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Hartville, MO to Ash Grove, MO
Friendly horn taps: 3
Miles: 75
Total so far: 1,901
We got word there were three bridges out for scheduled replacement on our route today. There are extensive detours involving a lot of miles (farm country is like that – there are roads around, but nothing close and no where near direct). We saw a man at a convenience store and he said he’d driven for an hour and a half to get to Marshfield and said it’s usually twenty minutes for him.
We also got a tip from another cyclist that bicycles can go through the repair area. It’s Sunday, the crews would not be there, so we gave it a try. Success! They build temporary crossings in order to get material on the other side of the water, so it was a simple matter to walk the bikes across.
Bonus today — we had sunshine all day…and wind, but I’m not going to complain about wind — not where we are going. Bad juju.

Memorial Day weekend -- the flags in Walnut Grove were not displayed for our arrival. They probably didn't get word.
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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Sam Streeter
Sam Streeter loved to sing and have fun with his family and friends. He walked everywhere he went and he always made time to stop by his mother’s house for a cold bottle of water. His family meant the world to him.
On August 5, 2010, Sam was hit by an alleged drunk driver. Six days later he died as a result of his injuries. The criminal court case is ongoing, but the devastation felt by his family and friends is constant. His mother, Bessie and his step-father Cornelious, want nothing more than to hear that gentle knock on the door and Sam’s melodious voice once more.
Posted in Living the life |
Eminence, MO to Hartville, MO
Friendly horn taps: 2
Rude honks: 3
Brush-back passing maneuvers: 3
Miles: 80
Total so far: 1,826
We moved through the remaining steep hills of the Ozark Mountains today and left them behind. Our map information says the following: “The Ozark Range is considered to be one of the oldest in the world. It is a moderately rugged series of deeply eroded hills, sculpted by the rivers and the wind. The Ozarks are the only large area of of rugged topography found between the Appalachia and the Rocky mountains.”
We now find ourselves in more rolling country, distinguished by a series of ridges that are unusually positioned to run east-west in their orientation. This makes for good cycling as most of the roads we were on have been constructed on the ridge tops thereby reducing the number of hills. It’s still hilly country, and my friends in Dallas in the cycling club (Greater Dallas Bicyclists) would have some colorful comments about what I am now considering a bit of relief . The reality is we’ve been in fairly hilly country since Alabama, and experiencing a break in that is a relief.

Julie's order of catfish tonight - maybe we are a bad influence on her eating habits. Not to worry, the plate to the right is from the salad bar.
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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Mathew Montenegro
Mathew was driving home at night when a drunk driver entered the highway in the wrong direction and struck Mathew’s car head on, killing him instantly. Mathew was only 26. He leaves behind a loving family; his parents, 4 sisters, a brother, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, a girlfriend and countless true friends.
Posted in Living the life, The physical challenge |
Centerville, MO to Eminence, MO
Rude honks: 3 (two from trucks)
Friendly horn taps: 3
Miles: 43
Total so far: 1,746
Missouri.
I’ve encountered lots of connections to this state through the years, but riding for the last two days has awakened memories of three year old Joshua. It was 1986 and little Joshua was one of those fatal crashes that will stay with me the rest of my life. I’d worked quite a few before him, countless too many after, but that was one that stays with me. Maybe that’s the way it is with the kind of work state troopers, deputy sheriffs, city police, EMT’s and others perform. May be there’s at least one that stays with all of us. There are others, but none so vividly in place.
Joshua’s aunt called about a year and a half after the collision and asked if I remembered it. I couldn’t tell her then that it was one I’d never forget. Every detail.
Joshua was with his mother, Teresa on their way back to Missouri. They didn’t make it. I’d ordered lemon meringue pie that day at Little America outside of Green River on I-80. I didn’t get to finish that pie. Now I think that I’ve never ordered it since.
I remember details as though I am seeing it now. I can tell you exactly what Joshua was wearing. Those little things never seem to gray out in the fog of memory. Not that one. Little Joshua tried so hard to hang onto life, but it slipped away from him in my arms and I could not bring him back.
The next time you see a trooper, EMT,or law enforcement officer, you can ask about such things. They won’t tell you. They can’t. But it’s there. It’s part of who they become.
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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Adam Hosinski and Rory Weichbrod
In the early hours of October 10, 2010, in Rockville, Maryland, good friends Adam Hosinski and Rory Weichbrod lost their lives after being struck by a drunk driver. After making the responsible decision to metro home from a birthday party, a drunk driver with a blood alcohol content at nearly twice the legal limit sped into the two friends as they crossed the street to get home. Adam and Rory lived and loved fiercely – spreading their infectious smiles and laughter to everyone they met. The young men, their friends and family, and those whom they had yet to meet, were robbed of two outstanding people because of one person’s decision to drink and drive.
Posted in Somber thoughts, Thoughts on moving forward | 3 Comments »
Farmington, MO to Centerville, MO
Rude horn honks: 1
Miles: 46
Total so far: 1,703
The violent storms are behind us for now, but the unsettled weather is still here. We take off in the drizzle of the day. Riding isn’t bad. It’s a little cool, so the knee warmers are back on. The high today is supposed to only reach the low 60’s and one look at the sky tells me there is a lot of work to be done in if the sun is going to burn through the gray soup above. No predicted thunderstorms though, no tornado sirens for today, so we are off.My glasses fog and blur with the droplets that won’t leave, but it’s good to get back on the bike. We are working our way into the Ozark Mountains and the mixed growth and variety of hardwoods is dramatic.
We stop for the day in Centerville, where Julie’s equipment will be shipped, but we learn it will not come in until tomorrow.
This is a small town of less than 200 residents, and we swing into the small building housing the Reynolds County Sheriff’s Office to find that we are permitted to camp in a little square on the grounds of the County Building. There isn’t any fanfare about our arrival, as this is apparently a common occurrence for the town, however they ask we not set up our tents until after 4:30. I can’t say I blame them. A bathroom is provided at the Sheriff’s office for our use through the night. I don’t really fit in the sink for a shower, but I make do.
We set up shop at the “21 Diner”, a small eating establishment – the only one in town. They have lettuce and milk there too if needed, as there isn’t a grocery. Again, there isn’t any fanfare about our arrival. The folks there know the habits of cyclists and they know we’ll spend the rest of the day there. They offer us playing cards to pass the time, but the bonus of the day was the dill pickle milk shake they make. We cannot resist, so we order one after assurances from the proprietor that it’s not a joke, that people really do consume the things. It’s not exactly something that will start a craze in the country, but it is quite, well, not bad. Somehow the sweet plays against the dill and makes it work.
It’s a little bit like cycling in the rain. It works better than one might think, so you just have to push off and go.
Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Rudy LeTourneau
My Dad was riding a bicycle when he was struck and killed by a drunk driver. Such a loss of wisdom, advice, and unconditional love now that he’s gone. My heart aches most for the grandchildren who will never know him. We work very hard to keep his memory as vivid as possible for them, but what I wouldn’t give to have him back here making memories of his own. We miss you Dad!
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