Month: August 2017

We had a hard time leaving the Brown’s home, so great was our time there. After a hearty southern breakfast and great fellowship, we managed to get on our way by 9:00. Our destination would be Glendale, a 72 mile ride which ran north of Richmond and opened up onto many delightful views of open fields and country homes. Thankfully the rain we experienced yesterday had come to an end giving us a nice ride under scattered clouds and a cool breeze all day. 

Besides stopping for lunch we rode straight through to Glendale and arrived at Willis United Methodist Church at 3:30 PM. I could see on my map that Glendale was a very small town and that we weren’t going to be getting dinner there. So when we passed through Mechanicsville we made a stop at a gas station and I asked the lady if anybody delivered out to Glendale. She didn’t even know where it was (and she wasn’t the first person I’d asked that had no idea where Glendale was). However, she gave me a menu for a pizza place in a neighboring town and said she’d swear by their food and they’d probably deliver there. So we took the menu and headed on to the church. The church was a nice and clean place with a fridge, wifi, and shower. When we got settled I called the pizza place and asked if he would deliver to our address. “It’s a bit too far out of our delivery area.” “Oh really? That’s too bad. We’re cyclists going across the country and we’re staying the night at this address and we’re just trying to get some dinner.” “Well, I’ll do it this time. What do you want to order?” Thank you Lord. 

Before we settled down for the night I cleaned out my handlebar bag and organized my other panniers. It was surreal. I couldn’t get the smile off my face. I kept saying, “I can’t believe it boys! This is our last night on the road, our last night in a church. I can’t believe we’ll be in Yorktown tomorrow!” I couldn’t wait to go to bed. I couldn’t wait to wake up. 

Aug 31

My alarm went off at 5:45. I jumped out of bed and immediately started packing up my bedding. I was ready to go. I took a quick shower, grabbed some crackers and granola bars for breakfast, and loaded the bike. By the time the boys got ready we spent some time reading Scripture, giving thanks to God for His unending faithfulness, and asking Him for one more day on the trail. We left around 7:30 and you’d think we were in a race. We took off at a quick pace and set our hearts on Yorktown. It’d be a 62 mile ride but most of it would be on a bike path. 

The ride was super nice and we rode quietly by many battlefields and 17th c. plantations. Needless to say we didn’t take the time to stop and take in such sights, we had one thing in mind: the Yorktown Victory Monument, our journey’s end. The path went through Williamsburg and then ended 13 miles later in Yorktown. 

The plan was simple: 1) find the Amtrak station in Williamsburg–we were praying it was near the path; 2) buy our tickets for the Friday night train (the Amtrak website told me I couldn’t get on the Thursday night train with the bikes); 3) bike to Yorktown to cross the finish line! 4) spend the night at a really nice bike hostel in Yorktown; 5) bike back to Williamsburg sometime Friday afternoon to catch the train to Providence. 

We were biking through Williamsburg around 11:30 as I suddenly thought I’d better stop and find our where the Amtrak station is. I looked on my phone and it was less than 1/2 mile off the trail. Praise the Lord! We turned down a street in that direction and stopped at a cafe for lunch and a coffee. There were only 13 miles left for the day so we took our time and enjoyed a good rest there. 

After we were all done Rocky opted to hang out at the cafe while Forrest and I biked over to the station. The lady behind the counter was super nice. “How ya’ll doing?” “We’re doing well. In fact, we’re doing very well. We’ve biked all the way from Oregon and we’re nearly at the end of our journey now. Once we hit Yorktown we’ll be done,” I said with a smile assured of victory. “Wow! That’s really great! Congratulations. So how can I help you?” “I need to buy three tickets for Providence for tomorrow night’s train. I tried to get on tonight’s train but since there’s no baggage car I guess we’ll take tomorrow’s train.” “There’s a baggage car on tonight’s train. All our evening trains have a baggage car.” “Really!?” “Do you wanna get on tonight’s train? It leaves at 5:41.” “Absolutely! That’d get us home a day early! Wait. What time is it? 12:20. We’ve still got to bike to Yorktown, dip our tires into the Atlantic and then bike back. Okay, that’s enough time. Reserve the seats. Thank you. Goodbye!” 

We rushed out of there as quickly as we could. Forrest texted Rocky, “We’re leaving tonight. Get on your bike, get your helmet on, and get ready to go!” Rocky filed in as we rode by the cafe and got back onto the Colonial Parkway heading to Yorktown. The quick pace we had in the morning was nothing compared to the quick pace we had leaving Williamsburg. We were on a mission. I remember the very place when we rounded a corner and I could smell saltwater. “Do you smell it boys!? Do you smell the ocean? We’re almost there.” Forrest was in the lead at first but as we rode up one of the hills I determinedly rode on ahead of him. Besides the fact that I usually lead since I have the map and the GPS, I was itching to reach that monument as fast as I could pedal. I looked on my map and could see that it was at our end of the bridge that stretched across the York River. Boy was I excited when I saw that bridge! I never let it out of my sight. 

By 1:00 we’d reached the historic town of Yorktown and were racing through the streets past tourists and tour buses. As I followed the GPS we turned down this street and that. I kept looking up over the trees and buildings around me trying to catch the slightest glimpse of the monument. Suddenly, there it was. In the distance. I could see the tip of it. “There it is boys! Do you see it? There’s the monument!” I pedaled as fast as my tired legs could go and made a bee line over sidewalk and grass to reach it. And then, I was there; we were there. Standing in front of it with the very bikes that had carried us across the country, over hills and mountains, through valleys and deserts, across lands and rivers, through 10 states, from Astoria, OR on June 14 to Yorktown, VA on Aug 31. “We made it! We did it!” I gave the boys each a big sweaty hug and took the selfie we’d been waiting over 11 weeks to take. Hallelujah! What an amazing trip! 4228 miles. I can’t believe we actually did it. And I can’t believe it’s over. I’m not going to know what do if I don’t wake up in the morning and get on the bike…

Within a few minutes a car arrived and I asked them to take our picture. They were full of wows and congrats when I explained what we’d done and why we wanted our picture taken. It was wierd after we’d taken all the pictures we needed and were ready to go. I sorta felt badly leaving the monument. I felt like we shoulda stayed a while… and maybe we should’ve. But two things were pressing on us: 1) get to the water so we could dip our tires; 2) get back to Williamsburg so we could catch that train! 

The water was just below us and we were there in a moment. We quickly took off our shoes and panniers and each of us posed with the front tire of our bike in the water. The deed was done. One more picture to go. We asked a guy nearby to man the camera while we stood in the water and raised our bikes overhead gesturing our victorious conquest. I’m sure he and his friends thought we were wierd for the pictures we took and then for the picture I asked him to take. So as I lowered the bike back to the ground I said, “We’ve ridden these bikes all the way from OR, all the way from the Pacific Ocean and now we’ve reached the Atlantic. That’s why we needed these pictures.” “Really? Wow! That’s great! Congratulations!” Again, it was surreal. We were going through the expected motions and taking all the right pictures but do we really realize what just happened? We’re all smiles and all happy, but I don’t know if it’s even hit us yet just what we’ve done, that we’ve actually done it, and that we’re actually done. There’ll be no biking tomorrow. No map. No GPS. No spandex. No helmet. No gloves. No cycling shoes. Do we even realize that yet? 

