June 10 Update

Benedict Kansas Store

I rolled into Ash Grove, Mo. on June 7th, after a long but very nice ride. Ash Grove is another tiny town with a two block main street that has seen more prosperous times. I was expecting to camp in the city park, but a lady named Milissa, working at City Hall, invited me in, took my picture, had me sign the Trans-Am lot book, explained to me how to find the park and gave me a key to the hostel in the park.

The hostel was a pleasant surprise. It has a nice shower, cots, towels, kitchen, and air conditioning. I met an east bound rider there, named Jim Bogeyman. We had dinner together and had a good conversation about touring and our mutual distaste for President Trump. We both got up early the next morning, went out for breakfast, and headed off in opposite directions, me looking at easier days ahead and Jim facing the hills of Misery.

On the 8th, I made it into Kansas and spent the night in a Patel Motel. I ate dinner a Applebees across the street and then went next door to the Wal-Mart for supplies (One of those bike seat cushions for my sore butt, Ice Cream, and beer.).

Benedict Kansas

Here's where my ride got a bit interesting. On the 9th, I rode about 75 miles and ended up in a really tiny community named Benedict, Kansas. The map said there was store there and I could camp behind the store or the church. The store was an old country store, probably built in the 20s, filled with all kinds of junk and an odd assortment of supplies. Looking at it from outside, I wasn't , at first, even sure it was in business. I go inside to be greeted by "Pastor Joe" who gave me an Ice Cream bar, something to drink, and started in on his life story. He invited me over to his house for dinner and a place to sleep, and a chance to hear about 150 years of adventures and misadventures crammed into his 76 years of life. This sounded better than sleeping on the ground and eating Beanie-Weinies, so I followed him home to his hovel.

Now, don't get me wrong, he was a really nice person, and I absolutely appreciate the dinner and a place to stay, but it was a strange experience.

The house really was a wreck, the roof leaked and some of the ceiling tiles were falling down. His wife had been dead for a number of years, and housekeeping had suffered. He had two small dogs running in and out, and a big hound tied out back. There were religion books and tracts everywhere.

He did fix a nice supper and we ate off real plates with a tablecloth and cloth napkins. He took a long time to eat because he had to continue his life story and to warn me of the perils we American are facing, all the while punctuating his remarks with Chapter and Verse and biblical names as commonly spoken and in Hebrew. You see, at some point after he found God, he also discovered he had Jewish roots, so he approached things in a sort of Jew for Jesus manner. About half way through dinner, there was a knock on the door, and a younger man named Wayne came in. He was a big guy about 40 years old and a bit high strung as in perhaps dangerously bat shit crazy. But nice enough otherwise.

I learned some things that I was not even remotely aware of, for instance, did you know that the Russians and Chinese have nuclear subs stationed off the East and West coasts and 30000 tanks propositioned in Mexico and 30000 more in Canada, and they are preparing to launch the missiles, destroy the coastal city's and invade the mid west.

I've seen a few unflattering comments about Pastor Joe in other bike rider blogs, but I really appreciate what he does. It seems that he who has the least often gives the most.

I have to stop now, the Library in Eureka, Kansas is about to close, I'll try to edit and finish this post later, but I feel it's important to go ahead and get this message out.

June,6 update

I'm in the library in Hartsville Mo. I just rolled into town about 10 minutes ago.There's not much here, a small main street with half the stores vacant, no cafe open a night, and a choice between camping on the courthouse lawn or going down to a park, about 2 miles away and sleeping next to the lake. I choose the lake and bought some convenience store food for the night.

So, I'm in the library in Hartsville, and this guy walks in and strikes up a conversation with me. He asks the usual questions, where to, how long, where from, etc., then asks me if I'm carrying a gun. I replied that I'm harmless and hope to be unharmed. He then launched himself into a diatribe warning me that Obama was letting Muslim terrorists into the country and it was not safe to travel about unarmed. I had, so far, not run into any terrorists, and frankly, that eventuality had not until then entered my mind. He, in fact was the scariest thing I encountered on my entire trip. While this conversation was going on, the librarian, sitting behind this patriotic American, repeatedly rolled her eyes, and after he left, she apologized profusely  for his behavior.

