Date - July 7th 2020

Current Location - Berea KY

Miles Traveled - 835.3

Section 2 of 10 is complete! After 17 days of riding we have arrived at the Boone Tavern in Berea KY for a much needed rest day, which Johns family provided for us. They drove down for a lovely dinner and covered a room service breakfast in the morning. Living in short lasted luxury, you guys are the best!

The big difference between the first and second section is the maps. Last week we relied on Google Maps for every ride, but now we are following the established Trans American Bike route. The maps are meticulously planned to provide the best riding experience based on traffic and road conditions, and contain all kinds of helpful information including local history, weather data, emergency numbers, overnight accommodations, and small towns along the way. Also, having durable physical maps is a must while traversing landscapes with spotty service and infrequent charging opportunities.

Because many bikers are passing through this route each year, finding accommodations has been much easier. Between rest days we camp, but finding a proper patch of grass to pitch the tents can be difficult, especially in the very territorial south with no trespassing signs as far as the eye can see. If we stealth camp, we run the risk of a rude awakening to a stranger with a shot gun yelling, “What the hell are ya’ll doing on my property.” To avoid this, we have been calling fire departments and churches along the route, asking for permission to stay out back, and they have been very accommodating. We tried this a few times off the TransAm route and were usually met with confusion and denial.

The Wrong Way

After telling you how great these maps are, I have to tell you a story about the trouble we got into diverting from the route. Like many mornings, the ride was going smooth, following the route and cruising down beautiful roads. Should be an easy day we thought, then we hit a detour due to a closed bridge.

We followed signs to get back on the route, but eventually our hatred for added miles led us to follow Google on a “shorter” route to our lunch spot, Max Meadows VA. There was only one road, and 16 miles between us and a grocery store. We were already fantasizing about getting big healthy fresh fruit and veggie platters to fuel our bodies right unlike the many fast food stops we had prior.

Because of the mountainous terrain, once we were on this road, there was no turning back, no side roads to rejoin the intended route, we had to see this one through. This winding road climbed up into a deteriorating neighborhood of trailer homes and ruins. Every house had a beware of dog sign, and there was a symphony of barking that seemed to never subside. Every once and awhile a dog would sprint through an open gate, snapping at our tires as we pedaled.

Digital Value Painting from Max Meadows VA while we waited out a thunderstorm.

A guy from a passing car leaned out the window, “You’re going a long way,” or that is what I think he said through a thick southern accent. In hindsight, I am entirely sure that he said, “you’re going the wrong way.” My optimism got the best of me, and we proceeded on. The hills got steeper and steeper, to the point that we had to walk our heavily loaded bikes. Another comment came from a passing car, “it only gets steeper from here,” as he laughed and drove off leaving a cloud of exhaust from his pickup. At this point we were 5 miles in. No turning back. The tattered houses became less frequent, and the road turned to gravel. We were headed up a full blown mountain, and had to walk the entirety of it because of the grade and course gravel. We heard thunder in the distance as we climbed, and the rain came once we reached the top. We couldn’t even enjoy the down hill on the other side because of the slippery wet rocks. I could only imagine the confusion of the infrequent passing cars, “what are these boys doing out here?”

Eventually we made it through to a paved road on the other side, and the “grocery store” turned out to be a shanty little outpost in a town with a sub 100 population. Needless to say, no fruit and veggie platter to reward us.

The South

After weeks of riding, we are really starting to see the changes in the people and landscape. Out here it is the complete opposite of the city of Philadelphia. We are a long way from home. Trump banners flying along side confederate flags and even the name Trump mowed into a hilly lawn. The convenience stores reflect this with their stock of 5lb bags of pipe tobacco, tractors in the parking lot, and cowboy boot wearing patrons. This part of the country is often demonized by the liberal city population, but we have had nothing but incredible interactions with the people here. They have a different way of life, that I have started to envy. It’s peaceful, slow, and stress free living among the rolling mountains of Appalachia.

In the small town of Meadowview, we were welcomed in by the Woodland Hills Christian Church to camp in their pavilion. In the morning, they invited us for coffee, and the youth pastor Clay gave us some great history and insight on the area. He moved here a couple years ago, and had been active in the community, educating himself on their values and ideals. He explained how the confederate flag is seen as the heritage of the south, and embraced by people of all colors. He coaches a high school football team, and explained the frustration of his players when the state tried to remove the confederate flag from their stadium. He even mentioned that one of his black players had the flag tattooed to show his pride.