Next stop: Williamsburg. I really didn’t want to bike the 13 miles back to it. We’d finished the TransAm and one rule of such a long tour is simple: never go backwards. And here we were going backwards! Plan A? Hitch a ride. Plan B? I didn’t have one. So I prayed hard for Plan A. “Lord send a pick-up.” We rode back up the hill to the Yorktown Revolutionary War Museum and Visitor Center and parked by the side of the road looking for an answer to prayer. Within 30 secs a truck came up the hill with an extended cab and an empty bed. Perfect! We waved him down. He stopped and rolled down the window. Dennis was a young senior in high school and a little apprehensive about giving us a lift. “Where’s Williamsburg? I don’t know where that is.” “Can I show you? It’s only 13 miles up the Parkway. Are you willing to give us a lift?” “Uh…” “I’ll show you where it is on my phone and I’ll give you $20 for gas.” “Well, okay. Thanks.” By the time he agreed to take us the boys already had the bikes loaded. Dennis relaxed as I kept a nice conversation going about odds and ends. He talked a good bit and within 20 mins we were being dropped off a block from the Amtrak station. Awesome! 

We had over three hours before the train left so we found a place on the side of the road where we could condense our panniers. We could carry two on board the train, but the rest would have to be checked at $20 a pop, on top of a $20 charge for each bike. We had 16 bags when we started and ended up with 14. Only two down. But hey, that’s $40. Once we had that all set, we grabbed a change of clothes and went to the bathroom in the cafe so we could change into something more comfortable for the long train ride home. Then we went next door to the ice cream shop and celebrated our victory with sugar. With full bellies we went back to the cafe and ordered sandwiches for dinner to take on the train. Only one thing left to do: buy the tickets and get in line! 

We rode around the corner to the Amtrak station. The lady I’d met earlier was off but Harry was working, just as she told me he would be. He was expecting 3 cyclists and there we were. I came up to the window with a big smile and shared with him what we’d done and where we were headed. He was amazed and congratulated us. In fact, he.was so happy for us and so happy to see us get home that he started pulling what punches he could to get us on the train as cheaply as possible. I probably shouldn’t tell you just how much money he saved us, but it was no small change. He told me I should write about our journey and I said, “I did! Check out our blog at labellesonwheels.com. I’ve kept a log all the way across the country.” I came back inside later and he’d already looked at it! He asked a few quiestions about our travels and said he wanted to keep in touch. I hope he does. He said he used to do a lot of cycling but never did any touring. Wouldn’t it be great if he traced our steps one day 🙂 

Oh! One little detail remains to be told. I haven’t yet told my wife that we’re on the train home. As far as she knows we’ll chilling in Yorktown for a day and catching tomorrow night’s train. I will tell her of course. If I don’t we’ll be biking from Providence to Cape Cod–and that ain’t happening. But how should I tell her? I thought of calling her and saying, “Hey babe! What are you doing at 6:45 tomorrow morning?” And I also thought of just publishing this post to the blog and waiting for her to see it. But will she see it soon enough? Well, with all the devices in my home someone’s bound to see it before bed time 🙂 

So here we are… on the train to Providence, RI. I should pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming. The boys are on their phones in the same row and I’m chillin in a row by myself. I think I need the quiet. The sun has set now but a few clouds still bear its orange hue. Soon we’ll go to sleep and we’ll wake up in RI. Will it feel like it was all an awesome dream? Maybe. Maybe not. But when the train stops and our bikes and panniers are being handed down out of the baggage car to us I’ll know that it really did happen, that we really did bike all the way across the county and that we really are going home now. 

I wish I could thank all the people who helped make this journey for me and my sons possible… I would thank all those who prayed for us everyday, holding us up to the Lord, asking Him for safety, strength, stamina, hydration, and good weather. I would thank all those who gave us food, water, and lodging, and those who let us use their laundry and shower. I would thank every pastor of all the many churches in which we slept along the way. I would thank every gas station attendant and home owner who let us fill up our water bottles. I would thank every driver who treated us kindly on the roads. I would thank those who opened their home to strangers, like those on warmshowers.org and those we simply met along the way who said, “You can stay at my house tonight.” I would thank those who gave us rides when we needed them. I would thank all the bike mechanics along the way who kept us on the road. I would thank those who gifted us money to help pay for this crazy adventure. I would thank all the many hundreds of Christians across the country who cheered our souls while tending in so many ways to our temporal needs… But how in the world can I thank so many whose names I never got or simply forgot? So many whose names I might remember but whom I have no way of contacting ever again? 

For the record, to all of you who helped us along the way in any way whatsoever and who just might be one of the many hundreds of subscribers to this blog, let me say: Thank you. From me, from Forrest, and from Rocky, thank you so much for being so important a part of so great a journey. We will always cherish our memories of you and of all that you did for us on the TransAmericanTrail and thank you for following us on this blog. May God bless you and return your kindness upon your own soul and body a hundredfold… And may all the praise and glory for this trip go entirely to Him alone to whom it belongs: our Lord and God, the Lord Jesus Christ, without whom this trip would have been impossible. 

God bless you one and all. 

I’ll close with a few great photos of our finish. 

Wesley dropped us off near Natural Bridge, VA. It was a quick ride on the interstate and it saved us a lot of hills, but it left us plenty to climb. In fact, you’re not going to believe it, but we set a new record for accumulated elevation gain in one day: 5610 ft! Our previous record was around 4700 in Missouri, but Monday took the cake. If Wesley had not driven us to Natural Bridge I believe we would’ve easily reached 6500 ft. 

Needless to say the 70 mile ride was tough. The hills were relentless both before and after the big climb out of Vesuvius up onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. The 4 mile climb up to the Parkway was so bad that one lady who wrote a book on cycling the TransAm said it was the longest climb at that steep a grade on the entire route! I think I believe her… 

Once we got up onto it we rode 28 miles along the iconic Blue Ridge Parkway. It was very pretty we enjoyed some great views overlooking the lower landscapes. When we got to the top of the big climb, around 3300 ft, we stopped and I high-fived the boys for reaching the last of our high elevations. Once we descended off the Parkway into Afton, the mountains and passes of the TransAm were officially all behind us. A good number of hills remained, but the there were no more big climbs to deal with. It’s hard to believe we’ve come this far. 

We reached Afton by 5:00 and ended up passing the Cookie Lady’s house. I’d seen pictures of it on others’ blogs and we passed some houses that looked like it, but, not seeing a sign of any sort, we rode on. We were on a steep downhill and we were just about to turn onto another, so I stopped at a church/post office. The last thing we wanted to do is go back up that hill if we’d passed it. I knocked on the church door hoping to find someone there who could direct us. No answer. Suddenly a postal worker came out of the post office attached to the church. “Are you guys all set or do you need anything? Water? Bathroom?” “Water would be great. Thank you. And can you tell me where the Cookie Lady’s house is?” “Yes, it’s right there. You just passed it.” I was so glad we didn’t turn down onto the next long hill. 

The Cookie Lady was named June Curry. She opened her home to the thousands of cyclists who rode the TransAm in 1976 and offered them cookies and water. If you were westbound, her house sat near the bottom of the long climb up to the Parkway. If you were eastbound, like us, she was the welcome respite after an even more brutal climb up from Vesuvius. June passed away in 2012 but the lady who purchased the home and rents out the upper level has left the basement apartment as it is and leaves it open as an unmanned bike hostel. The walls are literally covered with all sorts of cycling and TransAm memorabilia that have been pinned up since 1976. It’s like a museum in there. 