Free lunch

Downtown Ellington

Add caption

Ellington Hostel

River at Allen Springs

Roadside Artist

Sunday I rode from Farmington to Ellington Mo., A hilly but unremarkable ride with one exception. Along about lunch, I rode into a little community that had a very small restaurant. I ordered a couple of cheeseburgers, a coke, and fries, and while waiting, struck up a conversation with a couple of locals either coming or going fishing. Again they asked me the usual questions, but apparently had not heard about the terrorist threat in rural Missouri. My food came and I ate in a booth across the room. They got up waved goodbye and left. When I got up to pay, I discovered they had bought my lunch.

 The Ellington hostel was rustic but it had a shower and cots. I was tired and fell asleep early, about 9:00. I set the alarm for five intending to get an early start, but it was raining at five so I went back to sleep and didn't wake up till 8:00. Eleven hours sleep is quite a lot for me, I must have been tired.

Anyway the late start caused me a lot of pain. It got hot quickly and I had the most brutal day of riding of my entire trip. I dropped down a steep 2 mile hill to  Allen Springs ( about 30 miles of riding) around one o'clock. I hit 45 miles an hour on the hill and never pedaled a bit. Looking forward to the climb up the opposite side of the river,  I was so hot and tired I laid down on a bench at a canoe rental place and slept for two hours. Fortunately when I woke up the sun was lower and after the one more bad hill, the terrain eased up for the last 20 miles.

I spent the night in a small community center motel in Summerville, Mo. and dreaded getting back on the bike today.

My ride today was simply glorious. Beautiful scenery, rolling hills, cool and low humidity. I ate lunch in a small country store in Ben Davis, Mo. Talked to the owner, a very sweet girl named Rebecca, married with 5 children. I could have stayed there and talked to her all day, but I had to hit the road for the last 20 miles.

I think I'm out of the worst of the hills now, and I'll soon be in Kansas. You will need to keep clicking the start button to see a view I had today outside of Ben Davis.

June 3rd update

I left Carbondale on Friday morning after having some repairs to my bike on Thursday. I'm riding alone now that Malcolm and Ian went on ahead in Carbondale. I will miss them, but it's nice to ride at my on pace.

Soon after going through Murphysboro, I entered the Mississippi levee area. The terrain was flat and flooded with no services from Murphysboro to Chester except for a post office. The fields were slowly drying out after the spring floods, but a lot of them looked like calm shallow lakes with corn growing right down to the waterline and houses sitting on little islands with driveways barely above water connecting them to the road. I actually had to ride through one section of road that was flooded but only about four inches deep.

Part of the ride was atop the levees where I had a really good view of the land between the levers and the bluffs way off in the distance. At one point there was a gigantic coal loading operation where they unloaded freight cars and conveyed the coal over to the river to be loaded on barges. I could see a long distance from the levee but the line of coal cars stretched completely out of sight. All the cars were connected and there was a locomotive on a separate short track that would work back and forth grabbing the next car from the side and pulling the entire train of cars forward one car lengthy at a time.  Then a big machine would grab the car and rotate it sideways 180 degrees to dump the coal. The coal was then conveyed to coal mountain where a huge machine on a long arm with rotating buckets dig the coal and load it on to a conveyor to the barges. I know this is a long boring explanation, but I was really fascinated by the whole operation. On down the road, just outside Chester, there was an operation where they were loading coal from barges to trucks. Fear, not fascination, was the operative word here. A huge coal truck passed by me every minute for the last five miles of my ride. Nothing makes my butt pucker up like a tractor trailer roaring past me when I'm doing 5 mph and it is doing sixty.

