In Memory of Warmer Summers

Rumble grumble

May 15, 2011 by Carl McDonald

Tishomingo, Mississippi to Shilo, Tennessee

Friendly horn taps: 1

Miles: 59

Total so far: 1,210

Breakfast/planning session at our campsite in Tishomingo, Mississippi. Note the cold weather gear is out, including gloves and knee warmers.

We reached Tennessee today and put Mississippi behind us this afternoon. Unfortunately we found ourselves on a very small back road that did not provide a welcome sign of any kind, so I have no picture. I could have photographed the Tennessee Lottery sign at the country store not too far back, but I try to have a little bit of class when it comes to this blog.

This morning we were on Mississippi State Route 365, just south of Cairo when we had a white Chevy pick-up drive by us very close at highway speeds. There was no other traffic on the road. Occasionally bicyclists see drivers do this. It’s extremely dangerous and massively stupid.

My theory on this is that driver’s are trying to do a “brushback”. In baseball, a brushback pitch is a pitch thrown high and inside, usually a fastball, to force the batter away from the plate, often to intimidate an aggressive hitter. I believe that drivers think the highways are not for bicycles. It’s easy to come to this conclusion because some drivers offer their opinions on this quite loudly, sometimes accompanied by a thrown beer bottle or some other nicety. Fortunately that’s not very common, but it happens.

16" rumble strips encompassing the white line

You can see in this picture of highway 365, there are rumble strips cut into the pavement that encompass the white line. The rumbles are about sixteen inches wide, and this particular highway has just a few inches to the right of the rumbles before the pavement ends. Rumble strips cannot be ridden on by a bicycle without the rider losing two things, first all the fillings are vibrated out of their teeth, and then they lose control of their bicycles.

When rumble strips are used this way, cyclists have no choice but to ride in the lane of travel, i.e. left of the white line. That’s perfectly legal, but motorists, particularly aggressive motorists get the idea that we should be closer to, or over on the other side, of the white line. With these sort of rumble strips, that’s not possible. It’s rare (today was a first for the whole trip), but less than deep thinking hotheads decide it’s their duty to drive by very close to indicate their displeasure with the cyclist using the lane of travel.

Just to put it out there, cyclists are entitled to the lane of travel — the entire lane if needed, in all fifty states.

Other than this unfortunate incident, Mississippi drivers have been extremely nice, but sorry, Florida, so far Alabama has all of you beat for the most courteous (cyclists already know Florida consistently ranks low on courtesy and safety).

Please know I am a big fan of rumble strips — they save lives. My law enforcement career was in a state where one vehicle rollovers were consistently the highest percentage of all fatal crashes. They always began with some sort of lane departure. Rumble strips are a great way to warn drivers of lane departures. There are ways to incorporate rumble strips that allow for cyclist safety and maneuverability.

_____________________________________________________________

Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Arnold Cousins

Arnold Cousins

Arnold H. Cousins, Jr., of Richmond, VA.

Musician, artist, restaurateur, racoteur, bon vivant, father of 4.

Killed in 1989, age 64, in a head on crash with a drunk driver, while driving home from dinner with his 5 year old son.

Posted in Living the life, The mental challenge | 1 Comment »

The beauty and the loss

May 14, 2011 by Carl McDonald

Aberdeen, MS to Tishomingo, MS

Friendly horn taps:1

Rude honks: 1

Miles: 82

Total so far: 1,151

Sunset breaks though during the rain last night in Aberdeen, MS

Some views of unique southern architecture in Aberdeen. This home was built in 1852.

Today we rode in the cold. Really. I had a jacket on most of the day until I tried to take it off and ride for awhile in my jersey and had to put the jacket back on. Tomorrow will be colder. In Mississippi. Really.

Nothing could be more chilling than our ride through Smithville, Mississippi today. For years I’ve seen correspondents at tornado sites and other natural disasters posed with destruction behind them, and I know the camera angles are set for maximum effect.

Smithville, MS

What I saw today in Smithville, Mississippi is very difficult to describe. The town was hit by an EF5 tornado on April 27, and — well — there is nothing left. We saw about three houses, none of them habitable in the town that used to hold 857 residents. They are reporting the tornado had winds of 205 miles an hour, was 1/2 mile wide and three miles long.

