B's knees

Crossing the Mississippi and heading into Missouri!

DAY 22
Chester, IL to Centerville, MO

The Mississippi River rages beneath our tires. A 'Welcome to Missouri' sign attached to the bridge zips by. Three states down, seven to go. It's 6:00 am and we have a long hilly 81 mile day ahead of us. A feat which seems extra daunting due to the lack of sleep from our late night of drinking. By late night I mean 10:30 pm, which is very late for professional cyclists like us. All of these distractions dissipate as we enter a new state and watch the sun burn a hole through the morning fog over fields of bright green young corn. Thanks to the Vitamin I, the headache I awoke with is gone. It's going to be a great day.

So happy the bike trail signs are back

At a snack break the day before, I had been sitting against a building with my back tire resting close beside me at eye level. The tire appeared almost completely bald, with an orange streak down the middle of it. Today at a bike shop in Farmington Missouri, the bike mechanic stares at the tire in awe. "I've never seen anything like this. You're telling me this tire only has 1,300 miles on it? I'd have guessed 3,000+." For a fee he rotates the front and back tires and ensures me the tread should be fine, now that the bald tire is located as the front wheel. Becky and I share everything. We share decision making, we share finances, we share good times and bad. However, the one thing we don't evenly share is the weight in gear we carry. I get it, I'm bigger and stronger, I can handle carrying the extra load, but apparently my bike tire cannot.

Mark Twain National Forest

I make a joke to Becky, "When someone asks you what you saw on your bike trip across the country, you're only going to say your legs." She manages a slight smile, then returns to her coping position. I'd been watching her in my mirror. A serious face seldomly glances forward today, her head tilted down in resignation and pain. Our last stop she had taken four Vitamin I. It's hard to know how to help someone without feeling their pain for yourself. How far will she push herself without truly letting me know her pain? How far should I push her? We travel 96 miles today due to lack of campsites and the need to shorten a potentially brutal day tomorrow through the Ozarks.

The tiny little town of Centerville, MO

I was promised a beer if I did the 96 miles :)

Stats: 
Miles: 96.24
Average speed: 11.5 mph
Max speed: 40.1 mph