Katy trail 2012

5/4/12 Mike L. and I got an early start driving towards Clinton, Mo. The 670 mile drive would take awhile so we wanted to allow enough time to get there without having the highway patrol collecting revenue for their Christmas fund. The terrain from Denver and across Kansas changed from the brown flat of Colorado to the green flat of western Kansas. When we got about half way across Kansas the rolling hills started to appear. The humidity was observed, since we were used to Denver, the driest city in the whole USA. After 11 hours of driving we arrived in Clinton, Mo. The start of the 250 mile Katy trail starts right here or ends here, according to which way your bike is headed. A very nice trail head with a detailed map showed what lay before us. A group of college kids had ridden to Sedalia and back, a 76 miler in 90 degree heat and 90 degree humidity, and they looked like it. Their shirtless backs shined from the sweat that was pouring out of their pores. They tried to convince us and themselves that they had biked close to a hunderd miles, but it only seemed to be that far. They did give us some valuable info on free camping behind the community center.

We checked out the camping spots and then checked out the restaurant scene. An Italian restaurant in the downtown square filled us up with homemade pasta and bread. This would be our last kitchen cooked meal for a few days, so we tried to make it last, by almost sweeping the floors and pulling up the chairs on the tables.

We drove back to the community center and noticed dew had already formed on the grass. We set up our tents and noticed fire flies lighting up the dark skies. Mike had never seen them so it was quite a treat. A lone car pulled into the large lot and the driver just sat in his car, with the dome lights on. I was wondering if we where going to wake up dead from this potential axe murderer.

I did wake up to a wet tent drapped across my body, the heavy dew had weighted down the tent and I felt like I was held between two wet sheets. I had brought a bigger tent and set it up around midnight, with much relief.

5/5/12 Next morning we loaded up our bikes and parked the truck with our canoes on top. May 12 would be the next time we would hopefully see the vehicle. We rode our bikes to the trailhead and our camp companion was sitting in his Cadillac. He had a Rosy Crested Cockatoo and a small lap dog with him. He seemed to be homeless, but going in style with the Caddy as a shelter. I think it was Will Rogers who said America is the only society that went to the
poor house in a Cadillac.

We had 36 miles to bike today and the humidity was a tad high, with dew dripping off our biking helmets. A cold front was supposed to bring relief to the area in the form of a major thunder boomer, forcasted for tonight.Every town that used to be part of the Katy trail way had a shelter for bike riders and in most cases a tiolet with some running water. Some of the towns were located just a few miles away and others as far as 15 miles apart. Sedalia, our stop for the night used to be a major stop for the train that connected Oklahomha, Texas and Kansas. The path leading to our town was hard packed limestone and what a sweet trail it was. In some cases it was better than riding on a black top service road. Large fields of newly planted crops lined the path on both sides. Sometimes a thick forest came down to the trail which was a welcome relief from the sun. Lots of critters either scampered or slithered across our path. Packs or groups of turtles found the trail very appealing for a morning sunning.

Within a hour we biked into the town of Calhoun, that as suppouse to have a cafe named the Whistle Stop. I found the barn wood covered building decorated with a faded sign reading Whistle Stop. We rode through town and found a small gas station that sold snacks and drinks. I asked inside about the Whistle Stop and a fella that lived there hppened to be in the store. His sister owned the Whistle Stop but got tired of chasing her tenants for her rent money. Her brother also needed a place to lay his had so he made the restaurant into a apartment. The women behind the cash register told me that she had plans on biking the Katy, "if I could find my bike that was purchased 10 years ago!" she said. At lunch time we rode by a sign reading Dairy Queen, attached to a arrow pointng right towards the town of Windsor. We found the ice cream stand that was being manned by Mr. Wilson. His family bought this store 65 years ago and had lived in the house that was connected to the store front. Mr. Wilson when he retired a few yeas ago moved into the bussiness and house. By 3:00 pm we biked into the town of Sedalia, and after asking directions we found our campsite at the state fair grounds. I imagined a small fair ground with some out building,WRONG these people take their county fairs very serious. This complex was the size of a small country with 500 acres of buildings and camping for 1,500 campers. When we arrived a black smithing convention was going on so there weren't that many people. We found our little place of heaven for the night under some big oak trees as cover from the rain that was forecast. We found the showers with both temps of water that could wash off a few pounds of trail dust, and cool down our bodies.