Our morning coffee chat at the church. From left to right, Jason, John, Clay, Jake.

Richard

Now that we are on the official bike route across America, we have been wondering if we would see anyone else making the same journey. We asked Clay if anyone has come through, and he said we were the first bikers this year to stay with him, and most years it is four groups per week. Our guess is that the unpredictable circumstances of the virus dissuaded all but the most dedicated (maybe reckless) individuals. He told us about one fellow that was walking across America who stayed with them March 9th. Maybe we will catch up to him!

Mid way through our ride that day we were taking a quick break after a hot hill climb, when we saw another cyclist pass by all geared up, he almost didn’t stop for us, but then he pulled his bike over and started to chat. What was intended to be a 5 minute break turned into hours as Richard set his bike aside and joined us on the grassy knoll while chain smoking cigarettes. The conversation ranging from discussing bike touring to the state of the world and much more. Richard, like many of us, is a freelancer out of work and figured now was the best time to do something different. Something new. He is all alone, taking his time biking from DC to Oregon with an enormous amount of gear. It looks like the when Grinch stole Christmas on his sleigh full of stolen gifts.

Eventually we had to get back on the road, and Richard quickly was out of sight, not knowing if we would ever see him again. Many miles down the road, we stopped again to fill up water and eat. Right as we were heading out, we saw the orange and yellow bags of Richards steed cresting the horizon. We said a quick hello then hit the road, sure this time that our paths would cross again

Richard. Follow his adventure on Facebook at R.H. Industries 1st Annual Pedal Classic

Elkhorn City

After more than 10 days in the state, we were all ready to move on from Virginia. None of us had ever been to Kentucky, but for some reason I had a vivid image in my head of what it might be like. After a long ride, we crossed the state line as the sun set and rode to our destination for the night, Elkhorn City. Already, we started to see the difference. There were signs warning motorists to watch out for four-wheelers, and huge limestone bluffs bounding the roadway. As we arrived in Elkhorn, 4 wheeled all terrain vehicles were buzzing down the main bridge in town, and were pulled up in every lot. Even though they were about to close, Time-Out Pizza welcomed us in with open arms, and provided a feast of subs and pizza. Just a few miles from the border, the accent was already thicker and differentiated from the Virginia countryside. We finished up the meal, and headed to the back porch where a whole gang of locals were hanging out and drinking beers. At first I felt intimidated and out of place. What’s a small city boy doing hanging out with coal miners and truck detailers from this small Kentucky town?

Time-Out Pizza in Elkhorn KY. Best pizza and subs you will ever have.

Right away we asked about all the dune buggy looking vehicles. These things are any dudes dream, I could only imagine how much fun it would be to drift through mountain trails and splash through mud. You could never drive things like these around the streets of Philadelphia without being arrested on the spot. They call them side by sides, and it seemed like they were always trying to one up each other with the best suspension or the craziest lights and stereo system. The town is situated in a valley, surrounded by steep mountains that are full of dirt trails perfect for vehicles like this.

Josh’s sparkling new souped up side by side

We quickly warmed up to the locals, and got to know all the characters as they rolled in one by one in their side by sides. First is Duck. This man is built like a fire truck, and has been working in the Coal mine for longer than I’ve been alive. Despite the initial intimidation, Duck is one of the most friendly guys I have met.

Then there is Josh, the owner of Time-Out Pizza. He is an ambitious entrepreneur running an awesome business, and trying to make Elkhorn a destination. He started a tubing operation on the river running through town and said that if we stayed the day we could take a trip down the river. That was an offer we couldn’t refuse. Right then and there we added an allowance for one fun day in each section to take advantage of awesome opportunities like this.

Side by side action, Duck left, Josh right, Richard back left, Jason back right

We also met a dude our age named Mater, named after the buck-toothed character in the movie Cars. We came from different worlds, but related to him immediately. He works on the assembly line for Toyota in Lexington, and has one of the cooler side by sides of the bunch (but don’t tell Josh).

Next is Jacob. He is a long time friend of Josh’s and with his sense of style you would never know he was from the small town of Elkhorn. He went to dental school in the city, so his accent was diluted and he offered to help translate the thick southern slang Duck and Wes were dishing out. He is working with Josh on the vision of bringing people into Elkhorn, and is even running for Mayor in 2022. Him and Josh bought some property right outside of town, and have big plans to start bluegrass festivals to bring in more people. There are plenty of other guys we met along the way, but you will have to visit Elkhorn City to hear their stories yourself!

