It’s cloudy and drizzly. We are not complaining. After three days on the road, our bikes have a fine patina of dust covering nearly every surface and they could use a good washing. We have 48 miles to ride to Hermann, a town founded in the mid 1800s by German immigrants looking to create a “New World” utopia.
Crossing the river, we loop down toward a parking lot off the bridge and arrive in front of purple martin nesting structures that are in need of urban renewal. The birds don’t seem to mind, however, that their accommodations are a tad shabby.
Back on the Katy trail, we are a mile or two away from the river and ride parallel to a lightly traveled state highway. Like all preceding miles, the sides of the trail are blanketed in poison ivy, ensuring that travelers will stay on the straight and narrow.
After a few hours, the sun cuts through the clouds and with that a turtle emerges along the road. Throughout the day we also see rabbits, groundhogs, deer and three dead armadillos along the trail.
I can’t get used to the fact that in Missouri, county roads are lettered: A, OO, EE, J, etc. Each county uses different letters for roads that may connect. A weird anomaly, at least to me.
There is little diversity in our ride today and we keep our eyes open for surprises. A well preserved, albeit unused, barn hides behind adjacent vegetation.
We reach Tebbetts and we are both peckish. I muse that it would be lovely if we could find an artisanal bakery, or a local farmer selling baked goods that we could sample. Ted looks at me with amusement. We soon pass a dilapidated building with “Food, Drinks, BBQ” painted on its side, proving Ted’s point.
My dream of Mennonite muffins will stay just that.
With all the deadly plants around us, I am surprised that there is not a Katie Trail Murder Mystery series that uses the myriad of deadly and toxic plants found along the trail. We pass a stand of poison hemlock, enveloped by its musty scent.
Commenting to Ted that it appears we have beaten the rain, the sky opens up with a sporadic downpour. And in another occurrence of irony, by the time we scramble to put on our rain gear, the precipitation stops. Ted counsels me to stop tempting fate. We soon pass a trio of foraging guinea fowl.
Approaching Portland, where we hope to have lunch, we are ready for a rest. The humidity and heat are rising and the cooling effect of the trail’s adjacent stone outcroppings is fading. Holzhauser’s Bar & Grill is everything we hope for and after a filling lunch of pulled pork, onion rings, fries and a burger between the two of us, we are ready for the final 18 miles of today’s ride.
The trail has wound its way back to the river and like the previous day, we are cradled in a cooling tunnel of vegetation between the river and steep cliffs who’s view is obstructed by excessive plant growth. The only downside is both the humidity and bug count is high.
We swing away from the river and the trail, like for the start of the day, follows a local highway. For now, it is a dusty, warm ride with the wind in our faces.
Every community we pass through has MFA (Missouri Farmers Association) buildings and grain silos as well as numerous churches. It is another unifying element of our ride.
We come off the trail for a two mile ride into Hermann. Another good day.
1 Comment
By “peckish” do you mean hungry
Or crotchety, or in your current
Situation, both of these?