A fellow camper told us a guard would come by for the dinero sometime tonight. In the meantime Mike and I rode our bikes to a local grocery store for a little fresh fruit. After dinner we rode all around the buildings. These structures where built to last, with red brick covers and metal roofs. Signs on the front of the buildings identified the type of product inside. And along with the building was another structure that sold the product inside the building. The dairy building had a giant ice cream building beside it. The open swine building was so big that I rode my bike up and down the concrete pathways. It had a pork restaurant on the outside of it. A well manicured garden represented a lot of the flowers and trees native to Missouri.

The more I rode the more I noticed the evening skies getting darker with lightning flashes in the distance. A guard came by to pick up $10.00 for the camping and to tell us that a tornado warning had been declared in Kansas City. If the tornado did arrive he said to head to the brick bathrooms and hold onto a toilet. It reminded me of a joke. A women gets stuck on her tiolet seat and her husband can't get her off. "You better call the firemen to help get me off this seat!" says the woman. "But first hand me that cowboy hat to put on my lap!" she says. The firemen came rushing in and the the captain of the squad looks the situation over. As he is scratching his head he says " I see no problem saving you but the cowboys a goner!"

The storm seemed to be pretty far off until a lighnting bolt hit the trees next to a parked RV. Mike and I didn't spare any time running to the brick toilets. After a half hour of heavy rain the show was over and our guard came back and said we had missed the twister. We walked back to our tents and settled in for the night of storm after storm with lots of lightning.

5/6/12 The next morning brought cloudy skies but no humidity. YIPEEE We rode our bikes to the Sedalia refurbished train station. The original station was built in the 1890's and the state of Missouri had put millions of dollars into the building. Somebody sure knew what they were doing when it was decided to fix up the station. We had a self guided tour from basement on up. In the Victorian times train stations had male and female waiting rooms, since us men are a bit rough around the edges, not me now! One room had the history of the Katy train way with hunderds of rail connecting all the bordering states which was a major employer until trucking came in.

Outside the building was a restroom and we noticed a fellow biker sitting against a wall. Miss Chicago as I called her had gotten a ride to Clinton from Chicago and was on a collision course with the Katy Trail. She hadn't trained
enough for the mileage and her gear was heavy. She also was a tad bit over weigh but had lost 30 pounds trying to get in shape for the pounding of the trail. She had stopped last night in the swine building at the state fairground
because she had taken so much time biking in from Clinton that it was dark and raining when she arrived. I can't imagine sleeping there as the building could be used to make a slasher movie. She told us about how hard it was to get time off her job for his bike ride. After pleading and begging her boss OK'd the week off. "You will probably end in a shallow grave with a long knife in you're chest!" was the boss's last wods.
We meet up with her again on the trail when we saw a couple having trouble with their bikes just outside of Sedalia.
The husband's front tire had a slash across it and the tube had come out and blown apart. He had taken a piece of velcro and strapped it across the outside of the tire. It would have lasted maybe 1 mile. We took the tire apart and used duct tabe and heavy cardboard inside the tire and put in a new tube. I suggested he bike back the 5 miles to Sedalia to a bike shop and get a new tire. "No I want to continue, it's only 30 miles to Boonville!" he said.
We left the couple and Miss Chicago and continued onto our new campsite at New Franklin, just across the Missouri River.

