TERROR!

We have all done things in our lives, either by choice or by circumstance, that have made us feel like we were walking the high-wire without a net and that it could all be over in the blink of an eye. With all due respect to the day recently when our van broke down on I-40 (see previous post), today dwarfed that in terms of personal fear factor. I was looking forward to finally getting out of Missouri. Not that Missouri had been bad to me, but it had just been a long time. I had about 25 miles to go and I was excited cross the mighty Mississippi. That is, until it was time to ACTUALLY cross it. You come around this curve and with no time to change your mind (or take any pictures), you’re on the bridge. This bridge had zero shoulder, sunken seams in the road every 100’ or so, and a concrete barrier on my right. It was barely wide enough for two passenger vehicles to pass each other. Toss in a very real fear of heights and we had the whole package. As with most bridges, this had a steep pitch up, flattened out briefly at the top, and then descended. Once I realized my predicament, I hauled ass as fast as I could up and over the bridge. Apparently, I was not fast enough for one impatient trucker who passed by me within a couple feet to my left. I made it down the other side, in desperate need of a change of shorts, and pulled over to the side to catch my breath. At this point, I was in Illinois. I know that because I looked at my map, not because of any welcome sign. I’m pretty sure they didn’t bother with the sign because they didn’t think anyone would actually make it over alive. That southernmost tip of Illinois is Fort Defiance, at the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. I think the other possibility for why there was no sign was because you immediately had to go over an even longer bridge over the Ohio River into Kentucky. The second bridge had a “shoulder” if you consider a foot of room to the right of a white painted line a shoulder. It also did not have the concrete barrier, just a guard rail that wouldn’t have guarded me from a long plunge into the Ohio had it come to that. Being a veteran of the first crossing, I went up and over the second one. Except the second one was much longer and flatter as I crossed the river. Again I could hear an 18-wheeler behind me, but at least this one was courteous enough not to try and pass me. I was simply holding up traffic at my 18-20mph. As I descended from the second bridge into Kentucky, I realized there was very little room to pull over and get out of the way so this guy could pass. I found a small spot and watched a procession of rigs go flying by, all of whom were probably cursing me for holding up traffic or wondering how anyone could be so stupid as to ride a bicycle across those bridges.

FYI, my choices for crossing were going 30 miles out of my way (each way) to the north to Cape Girardeau, going 25 miles out of my way to the south to cross by ferry, or going 150 miles south to Memphis. That’s it.

Looking back over the Mississippi R bridge from Fort Defiance, Illinois

From the exact same spot, looking toward the bridge over the Ohio R

This place had a map with push pins to indicate where you are from. I was NOT the first person from Vancouver, WA to visit this random BBQ joint in Mayfield, KY