Nothing to See Here

Ok people, we have a lot of ground to cover tonight so keep up, no questions until I’m done and no peeking at your neighbor’s paper. First thing we need to do is have everyone get out there Blow Me Tour ‘25 Bingo cards. These would have to be homemade because none were actually distributed. Points for anyone that had any of the following: A lighthouse in Missouri, Irish Car Bombs, me shaving off one of my eyebrows or aomeone eating with their foot at a restaurant.

The lighthouse is self-explanatory and a picture will be included later.

The Irish Car Bomb is a bit more complicated. I have spent the previous 3 nights at my brother (FAM) Fletcher’s house, spending time with him, is wonderful wife Sarah, and their two boys. Last night, after a round of golf with Fletcher and his friend Matt, we decided to go to a blues festival. On the drive over, Fletcher decided to try and earn favored uncle status and called our daughter Colleen in Dublin, where it was 12:30am. Fortunately for us, she had just walked back in from a night of carousing. He pressed hard, but I’m not sure if he was able to supplant by brother Jeff. Anyway, by the time we got to the festival, Sarah and Matt’s wife were already there. We had to go get the other lawn chairs and pick up some pizza to bring back. While we were waiting for the food, we sat at the bar. In honor of Colleen, fresh in my mind from the phone call, I ordered a pint of Guinness. This caught the attention of the young lady next to me who said she was Irish despite her clear and obvious southern Missouri accent - Megan middle name last name that I have forgotten but both sounded Irish to me. Megan then ordered the aforementioned, Irish Car Bomb - shot of Bailey’s mixed with Jameson in a shot glass, which is then dropped into a half pint of Guinness and chugged. We didn’t want her drinking alone so we ordered a round and proceeded to choke them down. Video attached. BTW, the pizza was bad and the music was meh, but it was a fun evening and great prep for today’s ride.

The accidental eyebrow removal was the night before we were leaving Vancouver which I consider the preparation phase. I have often taken grief from my otherwise beautiful family about the somewhat bushy and unkempt condition of my brows. In order to address this, I recently got a trimmer. I decided if I took care of this matter before I left, I wouldn’t have to bring the trimmer on the trip. The trimmer is very effective with a little guard on it to trim everything to the same length. It is even more effective without the guard on it if you’re accidentally or on purpose trying to remove them completely. Kelly heard the “Oh shit” or “Uh oh” downstairs and intuitively knew that I had cocked something up, as I often do.

Finally, at the Pleasant Hill Cafe this afternoon, I stopped for a Coke and a slice of apple pie. Picture included. While I was eating, I notice a man two tables away with a fork between his toes and his foot on the table. It turns out, the man had no arms and was flexible enough at 57 (I heard him tell the waitress when she asked) to get his foot to his mouth. It made sense given his circumstances, but still not something you see everyday (or ever, in my case). No picture included, for obvious reasons.

Now that we’ve addressed that, let’s get on to what everyone is waiting for - where am I tonight. That is a bit of a story in and of itself, but first, I have to say this: whoever picked Buffalo, Wyoming and Wichita Falls, Texas in the bet, that’s just mean and I hope you get your asses kicked in the bet. You should both have to put in an extra $10 for those guesses. I have actually been to Buffalo, Wyoming on a cross-country bike trip in 1988. I don’t remember much of the town, but it was inoffensive and if this little sliver of my memory is correct, we actually took a day off there and played a round of golf with rented clubs. It’s just the implications. It is 815 miles from KC, so the wind would have to be blowing the same direction all week AND I’d have to AVERAGE 116 miles a day. All uphill and through two of the dullest places on earth, Nebraska and Wyoming. That’s just rude! Wichita Falls is a much more manageable distance at 498 miles, but it’s in Texas. Do I need to go on? Apologies to any of Kelly’s family members who might have stumbled across this post tonight, but you guys are all in Austin - that would have been better but still bad.

The answer is Clinton, Missouri. I actually stopped riding 17 miles back up the road in Urich, Missouri but there are no hotels there. Clinton was my target at the start of the day, but based on the route I followed, it would have been a 107 mile ride. After the apple pie stop at mile 51, nothing good happened until Fletcher came and rescued me, sitting on my exhausted and sore ass in front of a Casey’s (convenience store for you non-Midwesterners). I left Pleasant Hill on the Katy Trail - after spending 20 minutes trying to find it and making at least three wrong turns in the process. The trail is flat, straight, crushed gravel, and mind-numbing boring. It is also protected from the wind by trees on either side of the trail, so if there had actually been any wind, which there wasn’t, it wouldn’t have helped me much anyway. I lasted about 15 miles on the trail before I had to find a paved road and see something else. I mapped to the aforementioned town of Urich and got off at the next opportunity. The pavement last about a 1/2 mile and then threw me on to a dirt road that hooked back up with the trail 🤦. I followed it again for a bit longer until the next paved road and tried again. A fateful decision. The pavement again ended very shortly after I turned and I spent 16 of the last 17 miles to Urich on rough gravel. My ass hurt. My teeth hurt. My hands hurt. And I was almost out of water and my phone was dying. With about 9 miles to go, legs started cramping. I had had plenty to drink all day, but I didn’t have any salt tablets or Gatorade with me. I got off my bike and made the call to St. Fletcher. He drove down to Urich - about an hour in the car for him - and I managed to limp in to town. I also committed an unforgivable sin and walked my bike up a hill for a couple hundred yards. I HATE walking my bike up a hill. On a steep one, I might stop several times on the way up, but I always ride them. Tonight, I didn’t think I had any more stops left in me. If I didn’t walk it, Fletcher would have had to find me on that road.

Bookie Erin has created a heat map with everyone’s guesses and will update it nightly, she has posted it in the comments below.

Tomorrow is another day.

Irish Car Bomb

Lighthouse

Katy Trail. The only part without trees

The afternoon “breeze”

The delicious apple pie

The vehicle I had to share the road with

The bike after about 55 total miles on gravel