We stopped at a small town of Pilot Grove along the trail for a bit of refreshment and to dry out our tents from last night's storm. I started to walk across the street to a small grocery store but only ghosts shopped there now. We found this true along a lot of the trail. Small stores and restaurants were closed up from lack of business or ambition. I rode my bike up the street to one of the many friendly Casey gas stations with a convenience store. I had just locked my bike down when a fellow biker in a bright yellow shirt walked up to me. His hands were plenty busy with assorted junk food. "Are you going all the way to St Louis?" he asked. "It seems like you don't have enough gear for that kind of trip." as he pointed out his bike. He must have had 100 pounds of gear and he wasn't a slim jim either. In the rear of his bike he had two panniers and two duffle bags on top of that. In the front he had two
front panniers and handle bar mounted camera and radio. It was already 2:30 pm and he was just getting started. I mentioned the camp ground at New Franklin was just ahead but the Texas Toothpick, as I called him, wanted to do 30 miles today, so we said goodbye as we crossed the bridge over the Missouri River. Like a lot of travelers I meet they have great ambitions wiyh little experience, his plan was to bike into Canada!

At Booneville there is a great train station turned into a visitor center. In the front window was a very clever
poster of a long haired woman riding a bike on the Katy trail with a a jug of whiskey under her arm. I liked the
poster so much the woman behind the desk gave me one and I mailed it home.

Mike and I rode into the New Franklin campsite and it was very clean with hot showers. We unloaded our gear and rode around town after dinner. Another Mike, a former teacher in the Cathlic church in Salina Kansas, was camped beside us and he had many questions about biking and camping. He had just retired and wanted to get into the great
outdoors. After asking him a few questions about the church in Salina Kansas, I found out that my cousin Cerial
Vogel, the local bishop had confimered his 2 sons, into the church
About 6:00 pm Miss Chicago came dragging into camp with her bike between her tail, it didn't look good. Every part of her body was in the rebellion stage, especcialy the part where the sun doesn't shine. She was already talking
about how she could cut her trip short, like right now. We tried to talk her into going for the next 30 miles but
we never saw Miss Chicago or Texas Toothpick again.

5/7/12 This campsite was especially great because the camp host never came by to collect the dinero for our camping. After finishing our breakfast of oatmeal we headed down the trail and it really is all down hill from here since we will be following the river to St Louis. Since Lewis and Clark used this Missouri river bottom as their trail of discovery, the Missouri department of whatever has erected hundreds of sign posts marking things that Lewis and Clark did along their way. it's great fun to stop and read about some of the events they overcame paddling up the river, yes boys and girls they paddled against the current, and this river really moves. Thousands of floating trees and tree limbs went sailing down the river as we biked beside the current.
Our first town along the Missouri was Rocheport, and what a beauty it was. We biked up into the main town and talked with a few locals and got a feel for the area. A tour bus pulled into the rebuilt train station and let off some folks to stretch their legs along this Katy Trail. More then a few of these older folks wish they where going with us on our little adventure. There seemed to be a lot more critters along this part of the trail, especially in the way of turtles and snakes. Lots of snapping turtles crawled up on the trail to soak in the sun rays, since the Missouri water was a bit chilly. These shelled creatures with one inch claws look like dinosaurs which I guess they are.