Our ride through the highway that bisects the town caused me to feel like an intruder. I took but one picture, because this was a private scene. I did not want to intrude. It was not unlike viewing a naked corpse that no one was able to discreetly cover out of respect. The American flags posted on the piles of debris took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes. From checking the news reports, they have the death count at 16 which seems proof of miracles. I cannot imagine what those folks lived through, and are living with.

We had lunch in Fulton, MS where all the restaurants closed and the town held a fundraiser for the people of Smithville. The high school drama group in Fulton had been working on a 100 cast member production of the Wizard of Oz, and originally arranged the street celebration and cookout to generate funds for their presenting their play at the Orpheum in Memphis. The young people chose to forfeit their trip and continue with the fundraiser to assist the victims of the tornado in Smithville.

The quiet beauty of the Natchez Trace Parkway

We rode for about 12 miles on the Natchez Trace Parkway towards the end of our ride today. The Natchez Trace Parkway runs 440 miles from Natchez, MS to Nashville, TN. I’m told the forests lining the road is old growth virgin timber and carries the natural diversity in trees and flora that cannot be found anywhere in the south. It was a sensory delight — brilliantly green, quiet, aromatic, and peaceful.

We are camped on the shores of a lake in Tishomingo State Park tonight. I am warm, dry, and comfortable in my tent. I will reflect upon the contrasts I’ve seen today for a long time. There is great beauty here in Mississippi, yet at the same time there is also a ripping sadness and loss. They will rebuild in Smithville, just as people have done so for all of time. They will do so because of the beauty — it will be heartfelt like no other time though, because of the loss.

______________________________________________________________

Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Larry Ray Harrison

Larry and his Mother

Larry was 16 years old at the time of his death. He was in special education and won many awards in the Special Olympics at school. He was looking forward to graduating in 2012 and getting his driver’s license. Larry was killed by a drug impaired driver.

Posted in Somber thoughts, Thoughts on moving forward |

Talking to Rocky

May 13, 2011 by Carl McDonald

Columbus, MS to Aberdeen, MS

Friendly horn taps: 6

Miles: 35

Total so far: 1,069

Starting coffee. Note the "critter proof" pole in the background with the partially ripped grocery bags.

We were partially rained out today after a valiant effort to ride in the rain. We had to hole up twice, once for lightning and once for a pending thunderstorm that appeared pretty strong. We rode in the rain into Aberdeen and after a lunch break, decided to sit out the rest of the day and get a hotel room for a break.

We’ve ridden eighteen days straight and last night we agreed to take a day off after today’s ride. Instead, we’ll count today as a short day and ride tomorrow, but I suspect we can’t keep this up without a day off soon. We’ll have to monitor ourselves closely for fatigue.

Speaking of fatigue, last night at our camp, we hung our trash on the provided metal trash pole in our traditional plastic shopping bags (a very valuable commodity when touring). In the middle of the night, I awoke to a bit of a racket to see a raccoon hanging from the pole like an experienced lineman and grabbing at the bag. I yelled to him, “Hey!” and he stopped his pawing, turned toward me for a minute and just hung there like he was deciding if he needed to pay me any attention. I yelled again, “Get down from there!” He slides halfway down the pole hand under hand with his legs wrapped around the pole like some kind of veteran fireman, stops and looks at me again. I said, “Go on, get out of here!” He slides the rest of the way down the pole and saunters off. True story.

The rest of the story:

When I first yelled to the raccoon, he turned and with one paw holding onto the pole, his feet firmly braced around below him, he looks at me and gesturing with his other arm says, “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes, I’m talking to you. What is that, a Chicago accent?”

“Brilliant”, he says, “You must have graduated from the sixth grade. Yes, genius, that’s a Chicago accent.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Me and some guys…we got in some trouble. A forestry guy packs me up and ships me here. They say it’s for my own protection. Don’t worry about it. Hey, you got any pizza in these bags?”

“No.”

Sliding expertly halfway down the pole, he says, “I like deep dish. These clowns around here, all they got is frozen. Hey, where’s your camper? You got no car here?”

“No. Our bicycles are over there. We are riding bicycles from Florida to Oregon.”

“What? Are you nuts or something? I smell oatmeal packets in this trash, are you eating just the healthy stuff?”

“Yes.”