We got to the house by 5:00 and started looking for dinner. The nearest restaurants were in Waynesboro, over 6 miles away–uphill. Not an option. So we ordered pizza from Waynesboro and they delivered it to us. Just before we settled down for the night I heard from Charlie Brown. We’d been playing phone tag since Saturday, though we did get a chance to chat Sunday night. I’d called Charlie’s church in Mineral, VA (Laurel Hill Baptist Church) asking for lodging for Tuesday night. His pastor had passed the request on to him and he’d called me Saturday. When we finally spoke on Sunday he said he couldn’t authorize us to stay in the church but would make some calls and see what he could come up with. He called Monday night to say that we’d be staying at his house. The only catch is he lived in Bumpass, about 14 miles further than Mineral. That meant turning an expected 82 mile day into a 96 mile day. Ninety-six long miles of hills after a tough day coming into Afton. It would not be easy. 

Aug 29

I woke up at 6:00 and could hear the pounding of rain outside. Tony had told me rain was coming our way. Guess this was it. I checked the weather forecast and it looked like it might let up by mid-morning. After breakfast (leftover pizza) we put on our raingear and hit the trail by 7:15. The rain was heavy, making our ride precarious. Not having any shoulders, we’re directly in the traffic and the downhills are tricky with all the potholes, cracks in the road, and even leaves. The ride was long and wet. We rode 96 miles to Charlie’s house and it rained the whole way. We were soaked through and through. The only respite we had was a stop for lunch in Palmyra at First Run Cafe. The service was nice and the food was excellent, which made for a nice break. We had over 40 miles to go afterwards but it was nice to dry out a little. 

Charlie’s house was 2 miles off route and we arrived at 5:45. He lives with his wife in a beautiful home on Lake Anna. They welcomed us with big hugs and showed us to our quarters downstairs. We enjoyed blessed fellowship around the table as we broke great together both for dinner and breakfast. Once again, we felt like family. We invited the Browns up to visit the Cape and they invited us back home to Bumpass, VA. This will be another hard place to leave… 

Today we ride 80 or so miles to Glendale, a little farther than originally planned, to stay at the United Methodist Church there. 

Thanks for praying and thanks for following. 

Until next time… 🙂 

We had a wonderful Lord’s Day here in Daleville, VA. The pastor of Daleville Baptist Church, Wesley Belcher, and his wife Sheila opened their home to us and we enjoyed wonderful fellowship with them. I especially enjoyed the several hours Wesley and I had to talk about pastoral ministry, preaching, theology, and some of the differences between Reformed and Baptist beliefs. I’ve met another true friend in this brother and thank the Lord for the opportunity I had to encourage him. 

The church welcomed us warmly and enthusiastically and said they’d be praying us all the way home. Wesley preached a fine sermon on 1Cor 10.1-8, calling us to press on to enter God’s rest and to learn from the sins of Israel. It was a call not to lust after the things we’ve left behind in our conversion to Christ, a call not to become idolaters while we await the Lord’s return, and a call to flee sexual immorality. It was a great final Lord’s Day on our travels across America and a great sermon to go home with. Wesley and I talked quite a bit about preaching and I recommended he read Dabney’s excellent book entitled “Evangelical Eloquence.” But I was happy to tell him after the service yesterday, “Brother, that was preaching.” 

We spent the late afternoon taking a ride along the Blue Ridge Parkway. We’ve really enjoyed our time here with the Belcher family and their church.

Aug 28

It’s hard to believe we’re beginning our finally few days on the TransAm today. In order to get to Yorktown on Thursday night we need to make it to Afton tonight. It’s a 100 miles from Daleville and a combination of a lot of climbing followed up by one final climb up to the Blue Ridge Parkway, which we ride for 28 miles to Afton. I’m concerned that it’s too far with all the climbing so I’ve asked Wesley to take us down the road a bit and drop us off. My knee’s been doing fine but I don’t want to overdo it on the last leg of the journey. 

After Afton we’ll ride 82 miles to Mineral, then 60 miles to Mechanicsville, and then the final 80 miles to Yorktown. 

Thanks for praying and thanks for following.

Until next time… 🙂 

“Glass!” I yelled as I sped down the hill. But Forrest and Rocky were too close behind me to steer around it. They rode through it and all I heard was “crack.” Forrest and I went speeding on down the hill at probably 30 mph and then he yelled, “I don’t see Rocky!” That’s not good. 

We’d dropped off the car at 9:00 at Enterprise less than a mile from the Super 8 where we stayed the night I’d managed to navigate us the 2.7 miles from Enterprise to the TransAmerica trail. We’d jumped on at Ellett Rd and quickly began a long, winding downhill. It was a great way to start the morning and a most welcome start to Map 12, the last map of our journey. Down we went, faster and faster–until I saw the glass. 

Forrest and I turned around and started biking up the hill looking for Rocky. We finally found him pushing his bike downhill. The glass had made a huge cut into the sidewall of both tire and tube. Without both a spare tire and tube we were dead in the water on the side of a narrow downhill. Not a good place to be. Now what? We needed a ride to the nearest bike shop. I could see on my map that there was one in Blacksburg–probably less than 5 miles from where we were. A jeep with an empty trailer was coming up the hill. Forrest said, “Wave him down Daddy. Wave him down. Wave him down!” I was in deep thought as he cruised on up the hill. “Why didn’t you wave him down!?” “I was still trying to gather my thoughts about what to do son.” “Well there went our chance.” “No, start praying for another one. God will send another one.” Not 30 secs later a big 4dr truck pulling a boat came up the hill. I waved him down and he stopped. “Y’all need something?” “Yes, we hit a patch of glass and we’ve got a bad flat. We need to get to the bikeship in Blacksburg.” “Well I’m going to Blacksburg.” “Boy if you wouldn’t mind giving us a lift we’d really appreciate it.” “Not at all.” We quickly loaded the bikes in the back and hoped into the backseat. I had no idea which bike shop to go to or how far this would take us from the bike trail or how we’d get back on the trail. I figured I’d figure that out later. Right now we needed Rocky’s flat fixed. 

Three bike shops came up on google. One on S. Main one on N. Main and another somewhere else. “I know where S. Main is,” the driver said. “Ok, then; let’s go to that one.” We were there in less than 10 mins. While we waited outside for 5 mins for the shop to open I opened Maps on my phone to try and figure out where we were and how we were going to get back to the trail. It turned out we were less than 3 miles from the trail and a matter of three quick turns would put us on a road which led directly back to the road we were on–ahead of the glass 🙂 We were back on the bikes at 10:30. 

Tony from Sebree had put us in touch with a Presbyterian pastor in the area of Daleville/Buchanan who’d put me in touch with a couple with whom we were planning to stay. I wasn’t yet sure where we’d meet but I figured we’d bike to Daleville and call him from there. The ride was a really nice one down Catawba Road, a narrow, hilly side road which ran along a mountain range on the right. It was a beautiful ride and we only saw a handful of cars. I felt like we were on a bike path. The uphills weren’t bad at all and the downhills were long and steep. We reached 35 mph several times 😀 

We pushed past lunch, stopping only to eat an apple, because I wanted to get to Daleville asap (a 50 mile ride), which we reached around 1:30. I had no idea where to go so we pulled over at the first gas station we saw–Mama D’s. I called Phil Storms while the boys got on their devices. “Hi James. Did you get my message last night?” “No I’m sorry, but I didn’t.” “Well we’re a good hour away from where you are. You should call Will Smith.” The pastor had given me numbers for both Phil and Will but I thought Phil was closer. “Oh, well I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I’ll call Will.” “Hi Will. This is James La Belle the pedaling pastor….” “I wish I could help you James but I have a full house tonight and can’t think of any other options.” Hmmmm. What now? I’ll call the pastor back. “I’m sorry those didn’t work for you. Why don’t you call Roger at Rader Funeral Home and tell him you’re connected with me.” “Hi Roger. My name is James La Belle and Pastor Jeff told me to call you. I’m a pastor on sabbatical traveling across the country with my two sons on bicycle….” “Sorry I can’t help you. Try St. Mark’s United Methodist Church.” I called St. Mark’s and left a message–even though, given it’s a Saturday afternoon, I knew no one would get it until next week. I googled the local churches. Daleville Baptist Church on Valley Rd. Been very blessed by Baptists lately; I’ll call that one. A lady picked up the phone. I explained the who, the what, and the wherefore. “So where are you now?” “We’re at Mama D’s gas station on Roanoke Rd.” “Well, you’re right across the street from our church. Why don’t you come on over and I’ll try to get ahold of the pastor (her husband :). Right across the street? Are you kidding me!? What wonderful providence. 