If we rode our bikes 10 miles farther today then it would mean we would have 10 miles less tommorrow, I didn't even take college math. I had planned on stopping at Copper's landing in Easley but why not go to Hartsburg, since we got hold of the fella that OK's the camping in the town square. At the Hartsburg crossing three bikes were leaning
against the fence when I pedaled in. A mother and her two kids where riding the Katy. They had started out with
one other rider but he gave up the ghost after 40 miles. Her husband, their support, had just gotten home from a 3
hour drive, when she called and told him to come back and pick up the tired bike rider. I had seen a Copperhead
snake on the trail and mentioned its' beautiful colors. "WAIT-WAIT I can beat that!" she said. "Yesterday we were
riding along when a Billy Goat came charging down the hillside and slammed into our trailer that carried our
gear!" she explained. "Then two days ago 2 Pit Bulls and three other dogs tried to stop us on the trail" she said.
All the time she was talking her tribe was stuffing Slim Jims into their mouths like they were going out of style.
She had stopped by Cosco and picked up a 50 gallon drum of Slim Jims, for the trip. The kids told me they always
stopped at stream crossings and counted turtles and this really excited them, rememeber there isn't any TV out here.
There was a real live restaurant and watering hole next to the trail, this was the first. Mike and I stopped by and
talked with the owner. the place was originally a winery but had gone belly up, the owner drank the profits, maybe.
We found out after filling our bellies with a few bags of chips that there wasn't much to do in this small town, but get back on our bikes and cruise the area. Much to our surprise we did find a wild life area and a couple of miles of back country bike trails. Our trail led us over hill and dale and finally to an over look of the Missouri river basin. it was well worth the extra pedalling with a view to die for.

When we got back to our campsite along side a town square gazebo we saw a couple of women hanging around our newest friend who owned the restaurant. Thinking it was Miss Chicago we walked over to give our praises, but it turned out to be a couple of woman from Colorado. They were with a small group of 5 and had been staying at a B & B along the trail. I found out one of their friends was with the Colorado Trail Assocaition from near my home town and I have hiked the 500 mile trail a couple of times, so we had a nice chat.

For a change of pace we decided to eat dinner at our watering hole, that being the only place in town. The owner and his mother-in-law were trying their best to drink up all the profits with a continuous supply of Bud Lite beers standing in front of them. After dinner we rode our bikes down to the Missouri river and discovered a large tree with a small black berry type fruit, that tasted good. We rode back to ask the bar keep what type of berries they were and the whole group was half gassed with empty bottles decorating the bar top. We did find out through their slurred speech our trees are Mulberry trees and they are good. In fact we noticed a fisherman by this tree over hanging the river and our bar keep said the cat fish also like the berries and will hang out under the trees
waiting for small fallen treats. By 9:00 pm we didn't see Miss Chicago nor Texas Toothpick so maybe they rode off into the sunset.

5/8/12 This morning we woke to clear skies and a trail that was very well maintained. Within a few miles we would be approaching the state capital of Missouri, Jefferson City. We had planned on stopping in this town anyway and
with me getting a flat tire just out side of town it made it a given. I knew my rear tire was worn and I was trying to strech a few more miles out of the rubber but it was so worn a small sharp object went through it a lot easier than if I had a heavy tread. At the trailhead we meet the group from Colorado. They had stayed in the capital in a soft cozy bed while we slept on the ground, but ours was free. The trail going into the city was very well marked and we had no trouble. The state of Missouri has poured mucho dinero into this whole trail system, I have never seen anything like it.
The ramps going up to the major highway bridge across the Missouri cost the city more than 6 million smackers.

