Right now I'm sitting at the Love's truck stop, about 40 miles from Louisville, drinking McDonald's coffee. My legs have decided to rebel for the time being, which means I probably won't get there until tomorrow. Oh well. One lives and learns. And by the way, McDonald's coffee has never been this refreshing, ever. I feel like that's a justifiable plug: "Drink McDonald's coffee after more than 60 miles on a bicycle. It's refreshing."
Yesterday at about 7:30am, I started my bike trip from Winchester KY to Louisville. I actually got to Lexington in record time, but the fact that I had an appointment for which I had to wait over an hour to begin meant a lot of wandering around town. I ate a tin of sardines in the little smoking space off to the side of Meijer, which is where I parked my bike because it had a roof and the weather had spontaneously decided to be wet for five minutes.
I waited for Half Price Books to open so I could shamelessly be a cheapskate, drinking a cup of their free coffee while looking through the clearance section, where I found and bought a copy of Anna Karenina for a dollar. I figure that, if I read one chapter a day, it should last me about thirty years. The coffee was a different story.
And then I just set out, I suppose. It took me a little while to get on track, given that Google Maps literally had me biking in a huge circle, then for some reason adding a bunch of other unnecessary directions, which I weeded out at a Hardee's on Winchester Road.
After that, things were considerably smoother. I rode the 12-mile length of the Legacy Trail, which runs from Northern Lexington up to Georgetown. The fact that it's mostly isolated from motor traffic made it thoroughly enjoyable. On top of that, about halfway through I caught sight of a man unloading his bike from his car. We exchanged a friendly wave, and I rode on. Several minutes later, he passed me up, and we exchanged another wave and a smile. Then, as I approached the end of the trail, he passed me again, riding the other way. We both broke into laughter. It's fascinating, the fleeting experiences you can have with people that you literally will never meet again. We didn't exchange so much as a word.
Iron Works Pike was pleasant. One memorable experience from that: at the end of Iron Works, I noticed a Baptist Church with a pavilion just off to the side, and I pulled in to have a bit of a sit-down and some food, and read a little. Just after I had finished packing up, as I was walking out of the pavilion, a flash thunderstorm started. I immediately ducked back into the pavilion, thankful that I hadn't left one minute earlier, and wrote and read a bit more, waiting the storm out. What can I say? Even Baptist churches can be helpful sometimes. But then, after the storm had ended, I stepped out into the surrounding grass and immediately found myself ankle-deep in water. Thanks, Jesus.
The last ten miles were a bit of a blur, as I just wanted to get to my friend's house. Once I got there, he welcomed me in, fed me quite a bit (he, being a cyclist himself, knew what I was doing), showed me the shower, helped plan the rest of my route, and then I went to bed.
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