Monday, June 25, 2012


With my first ride under my belt, I packed up and headed to Kentucky, land of the blue grass, tobacco and horses. Being a Girl Scout in my younger years, I was taught the importance of planning ahead and being prepared, (these days that gets labeled as being 'controlling') As such, I decided to go find the start point for tomorrow's prepared!   I learned from the Natchez ride that just finding the start point can be a real challenge. To my surprise and irritation, none of the routes I got from  give the start addresses!  The authors assume that those using these maps, with labels like the 'Chaney 44' or the 'DMST Moonville', know from where the ride begins!  Ha!  They don't know me, evidently!

After driving around the country roads, somewhere in the outback of Kentucky, I finally found the start of tomorrow's ride.  I guess I should confess now, that I stalked some cyclists that were riding the area and  I didn't actually find it 'on my own',  How lucky I was that they showed up just when I needed directions!  .....Fate

I thought I'd put on my cycling clothes and get a few miles in since there were 3 or 4 hours of daylight left. Tomorrow promised to be another sweltering day, and I wanted to lessen the miles I would ride in that heat. I gathered my gear, and headed to the nearby dairy store to change, walking over to the riders first, introducing myself.  It didn't take much to get the conversation going, and as the remaining riders rolled in one by one, Joe, the owner of a local Tri-store, introduced them to me.  Lively dialogue ensued as the sun dropped lower and lower.  An attractive, fit woman rode in and approached the car I was leaning against; when she took her helmet off and turned around, out of my mouth came,

"Kim K******t?"
"Yes, who are you?"
"I'm Sue Hersman....used to be Coughlin.  You coached Diana and Jenny in swimming at Culver!" (Diana and Jenny are two of my daughters)

Blankness remained on her face, but watching it as the connection dawned on her was like watching the sun rise. She beamed, was flabbergasted and teary.  The world is a small place, indeed....there are no coincidences.....Fate.

After spending the night at the Red Rood, where you 'sleep cheap',  I was on the road by 6:30 am pedaling my way through the corn.  The good thing about being up that early, temperature aside, is that there is absolutely no traffic on the road.  I think I even beat the farmers up.  It was a joy to watch the sunrise and the countryside  awaken.
Long shadows of an early morning ride
 Corn on the right, corn on the left, corn everywhere I looked.  With it towering above me, I felt a bit like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  The only thing lacking was the Strawman and the Flying Monkeys.  I did wonder what was leaving the strange marks on the pavement; perhaps I was in the land of Oz.
Strange markings on the street pavement.  Hmmmm...
That mystery was soon solved when the tranquility of the morning was broken by a rhythmic clompity-clomp, clompity-clomp.

I was sitting in the shade of a tree at that moment, enjoying the peacefulness and a snack when that sound filtered through the countryside.  Clompity-clomp, clompity-clomp.  Looking down the road, in the far distance, was a horse and wagon; I was in Amish country!!  I pulled out my camera  and waited.  The wagon drew closer, and it's occupants became visible. Starring out were four little white faces and a very sour face of a woman/child.  They stared at me and I at them.  I must have been a sight for them in my tight spandex.....  They clompity-clomped past me, five faces turning to watch me like sunflowers following the sun. Not wanting to be intrusive, I waited until they were down the road a bit before I took a picture.  They were hauling freshly picked corn.
Amish woman and children hauling corn.
As I watched them fade down the road amidst the fields of shorn wheat, it occurred to me that those strange marks in the road were from the horseshoes and as my tires rolled over theses tracks, I wondered about the life of that young mother, thinking her grandmother was probably my age.  It occurred to me that just the fate of DNA landed me in my current life...

Corn, corn, corn

A drought is causing poor crop output

Concerns for brushfires due to dry fields

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