I stayed at the Eagles lodge in Chester last night. I guess that's the equivalent of a Moose lodge or a VFW. They have a hostel there for riders with shower and bunks, or you can pitch a tent. I opted to pitch a tent in the volleyball pavilion. It was covered so I just pitched it without the rainfly. Fortunately it was not volleyball league night.

At the Eagles lodge a had several good conversations with the locals, but my best encounter was with the lady Barbour who had her shop in a converted railway car that she and here husband had made to look like a caboose. It was very well done, inside and out, with one antique Barbour's chair and no customers while I was there. I spent about an hour and a half talking to her. I think I got most of her life story. Her name was Sandy, she'd been a Barbour there for about 25 years, slightly younger than me and on her second marriage. I got the impression that she was slightly suspicious of strangers, but she sure opened up to me. Who knew I could be so charming.

Today I left Chester at daylight and crossed the Mississippi on the old steel bridge below the city. I had been dreading Missouri, because of the hills and poverty (I guess I should not have watched Winters Bone)  a few nights ago. ). The hills were rough once I got out of the flood plain, but the terrain was really beautiful. I guess I should vary my superlatives a little more, but I can't think of a better one to describe the landscape. The land was dotted with Upland farms and pastures with low mountains off in the distance. After every climb I was rewarded with an amazing Vista for my effort.

Here's a video of me going down a big hill in Missiouri, filming with one hand on the I-phone. Listen carefully and you will hear me grunt when I hit a big bump near the bottom.

I rode into Farmington around Eleven o'clock this morning and I'm staying at Al's hostel which is an old jail converted into a bike hostel. It is super nice with bunks, shower, tv, internet, linens, and ac. By biking standards it is a palace. It's supposed to be the best volunteer lodging on the entire trip. The ACA supported group is staying here as well, and they have invited me to dinner.Life is good. There was a big "farming days" festival going on in Farmington that afternoon. I caught up on my beer, junk food, and country music.

Flooded fields

 Farm surrounded by water

Barbour shop in Chester

About to cross the Mississippi

My only companion

Lunch on a Missouri hillside

Chester, home of Popeye

June, 1 update Carbondale

It's a bit of a sad day for me, I had to let Malcolm and Ian go on without me. They wanted to do 90 miles today, and continue to do 70 or so each day, and it's just too much for me. They are both on a tight schedule and need to finish before August 1. They are both very nice guys and I will miss their company, but I also look forward to setting my on pace.

So, today I arrived in Carbondale about 9:00 am and waited in a coffee shop for the bike shop to open at ten. Unfortunately, I sat there until about 10:15 and when I got into the shop there were about 6 guys from the ACA supported tour ahead of me for repairs. The owner said he would call me when my bike was ready, so I went back to the coffee shop and say down with three of the supported riders to talk shop about our trip.

As is often the case with me, it didn't take long to get into a political discussion with one of the fellows. He described himself as conservative libertarian leaning, but I found him to be very reasonable and knowledgeable. I spent a very pleasant hour or so talking to him, and hope to see all of these guys again in the ride.
If I get my bike back in time, I'm going on to Murphysboro tonight and on to Chester tomorrow and perhaps across the Mississippi. Carbondale is the largest city I've been through since Lexington, Va., It has a population of about 26000 with a thriving uptown. Mainly, it's a nice place to take a break.

I spent the night in a motel, and walked to a fairly close by restaurant where I had a good dinner and a few beers. Talked to Kendall Balsitis, the cute bar keep there, a cool girl about 50 years younger than me. We became Facebook friends so that she could keep up with my trip. We still keep up with each other.

May 31 Update

I have not posted since staying in Buckhorn so here's an update.
I left Buckhorn and climbed in the cold and damp for several hours until I started to descend into more open country as I approached Booneville, Ky. I still had a good deal of climbing to do in the days' 66 miles of riding. Outside of Berea, I had a tough climb up a heavily traveled two lane road to Big Hill, Ky. The shoulder was only about 18 inches wide and I had to share it with a foot wide rumble strip. The road became four lane before I got into Berea, and I found out why Big Hill deserved it's name. I dove down this big sweeping curved hill at up to forty miles an hour as cars whizzed by at twice my speed.

