I took a long weekend and rode out from Springfield, Mo down in the Ozarks, 210 miles total with a 13mph average. Hey, they have some hills there, especially carrying 40 pounds of camping gear. I even had to walk a few of them, first time in years I've done that!

I got to Springfield about 3pm Friday, and after a quick stop at Bass Pro for a small compass (what a weird place that is!) I parked at a local bike shop and hit the road. I went about 25 miles to a Conservation Area, one of Missouri's best kept secrets. These are public lands (here in Kansas we don't know what that means, of course) where primitive camping is allowed. They're all over the state and so make for great stops on this kind of bike ride. Had an excellent camp even though it rained off and on all night - I was able to get the tent set up before it hit and kind of enjoyed sitting in the tent eating and then reading. I had brought Somerset Maugham's The Razor's Edge to read, it was the perfect novel for the weekend. Rain quit before I broke camp and got back on the road Sat morn, but I did sleep in a bit (7:30).

Being directionally and navigationally challenged, Sat was an interesting day, to say the least. Photos will show I rode through some really cool places. But I spent way too much time on gravel to start the day, especially since my plan "D" (already past Plan "B" and "C") had me routed up to a town where the road I had been on before I diverted to 3 miles of rough gravel came out - ie if I had stayed on that great blacktop it would have taken me right to where I was going. Uh oh, the makings of a death march! But Marshfield did have a great cafe where the owner bought my breakfast, she does that for all cycle tourists. She was kind of disappointed I wasn't one of those cross-country guys, but we had a nice visit and the pumpkin-walnut pancakes were great!

Back on the road, looking at the map, working on Plan "E". Ok, if I take just a short stretch of gravel I will cut off miles and make up some time. Uh, Jack, which way should this road be going? Standing at a gravel crossroad realizing back the way I came was the way I should be going, I stopped a rancher and showed him the map, which he promptly said was "old". Back there back at the stream crossing, if I had kept to the left I'd of hit the hiway in less than a mile. Here I'm about 2 miles of rough gravel from this other hiway, but that's the best way. Grumble. Past lunch. Burnt the cakes already back on those hills. Here we go. Got to the hiway, started making time again (5 mph on gravel, 17 on pavement). Next crossroads, decision time again. Plan "F" or "G"? Nope, plan "Psss" - rear flat. Got the tube replaced and pumped back up, ready to go but the bike didn't roll. What the? Look down and the bead had come off the rim. No damage other than time and energy to re-do the whole thing. Back rolling again, still no lunch and way behind. And now running low on water. Looking at the drainage creeks to pump water out of, when I decide to stop at this next farmhouse. Turns out its a local pool hall set up in a pole barn. Pop machine and drinking water! Shades of Dan's ride! Hooray for Coke! Roll out of the parking lot and decide to check my tires, pull another slender wire out of the tread. Eeek, no leak. But the tire is a little soft from hand pumping, decide to leave it as is. Having decided on Plan "G": not gonna make it Mtn Grove, I work my way down the road, stuffing Cliff bars rather than stopping to make a sandwich. Once I had made some time and realized I might make it to my next camp by dark I did do a quick PB&AppleButter on Pita, Jack's touring food of choice. The map shows Hiway C as a twisty and hilly thing, but I had no idea. The sun going down, road going up down and around, I flag a pickup to bum a ride. They take me to the next crossroad, saving me 12 miles and kept me clear of the most dangerous road around. I about lost my cookies riding in the back of the pickup as they sped rollercoaster style down the road. The next road wasn't bad, I just had to walk 2 of the hills. 38 going down, 3 going up. Its about 5 pm and getting late, but I don't think I saw a single vehicle in those 10 miles. Got to the next conservation area before dark, had to hunt around a bit for water but turns out this whole hillside was leaking water, little rivulets all along it, what they call Glade Tops out here. Had a grand view of the setting sun and crystal clear stargazing night, entertained by the sound of the beagles that were out hunting, and more Somerset Maugham to spend the evening with. That was close to 85 miles that day.

Sunday, Plan "what was I thinking?" started to kick in and I decided to not go south into more hills, but instead go ahead and head back and save a day of pain. That still gave me a good 70 mile day Sun, and left me with just 35 to finish Monday before my 5 hour drive back home. I could have stayed out till Tuesday but that would have hurt too much, and I was just about getting full of hills for a year.

Sunday's ride was a really good one. No pancakes but I covered the hilly first 25 miles pretty solidly. Ok, I might survive this. Remember that nonsense about weakness leaving body and what doesn't kill us makes us stronger?, I don't know that I was stronger but kept the bike moving. Some beautiful roads, a great long hill up to the flats at the top west of Ava, and then a nice downhill back to this perfect streamside road for about 8 miles. Ok, back uphill but now close to a real campground. Get there and there's dirtbikes and 4 wheelers crawling all over the place. Its a Nat'l Forest with an off road course, they'd had 300 campers this weekend. Luckily this was Sun so most were leaving, but it did take till evening till the last of them left. Couple of kids kept roaring around the campground on their bikes past my camp, looking way cool. But once they left it was perfectly quiet and deluxe accommodations - a picnic table, can you believe it? Owls hooting through the night, stars a plenty on my numerous nighttime "outings" - I think I got hydrated ok.

Monday great roads, more rolling hills rather than 38 to 3mph kinds of hills, though a couple of "crank away in 1st gear grannie and weave across the road to get up it" suckers. A decent pancake and egg at a little diner in some small town, sat and read more Somerset. One of those perfect moments - in the novel he's describing this great scene where the main character helps this woman and her daughter, she's recovering from tuberculosis, this is post WWI in France, he takes them to this idyllic village, just a beautiful scene. And I'm sitting there immersed in this picture with the glow from endorphins and coffee and pancakes and thinking I really like bicycle touring, never mind the pain or discomfort.

And so I pedaled the last few miles back to Springfield, planning where to go next trip. I'm thinking Mo again, the camping areas are so nice and well placed, but I think I'll skip the Ozarks for a while. Up north where we used to live is called the Green Hills region, nothing as steep as the Ozarks, lots of rollers, maybe that'll keep me occupied. I love the hills.