As we crossed Roanoke Rd. to head up Valley Rd. I looked up to notice the 76 Bike Route sign. The TransAmerica trail ran directly passed their church! “I’ve definitely seen a lot of cyclists on that road,” the pastor later said to me. Maybe they’ll start an outreach ministry similar to First Baptist Church in Sebree 😀 

Sheila met us at the door and greeted us warmly. After some basic intros we brought our bikes inside and headed down the street for lunch. Her husband Wesley, the pastor, would meet us there. We enjoyed the Italian subs and Wesley and I talked a lot about ministry, preaching, church life, denominations, the OPC, Machen, and the Baptists. Afterwards he brought us back to the church and said, “I have a visit to make, but why don’t y’all hang out here for a few hours until I can come back and get you. Sheila and I would like you to be our guests tonight.” “We’d like that very much brother. Thank you.” 

So here we are, at Daleville Baptist Church. We would’ve biked further today–at least another 20 miles to Buchanan–but the Lord had plans for us here. Please pray that I can encourage Wesley in the Lord and that God will bless us with the preaching of the Word here. We thought we’d be attending our first Presbyterian/Reformed church tomorrow but it looks like the Lord has a purpose for us here at the Baptist church. It’s odd to think that, Lord willing, this is our last Sunday on the bike trail. We’ve not found a single Presbyterian/Reformed church on the entire trail except here in Daleville, VA. And here in the first town where there happens to be a Reformed church, the Lord closes the door to our attending there. Of course we could actually enjoy the Baptist church’s hospitality tonight and then bike on down to the Presbyterian church (wherever it is) for service tomorrow; but I think it’s clear we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be and with whom we’re supposed to be. I’ve tried to learn to let the Lord lead; and I hope I’ve gotten a lot better at following Him. 

Thanks for praying and thanks for following. 

Until next time… 🙂 

I got the boys up at 6:00 so we could head into town for breakfast at the coffee shop on Main. They opened at 7:00 so we had plenty of time to get all packed up and do our devotions. Just before we were ready to head out Carolyn, the Funeral Director, walked over (she lives next door) and invited us for breakfast. Praise the Lord! Not only did she save us a few dollars but it gave us an opportunity to spend time with our kind hostess. We enjoyed egg casserole, fresh fruit, and toast. Thank you Carolyn! 

It was honestly a bit weird spending the night in a funeral home. Rocky was not a little freaked out. There was one bed and a couch upstairs but since the couch was too small I slept downstairs on a larger couch. Rocky thought I was crazy since it was next to the embalming room… Thankfully Carolyn told us when we arrived that there were no bodies in the home at that time. Well that was a relief. But to add to the freakiness when I asked Carolyn if we could do some laundry she led us through the embalming room to the washer and dryer. Rocky had the creepy crawlies for a while and Forrest just thought, “Cool!” and took a couple of pictures. I’m sure Forrest had fun teasing Rocky that night. As for me, I stayed awake nearly all night as the grandfather clock downstairs chimed a tune every 15 mins. Good thing tomorrows was only a 56 mile ride… 

We left New Haven by 8:00 headed for Harrodsburg. I had no idea where we’d be staying and reached out to Tony from Sebree–our newfound lodging expert–and asked him to see if he could get ahold of the First Baptist Church there. He texted me by lunch with the good news that not only would the church put us up, but if we got there before 4PM we could shower at the gym. No problem! We were on schedule to reach Harrodsburg by 2:00. The 56 mile ride that day wasn’t bad. It was full of the hills we’ve gotten used to around this part of the country and so we just kept on pedaling, shifting high and then low and then high again. 

One cool thing was that we passed through Loretta, the home of Maker’s Mark Kentucky bourbon. We didn’t actually see the distlllery–although I would’ve loved to. And if we’d passed through Bardstown, apparently we would’ve seen 3 or 4 different distilleries! Is that why there’s so much corn around here? Coming into Loretta out of the boonies we suddenly came upon dozens of 6-story black buildings. They looked like barracks or office buildings but not a single car was parked near them. They just stood there one after the other. What in the world…!? As we rode by Rocky looked in one of the windows and caught sight of a barrel. “It’s the Maker’s Mark warehouses we were told about,” he said. “No way,” I said. “There’s way too many of them.” We stopped in the very small town to use the restroom and I walked into a cafe/bar and asked a lady sitting there, “What in the world are all those black buildings we passed?” “Those are Maker’s Mark warehouses.” “Ok, but they’re not all full are they?” “Oh yes they are. And they’re building more.” “Boys, welcome to the bourbon capital of the world.” 

We got to the church in Harrodsburg by 2:00 and were met by Tim Underhill, the outreach pastor. He showed us to the showers and then to the open room next to the weight room in which we’d be staying. It was a huge open floor on which we could lay out our mats and we had access to all the chips and soda in the kitchen we wanted. Thanks Tim! We were grateful for the hospitality and got a fair night’s sleep. 

Aug 25

We were on the road by 7:00 heading for Berea. It was only a 48 mile ride but it would be the end of our ride for today…

When we planned this 3 month bike trip and couldn’t even start it before mid June I knew it would prevent us from seeing Schylie off to Uganda. She was scheduled to fly out of Boston on Sept 4 and we probably wouldn’t reach the Atlantic until Sept 14. Mama would have to see her off and I wouldn’t be there. I’d accepted that. I didn’t at all like the idea and was very sad about the timing, but I’d accepted it. We’d keep on pedaling and get to Yorktown as soon as we could but there was no way we’d get home before she left. So when we saw the family in Cañon City, CO we knew it’d be the last time we’d see Schylie for over a year. That was hard. 

Last Saturday Schylie sent me an email that I couldn’t get off my mind. She wrote, “Thanks Daddy! I love you too 🙂 Miss you dreadfully….” I couldn’t even reply. I missed her too. Dreadfully. 

We passed two westbound riders a while back and they said they’d been on the road for a month… Really? Are we that close? I did the math to figure out our average miles per day and how many days might be left. At that time we were 52 biking days in and had, at most, 18 biking days left. It looked like we’d finish around Sept 8 or 9. Wow! That’d be almost a week earlier than I’d planned… But it’d still be several days shy of getting home in time to see Schylie. We needed to reach the Atlantic about 5 days sooner than our feet could pedal us. 

So when we were hanging out in Harrodsburg I decided to call Enterprise in Berea, KY and book a rental car to drive us to Christiansburg, VA. It would mean driving the entire length of Map 11, 375.5 miles. Berea is the end of Map 10 and Christiansburg is the beginning of Map 12. We were a little bummed not to bike that portion and therefore not to bike the entire TransAmerica Bike Trail. But, hands down, family is worth far more than any plaque on the wall or notch on the belt. As far as we’re concerned, when, Lord willing, we reach Yorktown, VA next week, we will have biked across this vast country of ours. And if you look at a map of the US and you look at the TransAm trail, the stretch between Berea and Christiansburg is very small compared to the rest. So with the Lord’s help we hope to reach our journey’s end by Friday and be home via Amtrak by Saturday. That’s my plan but I’ll keep you posted as things unfold. 

