Day 13. 825 Miles. Let’s get ready to rumble… strip!

If you read that wrong, keep your clothes on. This isn’t a naked boxing match.My first big breakfast of the ride comes at the behest of my most generous host Charlie. We hit Cathy’s Kitchen Cupboard again and I’m the only man not wearing a hat. After eggs and bacon and grits, I fill up on water and head north, without any set destination. If I stay on course, I’ll be 70 miles toward a town called Bardstown, with no campground or hotel anywhere nearby – so I’ll be crashing behind the nearest fire station or library I can find as the sun sets. Charlie tells me it’s bible study night and an Episcopalian church would be most likely to let me camp – but avoid the Baptists.

As I penetrate the Bluegrass State, I wonder if it’s a coincidence that this is the only state in the union whose initials are a brand of personal lubricant. Also, Arrested Development never made a song called Kentucky. But I sure wish they they had.

Heading up 31E, I notice a trend that would continue the entire day: the same 2 foot shoulder I had in Tennessee is still there, but it now has 18 inches of rumble strip smack dab in the middle of it. What a stupid thing to do! Why not put the strip on the actual stripe?! Who’s the head of the KYDOT and why did this person’s mom get knocked up by her own brother? Fantastic, I guess I’m taking the lane on this winding truck route. I’m greeted by an all out nonstop pounding of Dollar General semi trucks. Come to find out I’m passing one of their major warehouses. Fun wow — the hills and headwind alone just weren’t enough. A sign I pass asks, “if you died today, where would you spend eternity?” Sensing cheap religious overtones, I send a quick prayer up to the holy spirit of Rick James, “please don’t let it be Kentucky”! New Zealand would be nice though, especially since I wouldn’t have to worry about the high cost of living – because I’d be dead.

It’s one of those cool and cloudy days and I’m literally in the middle of nowhere USA. Seriously the hangout spots are Marathon gas stations and – you guessed it – Dollar Generals. Then suddenly, I realized I must have somehow teleported because I’m just 5 miles from Buffalo……Buffalo Kentucky. What the hell? There’s no sign of any beautiful river or American bison here. Space and time are still making us all their fuck toy. I decide to keep pushing. If I can get to Bardstown, they have cheap motel rooms, and knocking out another century ride would would make a room worth paying for. So I do it. And it hurts. And I arrive and come to find out Bardstown is the Bourbon capital of the world. No bourbon for me this trip but I did eat a truly gourmet dinner.

About tonycaferro

Entrepreneur, Citizen, Marketeer, Fire Fighter / EMT, Bicycle-Tourist, Booking Agent, Youth Mentor, Activist, Agitator, Coffee Addict, Foodie, Social Media Nerd, Amateur Film Critic, Son, Brother, Uncle & Rust Belt Representative. Follow me on Twitter @dtr45
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2 Responses to Day 13. 825 Miles. Let’s get ready to rumble… strip!

  1. deuceellis says:

    Ride strong amigo

  2. Maisha says:

    I can’t believe I just figured out what you’re doing on day 12… Smdh. This is delightful, and so are you! Ride well, my friend!

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