Kentucky... Ferry Good

Day 59

Cave In Rock, IL to Owensboro, KY

Distance: 97 miles

TITS: 10h27mins (Bravissimo)

Flies Taken into Hotel Room: many, but none that are still alive…

I slept well last night.

I guess unburdening my woes in yesterday’s blog must have helped. As, I think, did sleeping in a cabin next to the Ohio River. There is something about being near to water that I find instantly calming, and last night it eventually lulled me off into a gentle slumber.

Waking this morning, I threw back the curtains expecting to see a beautiful bright morning from the balcony, and toying with the idea of making a coffee and sitting out for a few minutes to see if I could spot the Bald Eagles that the people I had spoken to in the café the day before had mentioned to me.

It was a great idea. Except for the fact that the river was shrouded in a thick fog. I could barely see the grass in front of the balcony, let alone the river.

I was pretty sure I could still hear boats though, and so I just carried out with my usual morning routine hoping that, by the time I would need to get on the ferry across the river, the fog would have lifted.

Stopping at the café in town, I snaffled down a Hungry Woman Breakfast (which would not have filled me up if I was really hungry) and chuckled at a movie review in yesterday’s paper.

Given my focus in yesterday’s blog on the differences between negative and positive thinking, I was tickled to see the local newspaper in Illinois reviewing the latest Idris Elba movie, “No Good Deed”, which came out this weekend in the US.

‘”No Good Deeds’” is no good’, read the headline. Well, first I laughed at its directness, and then I laughed at the fact the movie is called “No Good Deed” not “No Good Deeds” (although the article calls it the latter throughout). And then at the absolute, unequivocal slating that it went on to mete out. I had read some other crits, which said something damning and yet still kind, like “the actors did the best they could with a dreadful script”. Not this review.

It concluded, “Skip this movie. Stay home and save your money. Read a book or actually do your homework assignments on time for once. Be productive by not seeing this movie.”

Anyhow, I schlepped out of the café and onto the ferry in pretty good spirits. A nice guy in a pick-up on the ferry took a photo of me and Steed, which was nice (he had KY plates!)

And on the other side, I was into Kentucky.

Today and for the next few days, I will be slightly off-piste when it comes to the TransAm route. I found that there was a Bourbon Festival on at a place called Bardstown, KY this coming weekend. 

Wild horses would not usually keep me away from such an event. But unfortunately, a lack of accommodation would. And there was nothing available at all for several days either side of the weekend.

So, here I am. Wending my merry way on an alternative route and ,I have to say, loving it. It was another long ride, with a few killer hills, but it was generally quiet, away from the traffic, beautiful and friendly.

I went back to my habit of waving to passing cars and trucks, and today, in Kentucky, I was getting waves back. The ones that made me laugh the most were when pick-ups overtook me into the sunlight. Through the back windscreen, I could see the silhouette of the guy driving and then next to him on the front seat, the shape of his dog’s head sitting there quietly beside him. And as I waved, the driver’s arm would go up. I kept waiting for the dogs to wave a paw in the air too, but…. And of course, there were a few pick-ups where there was so much mud on the back windscreen that you couldn’t see through at all, and that made me smile too.

The route had a number of small towns on it today too, so I was spoiled for choice with gas stations and the like for pit-stops. Mid-afternoon when I stopped for a bottle of water and to use the restroom, a farmer who had stopped there in his tractor insisted on buying my water for me… so sweet.

And then, as I was nearing the end of the ride, weaving my way through the corn fields during harvest, I was taken by the sight of the corn drying on racks, and even a “corn truck” pulling away from the fields.

Perhaps as a consequence of the corn fields and the late finish, I managed to collect a number of tiny flies… again, and bring them into my hotel room in my hair, clothes, cycle helmet etc. I suspect poor old Steed had a few illegal stowaways attached to him as well.

Scratching manically, and chasing around the room with some rolled up paper, I managed to neutralize most them... and leave a few nasty marks on walls and mirrors.

And then I walked out to a BBQ restaurant near the hotel for dinner. If I had to do an “Illinois review” on it I guess I’d say… “Save your money and stay in your hotel room swatting flies instead.”

Me x