We’ve got to drop the rental off at 9:00 and then we’ll get back on the trail and head for Daleville or Buchanan. With Tony’s help again we’ve made contact with some fellow believers in that area who are happy to host us for Sat night and the Lord’s Day. God is so good. 

Thanks for praying and thanks for following. 

Until next time… 🙂 

Before I bring you up to speed on the last 2 days, I really should say something about our Lord’s Day in Sebree, KY. 

Aug 20

First of all, the bike hostel there should serve as the gold standard for all the rest. I wish the Adventure Cycling Association would do a write up on it and encourage all the other hostels to follow their example where they’re able. Second place would definitely be Al’s Place (the jail) in Farmington, MO. 

As regards the Lord’s Day, I had a really great experience in the Men’s Sunday School class. The lesson was on 2Cor 5 and Bob Hardison led the study. But what impressed me most of all was the way in which the men interacted with one another and actively contributed to the discussion. Rather than having to be the speaker, Bob really just kept the conversation going between everyone else. In all my experiences with men’s studies, getting the men to really talk is like pulling teeth. So I was really blessed to see the men so comfortable with each other and such good friends/brothers in Christ that they were open and talkative. We need more of that back home at my church. 

The sermon was on Mt 6.19-24 and Pastor Tony preached a great message calling us all not to pursue the things of this life, that never deliver waht they promise, but to lay up our treasures in heaven. We had lunch with the pastor, his wife Jill, and their children Melody, Selah, and Timothy. For the evening Bible study Pastor Tony taught a class on pneumatology, the study of the Holy Spirit. And after class we had dinner at Bob and Violet Hardison’s house joined by another cyclist who’d biked the TransAm 19 years ago and was in town visiting his nephew for the eclipse. It was a great day of fellowship with the saints and a wonderful reminder of the blessing of honoring the Lord’s Day as we make our way across the country. 

Aug 22

After such a great time there, it was sad to leave Sebree Baptist Church. But for all the blessings of our time there, we do have to get home… We stopped at the Sebree Dairy Bar for breakfast and Pastor Tony stopped by there to visit us and pray for us before we headed out. I really enjoyed his fellowship and pray the Lord will continue to grow him in the grace and knowledge of Christ and pour out His blessings on his ministry at Sebree. 

We were on the bikes by 8:00 heading for Falls of Rough. There was a Baptist church there and I’d left a message for the pastor hoping that we could stay there. I hadn’t heard back yet and asked Tony if he could put out a call to him as well and he said he’d be glad to. The ride was full of hills and our stomachs were giving us trouble–I don’t think the breakfast settled. At one point I pulled over for a break because I thought I might lost my breakfast. Thankfully I didn’t and we were able to get back on the road. I texted Tony asking for prayer and soon our stomachs cleared up. By Sugar Grove (18 miles shy of Fords of Rough) neither I nor Tony had heard anything back from the church in Falls of Rough so we needed another plan. We stopped in at the Sugar Grove Baptist Church to use the restroom and fill up our water bottles. The church was super nice and they had a bedroom and shower for use. The boys wanted badly to stop there for the night but we’d only gone 48 miles and it was just after 1:00. However, we enjoyed a nice conversation with Yvonne, the sister of the pastor and a good friend of the pastor a church on the Cape (small world, eh?). We thanked her for her hospitality and returned to our bikes in the parking lot. I was still uncomfortable with not having a place for the night. As we waited for Rocky to use the restroom again I remembered there was another lady in the church. I wondered if she might be able to help us. I went back inside. “Excuse me. I’m cycling across the country with my two sons and was wondering if you knew of a church in the Falls of Rough area that might be willing to put us up for the night.” “I don’t know of anything in that area but I know of Bethel Fellowhip in McDaniels, the next town over. They have a boys ranch there and I’m sure they’ll put you up. The pastor’s name is Ron Miller but I don’t have a number for him.” “Wow. That’s a great help. Thank you so much.” 

I went outside to google the church. I got the number but when I dialed it it was disconnected. Guess we’ll just knock on the door of the parsonage. I texted Tony telling him about the church in McDaniels to see if he could help. He immediately got on the horn and tracked down the pastor’s cell number and left a message. Before long the pastor called him back and said we were more than welcome to stay at the church. Thank you Tony. Thank you Lord. Now we just needed to make it to McDaniels. The sky had been dark and threatening for some time and about 14 miles before we reached the church it finally began to come down. We were already soaking wet with sweat so we didn’t bother putting on our rain gear and just rode on. We reached the church by 6 PM. Pastor Ron Miller was in Paducah picking up a van for the church but his son Kevin greeted us, showed us around the church, and let us pick a place to sleep that would suit us. We picked the Youth Chapel. It was carpeted, dark, and quiet. We were asleep before 10:00. 

 
Aug 23

We left the church by 7:30, just as parents, teachers, and students began arriving–they have a Christian school there as well. The goal today was Sonora, a 37 mile ride. We were planning to visit Ellen Marcel’s brother (John) and mother in Glasgow, KY, which is quite a bit south of Sonora. Since we really don’t have the time to cycle those extra miles John was trying to arrange for someone to come up to Sonora to get us and then to drop us back off on the trail Friday morning. It looked like it was all going to come together so we were heading for Sonora. But unfortunately I soon got a message from John that the ride fell through. We were really bummed but quickly brought our heart to our condition remembering that God is in control and always does right by His children. So now for Plan B. Where are we going today? Sonora is too close and Springfield is too far. I texted Tony again to see if he could help. He soon found a church in New Haven. “That’s great brother!” But just when I thought we were all set he texted back saying that it was a dead end. Unwilling to give up so easily, he called City Hall. Then the lady at City Hall made a call and soon we had the numbe of a brother who worked at the funeral home in New Haven and said we could stay in the room upstairs. We were to call when we got to town. Thank you Tony. Can you believe the wonderul providence? Here we are in New Haven, KY sleeping in an air conditioned room for the night. Thank you Lord. Never thought I’d spend the night in a funeral home, but here we are. Guess we can delete this from our bucket list 🙂 

Not sure where we’ll end up tomorrow. We might have to stop in Harrodsburg. It’s kinda close; but Berea is too far and there’s not much else in between. 

Thanks for praying and thanks for following. We love and miss you all very much. 

Until next time… 🙂 

Hello everybody! In the Lord’s kind providence we were able to catch a ride today with a group from the Sebree, KY church going south to see the eclipse. In the group with us were Bob and Violet, Doug and Martha, Steve, Linda, Norma, Betty, and Darlene. We drove an hour south to Hopkinsville, KY where the duration of the totality was 2:39–only 2 seconds less than the best spot in the US, Carbondale, IL–which we biked through on Friday. 

I remember seeing a poster advertising the eclipse when we were passing through Oregon. I took a picture of the path of totality going across the country and thought to myself, “I wonder where we’ll be on Aug 21st.” I figured we’d be in MO or KY but there was no way of knowing if we’d be anywhere near the path and able to see it. We are so thankful that God worked it out so that we not only saw it but from so great a spot as Hopkinsville, KY and with such great Christian brethren as we traveled with today. We got there about 10:00. The eclipse started just before noon and we packed up and left just before 2:00. With a stop for ice cream at Dairy Queen we got back to the church around 4:00. 