I made it to Berea Ky. On the 27th and camped behind the Fire Station there. Also camping there was another T-A rider, Ian from Victoria, Canada. He's 55, quite fit, and had done a good bit of touring. We started out together the next morning. He is a lot stronger than me on his bike so I sat in and drafted whenever I could.
Ian is doing most of his own cooking, so I stopped in Harrodsburg, Ky. for lunch. I don't usually take food pictures, but this meatloaf sandwich was as good as it looks. I hope Ian enjoyed his beanie weenies. I was not sure if I would see Ian again, but I caught up with him in a couple of hours. We camped that night under a picnic shelter in a city park in Springfield, Ky.

The next morning we headed out for Whitemills, Ky., about 70 miles away. At the Whitemills Volunteer fire department, we caught up with my buddy, Malcolm, who had taken the Mammoth Cave detour to spend the night with his dad, who had driven up from Florida to see him. A volunteer fireman brought over a six-pack of beer and offered us the use of his car. We did not use the car, but the beer hit the spot.

I spotted this field full of Roosters along the way. We stopped and talked to the owner, who said he had about 300 fighting roosters, which he sales all over the world for cock fighting.

So now, Malcolm, Ian, and I have been riding together for three days, averaging a little over 70 miles a day. It's been great having company, but they are wearing me out. I can stay with them on all but the steepest hills where they usually out climb me. And there are some steep hills. Some of them I can only climb at 3 mph, and I can walk up them at 2.5 mph. I find its better to let them slip away and catch up with them when I'm over the top.

The next night we stayed in a fire station in Utica, Ky. The convenience  store down the road sold pizza and mutton burgers, I had both. Last night we stayed in a Methodist Church in Marion, Ky. It is a large church, and very pretty inside, but, a dwindling congregation, I think. Tonight, after a very hilly day we are in a Methodist church in Goreville, Ill.

Tomorrow we head for Chester, Ill. On the Mississippi river, which we will cross on Friday morning. (I have to stop and think what day it is, I'm looseing track.

We've been getting up about 5:30 to be in on the road by 6:30. We usually stop at a country store around 8:30 to eat breakfast, and again around noon for lunch. Malcolm and Ian tend to cook more than me, I'd rather just buy something.

The scenery has been very nice, but I have not taken many pictures the last few days. We crossed the Ohio river on a small ferry this morning about 8:00. Entered Ill. At a place called Cave In Rock. We've not been too keen on going out of our way to see notable landmarks, our line is we can see them on YouTube.

 O

Ohio River ferry

Malcolm and Ian at White Mills fire station

Me at White Mills

May 24 update

Today I'm stuck in a McDonalds, waiting to check into a  motel to get out of the rain. Actually, the sun just came out, but I can't check in until 4:00. I only got 26 miles in before the rain began today. I may be stuck in Hazard for a day or two, they are calling for a good bit of rain, and riding all day in the rain is not as much fun as you might think. Below is an update I wrote yesterday and can now copy into my blog. I'll try to include a few pictures as well.

May 23 update

After I left Elk Garden, I discovered that my seat post was loose and letting my seat gradually get lower. The change was so gradual that I did not realize that it had dropped about and inch, and was probably at least partially contributing to the sore on my butt. I tried to tighten the clamp that holds the seat post in place, and managed to break off one of the bolts. I stopped in a hardware store in Honaker, Ky. and was able to find the bolt I needed, but still needed to remove the old bolt. The store owner pulled a new vice out of it's box and pulled down a hacksaw off the rack, and I was able to saw a slot in the end of the broken bolt where it stuck out of the clamp. Then I removed the bolt with a screwdriver. I then realized that the clamp was bottoming out before clamping the seat post tightly enough, so I bought a canned Pepsi, drank it, pulled out my swiss army knife and cut a thin strip of Pepsi can out and wrapped it around my seat post. I bolted it tight, and now as I write this update, two years later, I'm still riding my bike with my improvised shim.