We found out where the bike shop was and we also noticed the lack of cars on the road for any city of this size. Jefferson City only has 40,000 people compared to Denver's 3 million. We rode to the shop and was met by the most easy going bike shop owner. After buying a new tire and tube they told me to use their equipment yo install the tire. Then they pointed out a fab Greek Restaurant for lunch. After lunch we spent several hours touring the capital building with its' museums.
Then we were back to the trail and our next stop at Portland, but not in Oregon, this is a tad smaller like 20 people and 6 dogs. I rode into the first stop and a couple were lying on the bench trying to get enough strength to carry on. I asked them if they had seen a sign for Riverside RV? "Oh ya, just down the river a mile or so." says the biker. Then she turned her head as she lay on the bench and looked up the steep hill and she spied a small sign that said RV park. There was a small building like 6 foot by 6 foot and 3 picnic tables, but not a soul in sight. I rode my bike up to a bar and opened the door and was met with a cloud of cigarette smoke. I should have mentioned that there isn't a large tax on coffin nails here so why not smoke yourself silly with a pack of Camels. Every store, restaurant, bar and bathroom we went in smelled like smoke, maybe the same chain smoker is following us. Anyway I asked the bar keep and she said go down to the white house with the dogs. I rode down to the white house, there are only 6 houses in town and they are all white with dogs. I tried to walk up to the door only to find that half of the porch decking was rotten.
Small trees were growing between the spaces where boards should be. I heard someone inside yell out to come to the side door, that's the only safe one. I found out that I was at the wrong white house with dogs."You need to go to Dave's house to pay for the camping, but don't go through his yard his dogs are a crazy!" says the hill billy, as his dogs are trying everything to get out of their chains to taste a Yankee biker. I walked all the way around Dave's yard so I wouldn't become dinner for these canines and stopped at the gate and yelled for Dave. Then I noticed Dave's white truck in fornt of his garage and opened the door and layed on the horn which only excited the dog patrol even more. I was thinking he probably uses this to signal chow time. I finally quit and biked back to the campsite and then Mike showed up.

As we set up camp the fellow from the movie Deliverance showed up minus the banjo. He had all kinds
of questions for Mike as I tried to avoid eye contact. We found out Young Dave takes care of this RV park, not the old Dave, but they both have white houses. Mrs old Dave showed up driving a golf cart and explained all the rules, don't leave the shower room unlocked when you leave, don't squeal like a pig, that went out in the 90's. Then as soon as she left Deliverence boy showed back up and suggested we could us his camping equipment. "Come on up to the white house with the banjo music coming from it, if you need anything!" he said.

Just when we thought it was safe to leave our campsite our next crazy showed up. I remember him from the bar scene earlier, when he was laying waste to Bud Lites, like he owned stock in the company. "I use to work on this river, as a tug boat captain!" he said as he burbed. "I use to remember every tight river crossing and every loose woman all the way to St. Louie!" he boosted. "But too many beer and too many years have passed me by!" he said. "I use to lay on the deck of my boat and look up at the sky and think of one thing and I want you to think of one thing." he explained. "How big would one cubic square mile of water be, just think of it!" drunken crazy man said. I thought it was going to be world peace!

When it got dark Mike and I decided to walk up to the bar to see in person the breeding ground of these Missouri River loonies. A thick cloud of smoke from 20 cancer sticks filled our nostrils. Our ex river boat captain sat on the end bar stool with one hand on his beer and the other around the shoulder of his drinking body. I think they where holding each other up or maybe it was the thick smoke. Black and white pictures filled the walls and they showed the past history of this once vibrant river town. Now it was just a stopping place for bikers and beer soaked exriver men.

5/9/12 After leaving Portland and all is colorful citizens we where headed to a old German town of Hermann. In the 1800's thousands of German settlers flocked to this area. It remained them of the Rhine River valley of home. At one time there was hundred of wineries and this place was one of the top producers of vino in the world. That all stopped during Probition and didn't start back up until 1970's. Now everybody that grows a few grape vines has a winery. There are countless German festivals during the year. Hermann has 65 B&B just so every German that visits, can have a place to lay their head.

When the kind bike mechanic in Jefferson City tried to help by lifting my bike by the seat, he broke one of the supports on the bike seat, I know it wasn't my robust backside. So I found a bike shop to fix the seat and it was layed back just like the last one. The owner was laying on his bed in the back room when we walked into his store. Him and his dog live and breath at this store. There must of been 50 bikes all lined up in the store and there wass room for maybe 20. You couldn't swing a cat around without hitting a bike or a bike accessory. After fixing my bike we visited a large sausage making company that gave out free samples. The samples where in plastic bowls with sharp toothpicks beside them. I got real good at stabbing and filling up the whole length of that poor toothpick with sausage morsals. The sales lady must have experienced hungry bike riders before because we heard this low growl coming from the direction of the cash registor, and it was from the keys being punched. "I think we have sampled enough boys!" suggested the lady. Mike just moved over to the resident sausage maker that was showing off his craft of 5 different types of sausage. "Let me try that hickory,bacon combo one more time." said Mike. By the time we where both through sampling sausages all stocks had to be resupplies for the real customers. I did actually buy 5 packages of sausage for the price of 4, so maybe they came out even.