Bob knew the pastor of Concord Baptist Church in Hopkinsville and had arranged for us to camp out in his church parking lot along with well over 100 other people. It was nice to see so many people travel from so far to see something so wonderful. Everyone was so nice and kind. There was a mutual excitement and joy in the air. The pastor of the church walked around greeting the visitors and sharing the gospel of Jesus wherever he could. The church opened their doors so we could use the restroom and they offered free water, coffee, and donuts. Please pray that the seeds planted and watered will come to fruition in saving faith. The scientific wonder we saw today was none other than the work of our God. The heavens declared His glory and the sky proclaimed His handiwork today. May we give Him praise. 

One man who set up a tripod with high powered binoculars with a solar filter kindly let anyone who asked to come and look through it. I stood by him and his wife (Mamba Jamba and Kimm) and not only enjoyed many great views of the sun being eclipsed but also was able to take pictures through the binoculars using my iPhone. Some of the pictures are a bit fuzzy but I never would’ve gotten such great shots by just putting the eclipse glasses on my phone’s camera. 

So I want to thank Mamba Jamba for giving me such free use of his binoculars and I want to share some of these great photos with you. 

Tonight we’re having dinner with Pastor Tony, the pastor of the church here, and Lord willing we’ll be on the road early heading for Falls of Rough, KY 75 miles away. 

PS. I finally heard from Karolina. She had so many troubles with her bike that a bike shop in KS gifted her with a new bike and she’s back on the road. She left Golden City, MO this morning, which we left on the 11th. She keeps sending me pictures of our signatures in the cycling log books along the way 🙂 So please keep praying for her.

Thanks for praying and thanks for following.

Until next time… 🙂 

The alarm went off at 5:15, which gave us plenty of time to pack up, do our devotions, and get to the Vintage Market in town by 6:00 for breakfast. We loaded our bikes, signed the hostel cycling log, locked the door, and headed to the restaurant. We weren’t the first ones there. A handful of men on their way to work sat around a table by the front door. As soon as we walked in, all donned up in our cycling clothes, one of them said, “Here comes the brush guards for big trucks.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It’s true that we ride between semis and the “brush” on the side of the road but we have no intention of being their brush guards. But I didn’t think he meant any ill by it; so I just said, “Yes, it gets pretty tight out there sometimes,” and took a seat at a nearby table. He then kindly proceeded to ask us several questions about our trip, who we were, which way we were going, &c. It was a nice conversation really. They seemed genuinely interested and, when the man who spoke to us got up to leave, he walked towards the back door and then turned back and said, “You boys be safe out there!” “We will. Thank you.” 

We loaded up with a nice breakfast. Rocky ordered pancakes, Forrest got a bistuits and gravy stack of some sort, and I can’t remember what I ordered but it was plenty. I also ordered a white chocolate mocha since it was a coffee shop as well. Buit when I went up to the counter to pay the lady said, “Your meal is on the house.” “Really? Are you serious? Wow. Thank you so much.” I left a nice tip in the tip jar and wondered if the man who conversed with us covered our meal. He was definitely a regular and a local. Only God knows; but if he did I pray the Lord blesses him for the kindness. 

There was a serious climb out of Ellington that gave us a real good clue of what our day was going to be like. We were aiming for Farmington–a 61 mile ride. There’s a really nice bike hostel there in a jail that went out of service in 1996. They call it Al’s Place after a famous local cyclist. 

The first town we came to when we left Ellington was Centerville. We took a selfie with the sign and missed home. It’s only one syllable different (Centerville, MO instead of Centerville, MA) but over 1000 miles apart. Guess we’ll have to keep on pedaling. After Centerville we came upon the well-known Johnsons’s Shut-Ins State Park. There are some really nice spots to wade/swim in the East Fork of the Black River so we stopped there and visited the Visitor’s Center. We looked around a bit and watched a video of the restoration of the park after a huge flood in 2005 destroyed everything. When we learned the swimming area was nearly  a mile and a half up the river and the water looked to be really low, we opted not to go to it. It was a hard decision to make but we figured we’d better just keep going. We had a lot of climbing ahead of us. None of us wanted to deal with wet swimming clothes afterwards. And we just really wanted to get the day’s biking behind us. So we pedaled on. 

We stopped in Graniteville for a hotdog and an ice cream sandwich for lunch and of course to fill up our bottles with cold ice water. Our next stop for water was in Doe Run, 10 miles shy of our destination. I went in first and filled up my bottles and came back out to wait for the boys by the bikes. After a little while a lady comes out and approaches me. She says, “You must be Forrest’s dad.” “Yes, I am.” “He wanted me to come out and let you know that I’m going to be praying for your safety.” “Wow, that’s wonderful! Thank you so much.” “I was talking to him inside about your trip and told him that I’d be praying for ya’ll and he said, “You should go tell my dad that.” So I wanted to come out nad let you know.” “That’s grea. Why don’t you follow us on our blog so that you can see where we are and you’ll know when we get safely home.” I never got her name but God knows her and I’m thankful for her prayers. 

We got to Al’s Place by 2:30 and were very impressed with it. It’s a small 2-story jail that was built in 1870 and retired from service in 1996. The first floor is used as a place to lock up our bikes during the night and the second floor has been remodeled into a 3 bdrm apartment (sleeps 14 on 7 bunk beds) with a living room, laundry room, kitchen, and 2 full bathrooms. It was super nice. We each had our own room for a change. And we can all say we spent a night in jail 😀 We heated up some soup for dinner and kicked back to watch “Castaway” together. I’d seen it years ago but the boys hadn’t so we had a nice relaxing evening together. It was another crazy day of climbing. Similar to Monday’s ride, over the 61 miles we had an accumulated ascent of 3300 ft with an accumulated descent of 2900. Now that’s some HILLS!!! 

Aug 17

We were up early for a long day. After breakfast and devotions we were able to get on the road by 6:45. The goal for today was to at least reach Murphysboro, IL. Not only would that put us into our 8th state(!) but it would also be the end of our 9th map! It would be an 86 mile ride with plenty of hills but we had two things to motivate us. We’d be passing through Chester, IL, the home of Popeye (whom Forrest really likes) and we’d be taking the “Missippil Levee Alternate” route from Chester to Murphysboro, a more level and biker friendly road than the narrow highway with tons of semis hauling coal. So off we went. 

The 48 mile ride to Chester wenbt surprisingly well. We made really good time, crossing the Mississippi River into Chester, IL by 11:15. I hadn’t told Forrest about Popeye so he was really surprised when we immediately pulled into the Visitor Center and I pointed out the Popeye statue. We took a few pictures and then rode into town for lunch and a visit to the Popeye Museum. The lady at the museum was really nice, telling us all about the creator of Popeye (who lived there in Chester), the upcoming eclipse, and all the cyclists who come through her museum every summer. I thanked her for everything and then went outside to check on our lodging for the night. 

I’d already emailed Jack Wides, a warmshower in Carbondale, 10 miles past Murphysboro, so I wanted to check my email to see if he’d replied. He had replied and said he’d be glad to have us. A warmshower is always nice but it was a hot day and I wasn’t too excited about the extra 10 miles. So I started calling churches in Murphysboro. I spoke with a lady at the Evangelical Church who said she’d call me if she could find someone to open the church for us–she never called back–and I left a message for Pastor Larry of the United Methodist Church. The rest was in the Lord’s hands. 

The Mississippi Levee Alternate is a flatter route that runs, mostly, down along the Mississippi River. But more than being mostly flat it also has far less traffic and no semis. The road into and out of Chester was full of semis headed for the coal terminal south of Chester. They came one after the other–on a road with no shoulder–and seemed to never stop. We still had to ride 10 miles to Cora with the semis, but after Cora we were able to turn on Levee Rd and snake our way to Murphysboro on back roads with very little traffic. For a long stretch we had the road so to ourselves that it was like we were on a bike path. 

