. It was very difficult for me to get my camera to stay in any position that wouldn't really fall, or get a good a photo. Finally, a wonderful woman from Girard stopped to see if I needed any help. She was 40, and had just completed a half ironman (super impressive), and she had a change jar at home that she is using to fund a bike trip across the country. I think she was slightly relieved when I told her that the only thing that I really need help with was taking a photo. I tried to do a cartwheel for her, but I don't think she realized how badly I am at cartwheels, and it doesn't help that my muscles are so tight. It was a pitiful attempt, as it is probably obvious from the photograph below. I am so glad she stopped to help though. It was really sweet of her.
It is funny that I thought that Kansas was hilly. It was nothing compared to what Missouri had in store for me. I got to Golden City to have lunch around 2:00 pm, and I thought that the hills were pretty bad. I had the world's best blackberry pie and ice cream. I couldn't help but keep saying "This is the best pie ever. Oh my gosh," repeatedly, without even thinking that it is probably not something that people really need poured want to hear. Luckily, one of the owners in the booth next to me was one of the owners, and she was thrilled with my reaction, and we had a lovely conversation afterwards, that eventually included two full booths of people. Pie is such a great ice breaker.
I had another 30 miles until Everton, where i was trying to get a hold of cycling lodging off route. There weren't very many options other than that for miles. The towns are small, and usually have an abandoned building or two. When i was talking with the ladies in the cafe after i inhaled the pie, they shook their head when I asked them about camping.
The hills were really picking up, and they were steep, were very much like a rollercoaster. They look straight up and down, and when i got to the to of one i laughed in disbelief about the ones before me. Sometimes they look like they are stair steps... Each one is higher, and steeper. Sad part is, I hadn't even gotten to the Ozark Mountain Range yet. Three dogs shook me up a bit. They got very close to me and i wasted a whole bottle of water trying to scare them with it, but they had surrounded me so it did nothing! I sped through an intersection and they finally relented, but my legs were shaking when i was far enough away from them to stop and collect myself. Missouri's roads are exceptionally odd. Roads are numbered but mainly lettered, such as: turn right at junction A E, and then pick up MM. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason for this naming system, and I'm not sure why some are numbered and others are not... I thought because they were county our state roads, but that doesn't always hold up. As you can see, the lettering system is all over the place. I have spent hours trying to decipher this from map to map (yes, it is as exhilarating as it seems, but i need something to amuse myself with!) I just can't crack the code.
Eight miles away, I finally got a hold of the owners of Running Spring Farm, a Pheasant Hunting Reserve farm outside of Everton (very small town, population of 318) that hosts bicyclists. (www.runningspringsfarm.com it is a really neat place). Just in time, too, as the storm clouds were looming and those hills were tough and my legs were screaming. On my way there, besides the mushed Amardillos that decorate the road here in Missouri and account for the majority of the road kill here, (as far as odor goes for road kill, they are pretty discreet and there is not much smell), i saw a scorpion. At first I thought it was a crayfish (it had been a long day, give me a break), and then at the last second realized that it was actually a scorpion, and a crayfish wouldn't make sense. I'm pretty sure i yelped and got as far away from it as possible as fast as i could. Don't worry though, because a few miles later, when I saw the tarantula in the middle of the road that was the, size of my palm, I had no problem knowing what it was and almost fell off my bike. I have goosebumps just thinking about it.
The farm was gorgeous and in fields miles from any roads, and i was greeted at the end of the driveway by the sound of crickets. Bob, the owner of the farm took me to a large building next to his house with a covered patio with table, chairs, and a grill. He put his hand on the door and paused, and looked back at me and said: "now, this is going to be the best place you have stayed so far." It was pretty fabulous, I must say. There was a full kitchen, with a stove, and a coffee maker and microwave, bathroom, camo sofas and lazy boys. It was an awesome lodge, and i was pretty much in heaven (takes very little these days). There was hunting gear for sale, books, pheasant, boar and deer taxidermy. I had the place all to myself. I cooked up some dehydrated buffalo chicken to put in my tortillas, got my fig newtons and went outside to enjoy the serenity of the quiet landscape around me. While i was eating, 10-15 hummingbirds were swarming the feeder about 5 feet away from me,.and you could almost feel the air vibrate with their humming. It was so cool. I stretched, relaxed. Drank a beer (first one was free, and then 2 bucks a piece after that.. Everything was on the honor system, and there was a jar on the fridge to put money in). I had a wonderful nights sleep ($20 if you sleep in a sleeping on the bed.. What a steel!) It was a sanctuary.
I had thanked Bob as he was leaving for having such a wonderful place for cyclists. He laughed and said " well, it is meant to be an oasis for you crazy people on your bicycles." I agree with him on both accounts: some days I think you have to be crazy I'm order to do this..
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