Cycling Across America #25
Part 25 of the Cycle-Across-America series relayed day by day, exactly ten years after it happened. (Read from the start in Boston)
Ten years ago today I was about to cycle from Georgia into Alabama:
Monday, 26 August 6.40 am, Tallapoosa.
Found out last night that Tallapoosa is the Cherokee word for Golden River. Seemingly there was a lot of gold here and in the 1830’s the place blossomed with goldmines, and with 3,000 inhabitants was a major city on the Georgia Pacific railway which ran from New York City down to the south.
It’s 1,200 feet above sea level and typically according to a New York Scientific Newspaper, doesn’t go above 92 degrees F. Tomorrow’s forecast is 85 - 87 degrees and muggy with a strong threat of afternoon thunderstorms. North of Atlanta last night they tracked 3,000 strikes of lightning. This threat will continue for the full five day forecast.
This is basically a one street town and last night the traffic was crazy. All the young people (white - it’s redneck country) just drive up and down constantly, sometimes parking up in a bit of space - maybe a gas station car park or Hardees car park - and driving off again in convoy to a few hundred yards away. They drive fast and show off too so crossing the road in the dark can take you time whereas at five and six o’clock yesterday evening there was no traffic.
I’ve been watching live pictures from Atlanta of the traffic. Huge amounts on the I-75/85 and Spaghetti junction particularly busy. This is before seven in the morning and they say it’s indicative of the kids being back at school.
The Olympic flame was finally extinguished last night at the closing ceremony of the Para-olympics. I’d forgotten it was closing day when I cycled through yesterday. I even cycled along some of the marathon route - marked by a blue line on the streets.
Looking at the map I still don’t know where to go today. Further than Gadsden to make life easier but I can’t see anywhere. Maybe I should think on the road.
Later…Very foggy so wore the reflective west given to me by the Virginia police. If I don’t wear it I always have it wrapped around my bags.
Four miles to the state line along Route 78 - I was glad there was twelve inches of a shoulder. Alabama was my thirteenth state. After another two miles the turn off north for county road 49 (Cleburne County) was there so I went into a large grotty-looking shop for breakfast.
This was a big change from my two established routines. Mostly I set off on an empty stomach and eat after fifteen miles, and then eat again after forty eight miles. Or the usual alternative is actually to have a breakfast before I head off and go for twenty to twenty five miles before I eat.
In this shop everyone who came in was a crazy character. I was in real hick country and indeed was concerned about safely getting through what I perceived as white redneck racist Alabama and Mississippi. There was so little traffic I could’ve stayed on 78 but what did come came very fast and I reckoned it would only last for another so many miles - long before I got into Anniston.
Two bananas, an Apple Ugly, a Banana Cream, a can of Mountain Dew, and water for the road - I was heading into the Talladega National Forest and wasn’t sure what’d be available in there.
It was beautiful. Certainly I had a lot of climbing to do - the most so far in the whole trip - but I was able for it. It was so thickly populated with trees and bushes that I had no idea how high I climbed. Plus it twisted and turned and roller-coasted up and down constantly. The colours in there were beautiful.
Saw a raptor eating some roadkill. The noise from the insects and the birds was quite something. The fog cleared and the sun just brought all the vegetation to life. Frequently I had views through the trees of a nearby mountain. All mountains were completely covered in trees. There was no tree line.
There was about three small communities in the twenty five miles or so I spent in there. They were mostly wooden cabins - not painted, and pretty - in very well kept large garden areas. I was surprised that I instantly liked Alabama so much.
Came across a couple of confusing junctions that simply weren’t on the map. Would spend a few minutes carefully considering the junction, the map, and the sun, before making my decision. I always made the right one.
I stopped at a couple of lovely lone wodden stores for cold drinks. I drank a litre of ice tea outside sitting on the new wooden porch chatting with the bloke who had served me and his friend. They told me there was a lot of crazy drivers in these parts.
-That’s why I got a mirror, I said, When I see a car coming waving the crazy flag I just get off the road.
They said they got a lot of drivers who don’t have any flags.This was White’s Gap road and despite looking like I would have to climb straight up a couple of small tree’ed mountains I had only gone up a couple of hundred feet - if even - and was now coasting downhill for a couple of miles.
The lads told me it was downhill all the way until I came to the highway (21). They also told me that this road was used a lot by racing cyclists for training for the Olympics. Then they warned me of the damage that hurricanes can do. They were watching ‘Edouard’ which is just approaching the Caribbean islands and may then hit the U.S. Last year one did a lot of damage in this area even though it was so far inland.
A busy highway with a gravel shoulder was a nuisance but only for a couple of miles then I found my road to Alexandria. This stopped me going right into Jacksonville. Small but horribly busy.
Stopped for drink at a garage store and saw they did food. Forty five miles to date so I ate. Macaroni Cheese (two portions) with deep fried in bread crumbs - okra. Add a couple of cokes.
The mountains were now long gone as were the trees mostly. There were fields with cattle and bales of hay. Rolling hills and lots of housing. Nice houses in well kept gardens.
The road to Ohatchee was heavily trucked and I used my mirror a lot. I was forced off the road a couple of times but that was by cars that wouldn’t move over. There was no shoulder on Route 144.
Back into trees again but no more mountains. Saw a monument to a Creek Indian battle - nothing to look at - just a stone with some writing on it. I remembered that Tallapoosa was where the Creek used to meet with the Cherokee and the Choctaw to trade, or make war.
When I reached Route 77 (Alabama) I lost most of the trucks. Crossed the H. Neely Henry Dam which was not very high but good fun nonetheless.
At Ragland I was only a dozen miles from my intended destination of Ashville on the I-59. A police officer was stopped and escorting young school children across the road. He told me there was no lodging in Ashville and the nearest was Pell City on the I-20. That was south and bad news. I hadn’t advanced far enough and was now putting Birmingham in the way.
Went past the National Cement Company - probably the most ugly thing I’ve seen in this country. More importantly it meant a large number of dumpsters. I was forced off the road a few times.
Crossed over the I-20 on a county road where a few rednecks had screeched their pick-up brakes to not hit me, and straight here to the only place in town, the Ramada Limited - their economy chain.
Fantastically deep bath and some shampoo to boot. Waffle House next door for dinner. Two big waffles, two eggs, a plate (large) of hash browns covered in chilli, three cokes and four cups of tea. Country music on the jukebox - I liked it all so much.
Read the Next Entry in My Bicycle Trip Across America
Read from the beginning of the Cycle Across America
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