On the way to Cora we rode through Rockwood, a little town of 32 people. It’s a dot on the map. We were humored by the town name because it was the loose combination of Rocky’s and Forrest’s names. I think Rocky stopped to take a picture of the town sign. But for as small as Rockwood is and for as quickly as we’d be through it, there was an old Trading Post building that caught our eye as we cycled by. Forrest said, “Whoa! That was cool!!!” I thought it was pretty cool too so I said, “I’ll pull over and wait here if you want to go back and see it.” I pulled over and he and Rocky turned around to go back. Soon they waved me back. I turned around and parked my bike on the “go side” of the road. I could hear a man talking to them. Forrest yelled across the road to me, “Come on over Daddy, there’s cold water for you.” I headed over and was greeted by a kind man named Fred Gilbert who shook my hand and handed me a cold bottle of water. We talked for as long as decency required and then I was itching to take our leave. We still had 38 miles to go to Murphysboro and another 10 if we were to end up in Carbondale. 

As soon as we got back to our bikes Rocky came up to me and said, “Daddy, I lost my iPod.” “How did you do that!?” “I think it fell out of my pocket when Forrest and I were horsing around in the grass in Chester.” “Well I really don’t want to ride back to Chester…” “Let’s call the lady at Subway and see if she’ll be willing to go out and look for it.” He called, and she did go out and look–in vain–but he but he was still convinced that it was there. “Maybe we can ask Fred if he can give us a ride back to Chester to look for it.” “Ok. Go ask him then. If he says yes I’ll stay here with the bikes and you and Forrest can go look for it.” Fred dropped everything and loaded the boys up in his truck to drive the 8 miles back to Chester. I sat by the bikes to wait. As I sat there I got a call from Larry, the pastor of the United Methodist Church in Murphysboro. After he laughed in unbelief that I was cycling across the country with my two sons, he said, “I’m sure we can give you a place to stay here at the church just call me when you get into town.” Nice! Praise the Lord. We had a place in Murphysboro and didn’t need to go to Carbondale. I had no idea how long the boys would be and how much this would delay us so I emailed my regrets to Jack Wides in Carbondale and explained that we’d be staying in Murphysboro instead. 

The boys actually returned around 3:45 with the happy news that they’d found the iPod in the grass. I thanked Fred for his kindness as we got ready to leave. As it turns out, he’s the mayor of Rockwood. How cool is that, eh!? Thank you Fred! 

We very much enjoyed the 38 mile ride to Murphysboro. It was mostly flat with a good climb up into town and we arrived just after 6:00. We went straight to the church and Larry came out to meet us with a big smile. He’d never heard of anyone riding their bikes across the country and was both surprised and impressed by it all. He let us shower in the old parsonage (which is office space now) while he taught an evening class and then met up with us afterwards (8:00) to show us where in the church we could sleep and to give us a key to the church. Once we got the key to the place we we headed over to the nationally famous 17th St. BBQ for a late dinner. Before setting down for the night I saw in my email that Jack Wides was really disappointed that we didn’t come to his place. He said he was really looking forward to meeting us and wanted to know what an Orthodox Presbyterian was. Well I couldn’t pass that up… So I emailed him and asked if he’d like to meet for breakfast. He said he’d be glad to and picked a restaurant 6 blocks from the church 🙂 

Aug 18

We met Jack Wides for breakfast at Cindy B’s at 7:30. He came with a guy named Gary, a pedaling astronomer who’d stayed the night with him. Gary was in the area to write an article on the NASA coverage of the eclipse in Carbondale, the area of the US which gets the longest duration of total darkness–2:41. We all enjoyed good conversation over a nice breakfast and Gary was nice enough to pay. And on top of it all Gary gave us glasses through which to see the eclipse. Thank you Gary! The conversation turned at one point to what an Orthodox Presbyterian was (Jack is a nominal Jew), which gave me ano opportunity to speak of the Lord. Our talk never got very deep but seeds were planted and for that I can be thankful. 

We didn’t get on the bikes until almost 9:15. The goal for the day was the smal town of Eddyville, IL, a 65 mile ride. I didn’t know where we’d stay the night yet so before leaving town I texted Pastor Larry and asked if he knew any churches in Eddyville and if he could put us in touch with a pastor there. With that done we pulled out of town. A little later Larry texted me with the name and number of the United Methodist minister in Eddyville. When we stopped for lunch in Goreville I called Pastor Michael and he said, “The doors are open; go in and make yourself at home. You can eat whatever food you find in the kitchen.” Thank you Lord. We were all set for the night. We pulled into town around 5:30. Two older couples sitting on the front porch of a house in the shade waved kindly at us as we passed by them on Main St. The church was just a block away. We entered the sanctuary and the thermostat read 86 degrees. Pastor Michael said we could set it to whatever we wanted as long as we reset it before we left. We lowered the temp to 70 and waited patiently. There were no showers or laundry so we took a sponge bath and rinsed the salt and sweat out of our clothes. When I was waiting on the boys to get cleaned up I walked over to the house on Main St. to ask them where we could get some dinner. They gave me directions me to the town’s restaurant and then asked a ton of questions about us and our trip. 

After dinner I sat in the basement of the church and worked a bit on this blog post before heading to bed around 11:00. The boys were already asleep on the floor of the sanctuary. I didn’t want to get out my air mattress unless I had to so I decided to try sleeping on a pew. They’re very narrow but since I sleep mostly on my side I figured it should work well enough for a night.

Aug 19

I woke the boys up by 5:30 since we had an 87 mile ride ahead of us. Eighty-seven miles was ambitous–or crazy–in this hilly region but we’d heard from Samuel that there was a great hostel at the First Baptist Church in Sebree, KY. To reach it would put us in a comfy place for the night but more than that it would give us a great church in which to hear the Word and a perfect place in which to see the eclipse. So one way or another, by hook or by crook, we had to make it to Sebree. 

We didn’t have much of a breakfast before heading out of Eddyville so I told the boys we’d stop in Elizabethtown for a bite to eat. It was a 21 mile ride with plenty of tough hills and a lot of humidity so by the time we got there we were ready for a break. We grabbed two sandwiches each, one to eat now and one to save for lunch. In the Lord’s kind providence a heavy downpour passed through town while we were chillin on a bench outside the store with our sandwich. We left town heading for Cave-In-Rock where we were to catch a ferry and cross the Ohio River over into Kentucky. I was glad when we rolled down the hill directly onto the ferry. Talk about perfect timing 🙂 The ferry ride was probably about 5 mins and dropped us onto the shores of Kentucky.

Given the many miles over many hills today I was on the lookout for a pickup that could give us a lift part of the way. There were no pickups on the ferry with us so I gave up on the idea and was ready to head out. But the boys wanted to wait out one more ferry rotation to see if we could find a ride. When that effort proved vain it was time to go. We got to Marion, after many though hills, by lunch so we found a pavilion in town and ate our sandwiches. 

