Civil War Country
In riding with Charlie, Marcus and Kirsty the past week, a lot of events seem to revolve around eating. The only place open Sunday morning in Ellington was the store at the gas station, so that was the stop. They had a couple of tables indoors where you could sit after buying your breakfast sandwich and biscuits and gravy, which is popular around here. An older man was sitting at the table when we arrived. I’ve mentioned thick accents, but this guy, combined with his very raspy voice, put him over the top.
I was on the end of the table and didn’t have to deal with it so much, but Charlie did and had a conversation with him– although it was a little one sided. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but Charlie seemed to and would reply with affirmative comments such as “Oh, isn’t that the truth.” At one point I did catch the man saying “Magic Johnson” along with “Kareem Abdul Jabbar” so at least I now knew basketball was the topic. Of course when I asked Charlie about it later he admitted to having no idea what the man was saying as well.
The ride for the day was going to be 62 miles into Farmington, with hills similar to Saturday’s rough day. The morning was overcast again. I shouldn’t complain about the weather, but most of the time in the Ozarks it’s been overcast, so the scenery probably wasn’t as nice overall as it would have been with more sun.
Late in the morning, continuing the eating pattern, we all found ourselves at 21 Diner in Centerville (cover photo), a great little cafe with the old black and white tiles on the floor and also with a friendly waitress. I’ll miss these places.
From there we spread out again and were riding individually. The road became narrow, and the area more forested. As you ride you notice there seems to be a disproportionate number of churches here for the population. You pass them all the time.
While the area had some nice homes, it also had some that looked like they should be condemned, yet people lived in them. A real backwoods experience. I was on the lookout for dogs, but they weren’t a problem this day or the day before. Most of the ones who barked were fenced in.
When I arrived back in civilization, in this case a McDonalds, Charlie’s bike was out front and I stopped in. When I went outside to get going again I didn’t get anywhere as the back tire was flat. This was the fourth of the trip and the third for the back tire. So a delay in getting back on the road.
Just a few miles away was the Civil War Pilot Knob Battlefield and visitor’s center. It’s interesting in having started from the Pacific to all the sudden be riding through Civil War territory. Here you walk around a nice, peaceful green field that 152 years ago was anything but peaceful. I spoke with Duncan at the visitor’s center for quite a while. He’s a walking encyclopedia of knowledge about the battle and Missouri history. The center was full of weapons and items used during the war. Things such as a well preserved amputation and medical field kit, which further made you realize how horrific it must have been back then.
The rest of the ride into Farmington was good with the sun coming out. It’s a nice little city with great looking old homes and buildings. As with other towns, Farmington has converted a building into a cycling hostel. In this case it’s a former jail which was built in 1870. Whoever fixed it up for cyclists took things to another level. The place is amazing and right in the center of town. All you have to do is call the sheriff’s office, tell them you’re passing through on a bike and give them your name. Then they give you a code for the front door. Simple as that and you just leave a small donation for staying there so they can maintain it.
With a unique place to stay and having done a lot of miles in the past eight days it seemed like a good opportunity for a day off. So riding will begin again on Tuesday.