Jacob cruising in his dad’s side by side.

The next day, I headed up from our beach front camp spot to grab some coffee, and I saw a head pop up from over the hill. Richard? RICHARD!!! He had caught up to us once again, and we immediately invited him on our tubing extravaganza. He bought us our breakfast, then we were ready to hit the river. Duck drove us up, tubed and ready, in a school bus with “river shuttle” etched into the side, then set us free. We had a blast cooling down on the rapids, and jumping some cliffs, then it was back to the pizza shop for lunch.

Finally the time had come to take a ride in the side by sides. This wasn’t some commercialized operation that required waivers and reservations, rather, it was just a bunch of guys eager to show us the coolest spots in their town. I asked Duck if they have taken any other bikers up into the mountains, and he said, “Nope, they are always in a rush, they eat, sleep, then head out.” The other bikers are missing out, because this town is incredible. We were up in the mountain trails for hours checking out huge train bridges, driving through bushes and eating wild berries.

We left in two side by sides, and by the end of our run the group had grown to 5 or 6 side by sides, and their buddy on a dirt bike, Holden. When we got back down to Time-Out, Josh cooked up some pizza’s for the group, and we hung out by a bon fire on the beach drinking moonshine until the early morning. Needless to say, the next day of biking was rough.

The group was so happy to have us stick around, and they invited us to stay for the 4th of July, but we had to get back on the road eventually. We said our goodbyes, and hope to be back in Elkhorn when Jacob is mayor!

Mater’s side by side and the late night hang out.

The Hangover

The day after the party at Elkhorn, we were back on the road By 1pm during the heat of the day. We only made it 30 miles before we were all ready to pass out. After discussing the route in Elkhorn, we decided to go off the maps yet again, but this time we had our trust in Duck, not Google. We dubbed the route the Duck alternative, and it lived up to his name with smooth rolling hills and wide shoulders. The only caveat was the rumble strips, which are unpleasant at best on a bicycle. Especially with the long night before, and blazing heat, it was hard to keep riding straight. Every so often I would hear “ahhhhhh” *BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP* as someone took a trip into the rumble strip.

Being off the maps, finding a spot to crash was quite a challenge. We reached the small town of Whitesburg, and split into two groups to ask every business possible if we could pitch our tents on their property. Over and over we were met with skepticism and confusion. The manager at the McDonald’s just said “I don’t know anything about that” and sent me on my way. We reconvened in the center of town, but everyone came back dry. Still no place to sleep. It was getting late now, and we had to start considering stealth camping behind the Walmart dumpsters again. But then, there was hope! As we were standing in the Walmart parking lot, a car pulled over and started the typical spiel. “How far are you biking?” “Where are you headed?” I got him on the hook, then asked the question. “Soooo we are tying to sleep, do you know anywhere (like your back yard) that we could pitch out tents for the night?” The man turned his head away from me to think. It was a long pause, but I knew we were on to something. Finally he broke the silence and said, “Follow Me.” Just in the nick of time, Jake and Jason emerged from the Walmart, and our caravan of four bikes rolled out with this mystery man in the lead. Just a few hundred feet down the road, he pulled into an empty lot of an abandoned senior citizen community center. His name was Harley Lee, and he said we shouldn’t get any trouble here, but if we do, we can give him a call. Turns out he is a member of the Board of Education and knows the sherif in town. To be safe, he gave him a call.

”So these boys are in town on bicycles trying to find a place to lay their heads… yeah I put them by the civic center… the park? Under the bridge?… yeah yeah sure, I’ll bring them down.”

He turned back to us to relay the message, there was a fire works show down at the park, and I guess the sherif wanted to show us a good time, so he put us right in the action. We were back on the road again, following Harley Lee’s car as he drove slowly down the shoulder so we could keep up. Down at the park, we found ourselves a nice patch of grass behind a pavilion and wished Harley the best. Slowly, the parking lot filled up with the celebrating citizens of Whitesburg as we were setting up our tents. Finally, after this rough hungover day, we were able to lay our heads. Then the fireworks started… Massive fireworks were shooting off mere hundreds of feet from our home on the road, and we were all too tired to even get out of our tents to watch. The booms were shaking the fabric of my tent, and I could just see a hint of color exploding through the trees. But I closed my eyes, and really tried to sleep. Not going to happen on the 4th.

Section 2 - The South