Cycling Across America #33
Part 33 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 listening to Country music on television in the middle of Arkansas as I was talking to a tape recorder:
I’m watching a community bulletin board. Lots of text. Very boring. And on the bag I got my stamps in for my postcards: Collect US commemoratives - they’re fun, they’re history, they’re American.Made my way to the bicycle shop in Sherwood, owned by the son of a couple who were staying at the B&B back at Helena. A Waffle House for breakfast while I waited for it to open. The mechanic turned up after nine. It was like being in a sweet shop for me as I looked at all the bike stuff I wasn’t buying.
I watched as he did what he had to do to replace the spoke. It’s not really difficult; the tools are the issue when it’s on that side at the back. He gave the back hub a complete going over, and changed the cones for me.
Took 365 road north. Crossed over 40 and saw the Arkansas river – it meanders quite a lot. Railway track on the left hand side and the Interstate on the right hand side, though it was a good distance away. Through Mayflower and up past Lake Conway.
Waited until 30 miles down and ate at Conway. Turned back on myself for food. To the interstate. A Burger King for a Whopper. Seemed like my first for ages. Ages probably means three days.
There was a ton of little insects you can barely see today - they’re just little black dots - and you have to squeeze them to get them off you. I got lots of little bites.
Not much to see today. Outskirts of big urban area. So houses without communities. Trees around houses. Nothing too interesting. Pulaski County into Faulkner county which is where Conway is, and then into Conway County which is not where Conway is.Big shoulder, perfect smooth road. Some drizzle in Conway – sheltered briefly. I flew at nineteen miles per hour and I was worried I was going so fast but I couldn’t stop myself. Even when the road changed to rough and bumpy I went down to fifteen mph – which is still very fast for me, but it went up again as the road surface improved.
I’m at a cheap motel in Russellville. Two beds. One to cover with stuff – maps etc. and one to sleep in. Sometimes I fall asleep on the one with all my junk on
Saw a few Catholic churches today and the last couple of says. They were the first for ages. Usually I see Baptist and Lutheran. Listening to the news, there’s been a load of reports on five Catholic Churches which were burned in Arkansas.
At times today was idyllic, with a Western feel. Out in to the open and there was big fields of crops with the odd red bank topped with bushes. Fields of grass. Hedgerows. Very homely. I got my first glimpses of the Ozarks and presumably the Ouachitas on the other side. On the bike, alone for so long, you talk a lot to yourself. A lot of mind games. I told ya not to touch that, now Ouachita fya. That’s the sort of thing I come out with on the bike looking at signs.
Went though a little village, Menifee – C’est Meniffee, Oui, c’est tres menifee. I was giddy giddy. I sang and sang. I sang Paint your Wagon albeit with the words Paint Your Bicycle. Got a dream boy got a song. I’m a Man you Don’t Meet Every Day. A bunch of Furey’s stuff. The Green Fields of France covers an awful distance if you’re going fast. The Auld Triangle I was roaring out, and some people were waving.
The way waves work here is the same as everywhere else – it’s men, men that wave at you. Young girls if there’s a few of them in a car, if they’re going to do anything at all will wave frantically and beep frantically. Older women will ignore you. And Elderly women will try and kill you.
Young men will just whiz past you impressively in a sports car or a pick-up. And every other kind of man is a candidate for waving. I did get plenty of waves from little kids in gardens.
Overall though they don’t wave so much here in Arkansas – not as much as in Mississippi and Alabama, but when they do it’s a bit more properly. Ok sometimes it’s still with a finger and pointing, but in other states it was the deftest little lift of a finger off the steering wheel.
They drive differently here also. They rest both arms firmly across each other on the steering wheel. In Alabama they would lie back, one hand on the steering wheel and the other lobbed out the window as lazy as could be. Flopped all the way out. Couldn’t look lazier. Quite impressive. I saw one with his leg out of the window.
Passed a few towns. Atkins. Plumerville, Morrilton. Big elevators along the railway in these towns again. Riceland again.
Went to a Western Sizzlin’ here but as I arrived they put the lights out. I was late. Dawdling, forgetting I arrived late after getting the bike fixed. I did 78 miles for the day. The average must be below 80 at this stage.
I saw a feature on Rheas – like ostriches. Originally people were keeping them for the meat but it didn’t take off so now they’re pets.
The news reported a man from Missouri on a motorbike killed in collision with deer bring a total killed so far of 283 in Arkansas this year to date. Also a feature on a train they’re getting rid of - one of last passenger trains in Arkansas, a shame.
I passed a church somewhere where the name of the pastor is Ernest Sweat. To be fair it was Ernest L Sweat III.
Hats are appearing now. More and more cowboy hats you see them in cars. It’s not the ‘hey how are ya doing’ so much anymore that started back in North Carolina – its one of two things. They say ‘How are you today’ very specific and you have to answer exactly how you are. You can’t say how are you back. So I’d say, Ah I’m grand, and they’d look at me funny. Or the other thing they say is a straightforward ‘Howdy.’
It was cold today and it had me worried about Utah and Wyoming. I don’t want to cycle in the cold. Don’t want to buy new clothes.
Dogs. It’s certainly a couple of weeks since I’ve tried to outrun a dog – I just talk and sing to them now. I was going very fast today for thirty-five miles. Heard him bark and I looked. Only 20 feet away but between me and him there was twelve feet of two-foot high grass, then bushes. He was in his garden; an Alsatian, German Shepherd.
Didn’t know what to do so I didn’t speed up or slow down, kind of hoping he wouldn’t make it through. He burst through the bush growling and barking ferociously, and then rushed through the grass. His teeth were gnarling inches from my calf – I couldn’t go faster, and slowing down would give him my leg.
In the end I think he got confused. It all happened again a couple of miles up the road but much more shocking this time as there was just this noise as this dog burst out through the grass. So I jammed on the brakes, put my arm out and said ‘shush you stupid dog’. And it worked.
Read the Next Entry (#34) in my Bicycle Trip Across America
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