Clarksville to Washington

Click the map for route details

The threat of thunderstorms and rain was ever-present today. The clouds seemed to want to rain even during the night; a few drops would come down timidly as they do before a storm breaks loose, but it never did rain until the evening in Washington.

I left my hard-partying friends behind early in the morning and went in search of breakfast towards downtown Clarksville. Clarksville, one thousand miles away from the Headwaters, is home to Lock and Dam No. 24, one of the last installation that enables the navigation of the Upper Mississippi (from St. Louis to Minneapolis) with fifteen barges tied together. Like many other river towns, Clarksville makes a half-hearted attempt at attracting tourists with its historic downtown district and even a chair lift up to an overlook (that once was Indian holy ground, but since they had been driven from the land anyway, why bother with their idiosyncrasies). The trouble is, "historic" all too often means old and abandoned; even the chair lift was well out of service.

Some businesses remain, however, and I had breakfast at the Corner Cafe, a nice little cafe with a good and inexpensive breakfast that was frequented by the locals, which is always a good sign. I am not sure that I have ever had biscuits and gravy before, but these were the "Best in the Midwest," so I had to try. I cannot say that I much care for them, but they do fill you up nicely. Tastes like something the British would eat.

Missouri
The Show-Me State. It envelops you, it keeps you warm. Its vegetation is all around you, roads can barely hold it back. Its air is moist and hot, you can almost slice it with a knife. Its animals appear exotic to a northerner, as do its residents. It is riddled with contrasts between the extremes of rich and poor, happiness and despair, joy and anger. You can see it on the faces of the people passing. Some are glad to wave, some look on in disgust, all expressing their curiosity at a bikefaring stranger in their own ways. Those who are not quite sure what to think about a man dressed in spandex usually opt for a defensively hostile position, but warm up when engaged. The young are more skeptical than the old, a matter of perspective. Groups are more skeptical than individuals, peer pressure.

I did not take many pictures today, the weather was dark and tomorrow will provide similar scenery. No reason to present the state in anything but its most favorable weather. In any case, photographing Missouri will be difficult, the warm embrace that one feels here all but impossible to capture with the little camera that I have. But I will try, so stay tuned for pictures tomorrow.

Washington
After only 80 miles, which took almost six hours over the rolling terrain, I came to Washington, just south of the great Missouri River, that in my opinion should be the Mississippi because that would make it the longest river in the world. I am not sure why this is not the case, but I'm sure there is either a scientific or, more probably, a political reason for it. Maybe several.

Preparing to cross the Missouri

If this was the Mississippi, it would be the longest river in the world

Washington, a town with a distinctly German flavor

Washington's Missouri Riverfront

The bad weather that had been following me around all day finally caught up with me as I was sitting in a very pleasant coffee shop, MannWell's Coffee Alley. There I got to hang out with Karen Elliott, of broadway fame, who was itching to return to New York after a brief break from performing. I was also interviewed by a reporter from the local newspaper. That's right, the newspaper. I am finally hitting the bigtimes.

Time to stay put

Eighty miles was slightly less than what I hoped to accomplish today, but the alternative would have been to go 120 miles, and I would not have been able to do so before nightfall after waiting out the worst of the storm, so I stayed at the coffee shop for a little while longer, then headed back the way I came to find a motel in which to spend the night. I opted for the American Inn, owned by Indians, of course, also known as foreigners, in local parlance. It was not the nicest motel I have ever visited, but it was dry, and after the power that had gone out during the storm in that part of town was restored, it was livable, and I got to take a shower and sleep in a real bed.

Tomorrow will be a long day as there are not many towns where I am going now and I have to make up for the short day today. I will post again when I can, probably the day after tomorrow from Cape Girardeau.

Road Kill Tally
I am on fairly quiet roads now, and not too many animals get killed there, purely because of a lack of traffic, I would say. I am expecting turtles to start moving up the ranks, and it is only a matter of time that armadillos should make an appearance.

1. Racoon: 75
2. Opossum: 23
3. Skunk: 18
4. Frog: 15
5. Deer: 14
6. Cat: 14
7. Groundhog: 13
8. Squirrel: 10
9. Mouse: 7
10. Bunnywabbit: 7
11. Snake: 6
12. Turtle: 5
13. Fox: 3
14. Mole: 2
15. Dog: 2
16. Porcupine: 1
17. Chipmunk: 1

• Bird: 81