I rode my last day in Virginia and spent the night at Breaks Interstate Park on the Virginia/Kentucky border. it's a beautiful park of about 4000 acres with a motel, restaurant (unfortunately not open for the season yet),campground,pool,lake and stables.I had a nice conversation with the camp host, a local fellow who retired from coal mining. He told me that he worked in a mine under the mountain we were sitting on that extended more than 9000 feet from the entrance. That would not be for me.
Today I spent my first day riding in Kentucky. Unlike Virginia, the valleys (hollars) are narrow, but the theme is the same, up a creek till it runs out, climb up a ridiculous grade to a gap, fly down the other side and repeat. I got five of those in today. Also, unlike Virginia, eastern Kentucky is poor. Lots of ramshackle houses and trailers and tiny towns with most of the stores falling in and abandoned. They do have a very efficient garbage disposal system though. They simply put it out by the "crick" and the next big rain disposes of it. There are wonderful rivers all through this area that are littered with trash.
I had read about the dogs in Kentucky chasing riders, but I only had one encounter today. Just as I started up a steep hill a pretty good sized black Shepard looking dog with one blue eye came snarling out at me. I knew I couldn't out run him so I got off my bike and prepared to defend myself. I've got a can of Halt dog spray, but I decided to go with the oak stick under my bike frame. As soon as I pulled it out he decided to go on back home. There's no shortage of dogs, but most of them are tied to trees in the front yard. The residents here seem to prefer a big mongrel mix instead of the ubiquitous pit bulls I've grown to love.

From Breaks Intrastate Park I had a 66 mile day to Hindman through a series of tiny and poor communities including Elkhorn City, Ashcamp, Hellier, Lookout, Vergie, Melvin, Bypro, Bevinsville, Dema, Pippi Passes, Mallie, and finally, Hindman. I spent most of the long day in the rain.
I got into Hindman wet and cold and expecting to stay at this hostel sponsored by the Hindman historical society. The phone number was on the ACA map and there were several signs along the way. I called and only got a nice voicemail saying they were away from the office, so I made my way to the hostel. I had to push my bike up this steep driveway about a quarter mile to a house that looked barely inhabited. No one answered when I called out, although the door was open and a radio was playing. The place struck me as some kind of bizarre Hansel and Gretel theme park. I hustled on down the hill and went in search for a place to spend the night. Hindman has a bit of an arts thing going on, and the first place I stopped was at a luthier workshop. I explained my situation, and the luthier gave me a name and number to call. I called and talked to Randy who was out for a hike, but said he would swing by and show me how to get to his house where I could spend the night. Apparently Randy does this on a regular basis. In any case, that's were I am tonight, in the dry with my cloths washed and dried, and a bed to sleep in. Karma is definitely going to require that I start doing more for other people.

Randy fixed me breakfast this morning and sent me on my way. He's a big nature buff, and was headed out to collect mushrooms with his dog, Jack. As it seems with a lot of people in the mountains, he's into music, plays guitar and banjo. His son is a jazz guitarist and is studying in Greensboro. Randy was a bit of a odd duck, but only in a good way. I hope the same can be said for me.

I've been very careful about brooching the subject of politics, because I know where the sentiment of most people up this way lie, but I have found a few

Typical scenery in western Va.

 My office for the day

No one around to take my picture

enlightened souls. The ones I have talked to have been very cautious about who they are around and how loudly they speak.

It's been fun talking to people along the way, they are generally interested in where I'm from, and where I'm going. Some seem quite envious.