“Sheesh. Figures. You’re probably eating gunpowder and drinking nitroglycerine to make a ride like that. Go get yourself some deep dish and relax some. I’m outta here.” And off he went.

____________________________________________________________

Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Adam and Lindsey Arnold Zimmer

Adam and Lindsey

Their life was just beginning. They had it all. A new marriage, new job, new home and new baby on the way. They had so much to live for and so much to give. Their favorite saying was, Live, Laugh, Love, and live, laugh, love is what they did.

On February 21, 2009, my son Adam, his wife Lindsey and their unborn son, Riley were killed by a drunk driver in Illinois. They were on their way to a Blue’s hockey game at about 4 in the afternoon. The man that killed them had at least 6 prior DUI’s and a suspended license. He hit them at over 100 mph pushing them into the oncoming lane where a truck hit them. That driver was also under the influence. They were killed instantly.

The world, and my life, will never be the same.

Susan Zimmer

Posted in Just for fun | 7 Comments »

Where are we?

May 12, 2011 by Carl McDonald

Cochrane, AL to Columbus, Mississippi

Friendly horn taps: 2

Rude honks: 1

Miles: 61

Total so far: 1,034

Our last night's camp near Cochrane, Alabama on the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway

We are now in Mississippi, having passed through our Alabama section. This may confuse some, and I have to frequently check the maps to be certain I understand our path.

State number three

We started this journey in Fernandina Beach, Florida which is north of Jacksonville, just across the water from the Georgia coast. We went south to St. Augustine, picking up the Southern Tier Route there and started west. That route took us to the east coast of Mobile Bay where we turned north, joining the Underground Railroad Route as we came adjacent to Mobile, Alabama.

We’ve gone north from there, tracing the western edge of Alabama, and ever so slightly west which brings us into Mississippi. We will go north from here into central Tennessee and proceed north and a little east through Tennessee. All of this to get to Oregon. Yes, this is not a direct path. Not even close.

A Mississippi cypress swamp, we are still in alligator country

____________________________________________________________

Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Kathryn “Kaye” Borneman

Kathryn "Kaye" Borneman

Kaye was killed in a drunk driving collision in Vermont the day after Christmas.

Posted in Living the life | 1 Comment »

On 13 year cycles

May 11, 2011 by Carl McDonald

Linden, AL to Cochrane, AL

Friendly horn taps: 4

Miles: 78

Total so far: 973

Looking west from Bluffport Road in Sumter County, Alabama

The Tombigbee River near Warsaw, Alabama

Yesterday at about 8 or 9:00am, we noticed a noise in the forests around us. It was an ongoing thrum of sound, not too much unlike the sound old science fiction movies attributed to flying saucers — a steady, penetrating slightly electric sound, more that a buzz, but less than a musical note. And it was loud and pervasive, and seemed to be growing louder as the day went on. It was everywhere there were trees, and there were trees everywhere.

It turns out we are present in the south for the periodic cicada, or Magicada Brood XIX, the Great Southern Brood that emerges every thirteen years. It is said that in Alabama, as many as 1.5 million cicadas can sometimes be found on one acre of land. Male cicadas produce the loud and incessant buzzing sound as they attempt to attract females. I mentioned to one person I met in Putnam, Alabama that the sound is rather pretty. He looked at me with one raised eyebrow, as said, “You haven’t worked in the woods when they are out. It’s downright spooky.”

13 year cycles. My daughter was killed 13 years ago this year. 13 years before that, I was hired from the police department I worked for to join the Wyoming Highway Patrol. 13 years before that, and well…let’s not date anyone here, but somebody graduated high school.

That puts things in a somewhat shocking perspective for me. riding for the last two days and listening to the cicadas has caused me to deeply reflect on the huge changes that have taken place in my life in the span of 13 years. The emergence of the thirteen year cicada is solid proof that we are but vapor in the span of infinite time. I’m moving forward for the next thirteen and look in anticipation for these landmarks in time.

__________________________________________________________

Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Kimberly Grace Barbera

On July 13, 2009, we lost my sister Kimberly Grace Barbera to a drunk driver. She was 20 years old and was in a motorcycle crash in Rhode Island on July 12. The driver was drunk with a blood alcohol concentration of .126%.

Our lives will never be the same again. -Katy Barbera