I also bought a sausage sandwich which I ate for lunch after we got back on the trail. Little did I know that I would need the extra protein. As I rode towards the town of Gore I heard a pack of dogs come charging down a hill side towards me. I was already pedaling fast and at the sound of the hounds I poured on the steam even more so. A grey pit bull came up on the left side and tried to bite my foot. A well placed kick in the teeth slowed him down and I continued pedaling fast. This canines partner tried to attack me on my right side but he made the mistake of trying to run in front of the bike and coming up on my right side. I was pushing down hard on the pedals and my front wheel was whirling just inches from his tight furry skin. I wanted run over the middle of him with a passion but finnally he turned and went back to his farm.

When I met up with Mike at Treloar he had a far different story to tell. He was just peddaling along enjoying the scenery when it seemed like his bike brakes suddenly came on. The two pit bulls had sunk their teeth into his rear bike packs and Mike turned around to see dust coming up from 8 dog feet digging into the dirt. Mike came to a complete stop and stepped off his bike the dogs charged but Mike held his ground and they turned for home after a few harrowing minutes on Mike's part.

We rode into Marthasville our last campsite. A large ball field meet us on our right and this would be our resting stop. We called the grounds keeper and he gave us directions to the grassy camping spot. That night kids of all ages came to the field to play ball and it was fun to watch. One women group stayed until 9:00 pm and they where very good at ball playing. We all took showers in the ball field building "just Mike and I" -get you're mind out of the gutter!!.

5/10/12 Last day on the Katy Trail for us and it will prove even better then before. Within minutes of biking out of Marthsville, we came to a sign pointing us to Daniel Boone's grave site. There isn't a baby boomer that hasn't grown up with Davie Crockett and Daniel Boone, so off we went. The scenery along this hard road was very pleasent with trees and green grass. The reason Mr. Boone settled here was because the Spainsh goverment gave him and his family thousands of acres, in order to get other familes to settle here. Then after the USA goverment purchased the land in the Lousaina purchase poor Dan had to fight to keep it from the feds. Within minutes I pulled up to a large red brick farm house set way back off the road and up above the road. I noticed a large white bearded fella stepping out of a truck and I rode my bike back to ask directions. I found out that we where near the grave but also his crew of 4 men where rebuilding one of Boone's relatives houses. A local fella had bought the property and was rebuilding a whole community with barns, school house and a 1700 log cabin all shipped down from Pennslvania. All the building where furnished with the period antiques. What a treat to be able to tour the buildings without anybody looking over our shoulders since Santa gave us permission have a look see. This job will take up to 10 years to finish but what they have done already is amazing. We also did find the grave site of Old Dan and we found out way he was buried here-HE'S DEAD- no actually they moved him and the Mrs many years ago to Kentucky they think or they might have moved the Boone's slaves bones by mistake.

As we got closer to St Charles we started to see lot more day bikers. The town of Defiance had everything a biker might want or thinks they need. I biked into St Charles a few minutes before Mike and rode my bike to a local gas station to ask directions to the Super 8 motel and a real bed. It felt funny to be on a real road with a real surface. But we found the motel and relaxed for a few minute that is until we wanted to use a library computer and then we where back on our bikes for another hour.

CONCLUSION The Katy Trail and the Missouri State park system is the greatest and I will be back. Mike and I spent $20.00 each for camping for the 6 days and we had hot showers for all but 2. The history of the Lewis and Clark along the trail combined with the friendly country folk, like I said I'll be back.