May 22 Update

Hostel in Troutdale

View from hostel

Elk Garden Hostel and church

It's 1:00 on Monday in Haysi, Va. I'm at the public library taking a break. I had lunch a little convenience store in Sandlick. It turns out that a lot of these little stores have small kitchens where they make takeout food. They are generally way better than a McDonald's or a Hardee's. I drank two bottles of V-8 juice as well. My wife told me to eat healthy and eat plenty of vegetables. Two bottles equals 6 servings, so there you go Kathy. Actually I've been drinking a lot of V-8, and Maybe the best thing I've eaten all week was one of those huge loose kosher pickles from Kroger in Christianburg. I sweat so much I crave the salt in both these foods.

Here's what's been going on since my last post. I wrote these updates  when I didn't have internet, so now I'm copying them to the blog, or at least I'll try.

May 19, 2017
I'm writing this from the front porch of a bicycle/hiker hostel at the Troutdale Baptist Church. I only rode 37 miles today. I got here about 11:00 this morning, and decided I needed a good rest. Plus, I have two sores on my butt cheeks about the size of silver dollars. They are quite painful, I've had to wear double bike shorts for the last two days . I guess I will have to wait for callouses to form before they quit hurting. But enough scatalogical references, the real hurt is that my riding partner for the last 7 days went on without me. A nice young man, I'm going to miss the company. I probably will not see him again, he's stronger than me and has to finish by August 1st.

Here's what it's been like for the past few days. I'm writing on my tablet and I will copy my post when I find service. I mention this because I don't have my blog in front of me and I might repeat myself.  Anyway, the scenery has been beautiful. We've spent most of the last few days in the valley below The Blue Ridge Parkway, paralleling I-81. It's rolling country varying from lush open bright geen pastures to shaded roads running alongside rivers and streams. A typical stretch will follow a good sized stream along a wooded road, then, as the stream narrows the land opens up and the road rolls up and over ridges that run down to the stream. You follow this ever narrowing river, creek, brooke, trickle, until it finally peters  out and you finish with a sharp incline to the gap. We might spend an hour or more climbing up the valley, then spend 10 minutes going down the other side only to repeat the whole process again. The wild flowers and not so wild flowers in people's yards a really pretty right now. There is a constant display of Blackberry blossoms and wild geraniums with there lavender flowers standing up taller than the high grass gone to seed. The Black locust, sourwood, princess tree, and Catawba trees are in bloom as well. In fronts of houses along the way are large patches of Peonies, Irises, and roses in bloom. The gardens are tended and the potatoes are eighteen inches high.

I'm developing a good left side sunburn from traveling west everyday with the sun slightly to the south. I guess I'll need to turn around in Astoria and come back to even it out.

Today we left the valleys and climbed back into the mountains. After about 25 miles of ups and downs, it was all up through dense  shaded mountain forest, then a flaming downhill into Troutdale. Troutdale takes up about as much realestate as it does map space. There's the Troutdale Baptist church (newer one on the left and old frame one up on the hill to the right), a few houses, and an abandoned store, and, I'm told, a library and a post office. The library may be a misprint on the map. The Baptist church built this hostel for hikers and bikers. It has a bunkhouse with plywood bunks and showers in the back of the old church. They supply towels, and clean pillow cases for the pillows. There's a coffee pot with coffee, and a microwave. The portapotties are clean and there is running water outside. There are good people in the world! A couple of hikers drove up to stay at the hostel and begin hiking the next day, and later they drove off in search of a place to eat. They brought me a couple of cheeseburgers, when they returned, so no beanie weenies for me.

I also had a visitor from home today. My next door neighbor, Bill Meeker, went to Kentucky to pick up a new puppy, and he stopped by the hostel on his way home. It was great to see him.

