Into the Bluegrass State
Friday I was up just after 5:00 at the Bay Creek Campground in Robbs. After cleaning the bike a little and doing some maintenance it was one of the few mornings where I was on the road before 7:00.
I was looking forward to getting to Eddyville, about five miles up the road to have breakfast before the ride really began. The only problem was that all Eddyville had was the Shawnee Mart, which wasn’t exactly well stocked. The very laid back clerk directed me to the ice cream case when I asked about the availability of any type of breakfast sandwiches, but you had to search hard for any ice cream in the case, let alone breakfast food. Sitting around tables here were four old men, having coffee and speaking in whispers, most likely about the lack of food in the place. So it was a leftover sandwich from yesterday to get me through the morning.
The ride continued into the town of Elizabethtown, along the Ohio River. After refueling here in an old cafe, I got going again on backroads with hills that seemed to be some of the steepest so far. The hills on this trip have come in many forms, but these were short downhills followed by short, very steep uphills. It was tiring.
Not long after I arrived again at the bank of the Ohio River. Here they have no bridge, but a ferry that takes you across. So it’s the one time on the trip where you have to take a boat ride. While waiting for the ferry I pulled into a temporary barbecue stand near the water and spoke with Paul, who was running it. He was asking about my trip and I told him about the hills I had just ridden. “Oh, no…those weren’t hills” he said, laughing. “Just wait until you get across the river and into Kentucky.”
He went on to say, as others have in the past several days, that the summer was very hot and very, very rainy and that I’m doing the trip at the best time. It’s made me wonder why the majority of the people who do this route ride it in July and August.
After stopping for a photo at the Kentucky border it was only another twelve not so bad miles into the town of Marion. Marion has a population of just over 3,000 people and had a good feel to it. The word was that the United Methodist Church is happy to house people coming through on bikes so I passed by.
A lot was going on there, but someone found Paul, the pastor’s 7th grade son. He must be in charge of giving cyclists the rundown of the operation, because he told me everything I needed to know about the town and staying overnight in the church. Again, it’s incredible the facilities people provide for you.
The pastor’s wife, whose name escapes me now, gave a recommendation of a place to go for dinner on Main St specializing in southern dishes called Glenn’s on Main. The restaurant is relatively new and I ordered a cajun pasta dish. The portion was huge but not having eaten much during the day, I took care of it. The waitress came by and, truly astonished, said “Wow, you’re the first person I’ve seen who’s finished it!” “Well,” I said, “I’m on this cross country bicycle trip… can I also get a piece of the pecan pie?”
Good first impression of Kentucky. I liked this town and the people I talked to here.