Tomorrow I'll leave early with a fairly short 40 miles in front of me to a Church at Meadowview on the other side of Damascus. I'll probably eat lunch in Damascus, but it is trail days weekend there, so it will be very busy..
What's a travel blog without a description of the people you meet! Day before yesterday we met a mother and her 16 year old daughter from Texas doing the Trans-Am (henceforth the TA). We met a newlywed couple from England doing  the TA for their honeymoon. I met a broke and homeless 51 year old guy from West Virginia in the Wythville  park where we stayed last night. I try to help people like that when I can, so I gave him some money. When I started to walk uptown a little while later, he asked me to bring him some beer. I told him no, he would have to get it himself and drink it somewhere else. I didn't want to abuse the hospitality of the town letting us camp in the park. I don't think the less of him for wanting to spend his money for beer. Everybody wants a little pleasure in life, and when you are that hard up you take what you can get. One thing that has struck me in these tiny hamlets we have passed through is how beaten down the residents seem to be. Young and old, you see them get out of there cars, head down and grim faced, going into the one and only store in town for there morning coffee or cigarettes. This morning we were sitting in front of a place like this when this old man in a rusted out pickup truck drove up. He gave us the once-over reserved for bicyclists in spandex and neon yellow, crunched open the door, lifted his left leg out of the truck with the help of his arms, and said to us in the slowest, deepest drawl you've ever heard, " Bicycle,......I used to ride a bicycle..... Ten speed.... Ride it up to????? "(unintelligible). He shuffled on into the store with his untied clodhoppers and we continued to eat. Just as we were leaving, I had my back to him, but I heard him mention to Malcolm that he is 79 years old. And you wonder why I'm out here doing this!


May 21 update
I'm taking the day off. I got in to the Elk Garden Methodist Church yesterday about 4:30 in the afternoon. I had a pretty hard ride of about 56 miles, including one very tough climb of 1500 feet in three miles. The Elk Garden church is a beautiful brick church built in the 18 hundreds about 30 miles from Damascus. They have been hosting bicycle tourists for at least 20 years. When I arrived, there was a sign on the door welcoming me in and instructing me to make myself at home, take a shower, and help myself to the food in the well stocked kitchen.
I took a shower in the outside shower stall (cold water only), got a ginger ale out of the fridge and sat down to read. Some time later, a lady drove up and began unloading supplies for a breakfast for the newly graduated high school students of the church (2). Sarah (her name) and I moved tables around and put out decorations for the event. She graciously invited me to join them for breakfast, and I  of course accepted.
I got a good night's sleep on the church sanctuary floor. The floor was carpeted, and the room was quite and peaceful. This morning I rolled out of bed, put on my least objectionable attire, put my stuff away, made coffee and waited for the crowd to arrive. I love pot luck meals, way more good food than the crowd can possibly eat. They made sure I put aside a big plateful for later in the day.
The church service started at 10:00 (early so that the minister can get to his second church afterwards). I sat in the choir loft and sang with the other four choir members in attendance. We sang a couple of hymns I had never heard before, and of course there was no practice beforehand because of the breakfast, but I thought we sounded as good as could be expected. The preacher preached a very good sermon based on the concept of the holy spirit, then left us to finish up while he traveled to his next gig.
So now I'm alone in the church, reading and letting my sore butt heal, while I wait for the rain to move on and I can start out fresh and dry in the morning.
Here are a few random observations about my trip so far.
I have found the motorists to be generally more considerate in Virginia than back at home. With only a few exceptions, they have passed cautiously and waited patiently for the opportunity. Even the bane of all bike riders, pick-up trucks and muscle cars,  have shown unusual restraint. Maybe it's just because they are used to seeing bicycle tourists on the roads. In turn I have tried to be considerate of them by moving to the right when it's safe to do so, and often pulling over to stop and let them go by. I usually try to wave as they go by as well. One thing I would love to hear as a car approaches from behind is a gentle toot on the horn. When did the car horn became a tool to be used only to exhibit a drivers displeasure with someone else. Anyway, I hope my good experiences with drivers continues on into Kentucky and beyond.
We live in a sadly fearful society, and it's refreshing to have people like the members of this congregation open there doors to me and welcome me with no reservations. I know there are bad people out there and there can be dire consequences if you cross their path, but overall, statistically, the chances of a bad encounter are rare.

I wish I had learned to play the piano, this is the second church where there is one right here with me, and I can't play it. Maybe I'll take lessons when I get home, just what I need, another hobby.