It would’ve been just like any other day except for the fact that were way behind our normal schedule. It was lunchtime and not only had we only gone 30 miles, but we still had 57 more to go. It’s very unusual for us to have so many miles ahead of us after lunch and so few behind us by lunch. Besides the 20-30 min break in Elizabethtown we’d done as we usually do and pedal on. But given the hills and humidity we’d faced here we were… And we still had a lot of hills and humidity ahead of us. There was a bike hostel at the United Methodist church in Marion and Rocky was nearly begging me to stop there. But I knew the Sebree hostel was much nicer and I really wanted to worship and spend the Lord’s Day at the Baptist church rather than the Methodist church. So I pushed him and we pedaled on. The miles slowly ticked by as we passed through Clay and Dixon and finally reached Sebree by 6:30. ––It’s hard to believe but in the 87 miles we covered from Eddyville, IL to Sebree, KY we had an accumulated elevation gain of nearly 4700 ft while dropping almost 300 ft. 4700 ft! That’s more than we climbed in one day even in the Rockies! Now that’s a lot of little hills! 

We rode up to the front door of the church and stopped our bikes. As we were getting off our bikes a man came out of the parsonage next door to greet us. He had a warm, welcome smile and was happy to take us around the back of the church to the downstairs entrance of their bike hostel. Pastor Tony has only been here a year but his predecessor, Pastor Bob (who still lives across the street with his wife Violet), started hosting TransAm cyclists 20 years ago. They used to invite them into thier home and seize the opportunity to show them the love of Christ. When the church expanded many years ago they took the bull by the horns and built this bike hostel into the basement of their annex. It’s the nicest hostel we’ve seen so far. Not only is it large and relaxing but they’ve thought of everything a cyclist might need or want in a hostel. It’s a top-shelf hostel and Pastor Tony and his wife are very good at serving the cyclists and standing ready for every opportunity to tell the world on their doorsteps about Jesus Christ. I pray many come to Christ through the seeds planted and watered here in Sebree, KY. 

After we got cleaned up we headed into town for dinner at the BBQ Junction. I was surprised to discover that it was a hole-in-the-wall “carry out only” place. I was expecting sit-down service. In any case, the owners were kind and the food was excellent. I told the lady we were cyclists staying at the church and her face beamed, “Well, we’re glad to have you! Thanks for coming in. How do you like the hostel?” “Oh it’s super nice. We’re so happy to be there…. And we’re staying to worship there tomorrow as well hanging out for the eclipse on Monday.” “That’s nice. I think you’ll really enjoy the service tomorrow. That’s my home church. I grew up in that church.” We sat at a picnic table outside and ate our meal. I’d commented while inside that the brownies looked good. While we sat eating our dinner one of cooks came out and gave us each a brownie and said, “Here, this is for you. Enjoy.” Everywhere we turn, in both the great and small matters of every day, it’s so very clear that the Lord is looking out for us. 

When I told Pastor Tony we were hoping to stay over both for the Lord’s Day and for the eclipse he was delighted and said we’re more than welcome to. And when I told him I was an OPC pastor, the good stuff began as we started talking about preaching, church polity, and the Reformed Faith. We’re really looking forward to our time here. We’re scheduled to have lunch with Pastor Tony and his family and then supper with Pastor Bob and his wife. 

Thanks for following and thanks for praying. 

Until next time… 🙂 

We worshipped with Pastor Dan Raymond and his family at Son-Rise Christian Church, a congregation of about 200. They were celebrating the 10 year anniversary of Son-Rise with several testimonials from charter members as well newer members who have come to Christ through the ministry there. As a result of these testimonials Pastor Dan did not preach. The service was composed of songs, testimonies, a Scripture reading, and an opening and closing prayer. After the service they shared a meal together, the highlight of which was fried catfish. During the Sunday School prayer time Curtis, the SS teacher, introduced us to those who were attending. As a result, a handful of people came up to us afterwards to greet us and ask about our bike trip. But besides them we were a bit surprised that so few people noticed us or spoke to us. We sat at a large table in the middle of the gym hoping that others would come to join us but none did until Pastor Dan came to sit with us near the end of our meal. I think everyone was just busy and distracted by the occasion for the service. As Pastor Dan said afterwards, it was a time of navel-gazing. 

Just before Pastor Dan came to sit with us he came over to me and asked me what time we were heading off on the bikes. “Probably sometime between 7:30 and 8:00 [in the morning] would be good.” “Well, we’re heading to Kansas City today and, I don’t mean to kick you out, but you can’t stay with us tonight.” Well that was unexpected. I’d emailed Pastor Dan requesting 2 nights’ lodging and when he invited us to stay at his house he hadn’t mentioned that they were leaving and we could only stay one night. So we were not prepared for that bit of information. “Oh, well that’s no problem. There are three campgrounds in town we can stay at.” “Ok. Good.” The forecast was for light rain all day and into the night. Neither of us wanted to camp. And where would we spend the rest of the day? In our tent? In a restaurant? “Daddy, we’ve met some nice people this morning I think we could just go and ask some of them if they have an extra room,” said Forrest. “Or maybe we can ask Pastor Dan if he knows anyone else in the church who can put us up for the night,” he continued. “Son I don’t feel comfortable going up to the people we’ve met and asking that; and if Pastor Dan had anybody in mind I’m sure he would’ve said something. God knows where we need to be and if He wants us to be in a campground for the night we need to be okay with that. He has a plan, we just don’t know it yet.” “I’m okay with a campground too but I just think we should ask.” “Well maybe I’ll do that son but for now I’m trying to wait on the Lord and follow His lead.” “But that doesn’t mean we can’t ask…” “Son, if you really want to ask, why don’t you ask God.” 

I’d asked one of the men we’d met before the service if we could take some of the leftover fish with us and he was happy to let us have all we wanted. So when things appeared to be winding down I walked over to the food tables to see how if there was any fish was left. As I stood looking over the food, on the other side of the table stood a lady getting her crockpot together to go home. I’d seen this lady earlier and we’d exchanged warm smiles. So this time we smiled at each other again. Then she said, “Hi. Is this your first time here?” “Yes it is. I’m biking across the country with my two sons and we’ve stopped here to worship with you.” “Wow. That’s amazing. Where do you live? From where are you coming and where are you going? And where do you sleep?” I appreciated her interest and answered her questions. “[As regards sleeping] it all depends. Sometimes we camp, sometimes we stay with people who’ll host us, and sometimes we stay at churches. Last night we stayed with Pastor Dan but I’m not sure where we’re staying tonight. They’re leaving for Kansas City so we can’t stay there tonight. I’ve put a call out to the pastor of Hillside Christian Church to see if we can stay the night at his church so we’ll see.” “Well I wish I could offer you a room at my house but my husband’s home sick with strep.” “Oh, that’s so kind of you.” “So what do you do for a living?” “I’m a Presbyterian pastor. I pastor the only Presbyterian and Reformed church on Cape Cod.” “Reformed Presbyterian? I read a book from a Reformed Presbyterian. She was an English professor who was a lesbian…” “Rosaria Butterfield,” I said. “Yes that’s her! She totally changed the way I think about the Bible. And I’ve since ordered the Catechism and a Psalter Hymnal. And we’ve changed the way we do the women’s Bible study because of her influence. In fact, I’ve given her book away to all my children.” What a blessed surprise to enjoy this common ground! I encouraged her to continue studying the Reformed Faith. “I wish we could have you stay at my place… I’ll see how my husband is feeling when I get home.” “Well, I’ll give you my number so you can call me if that would work out or if you think of anyone else in the church who might be able to help us. By the way, what’s your name? I’m James La Belle.” “I’m Amber Theobald.” We exchanged numbers and I left there thankful to be in God’s hands and confident that He had a place for us.

When Pastor Dan was ready to leave we rode with him back to his house and immediately began packing up. I wanted to get out of their way so they could enjoy the rest of their Sabbath and would have the time and space they needed to get ready for a trip to Kansas City. We said our goodbyes, thanked him for his kind hospitality, and headed outside to our bikes. It was lightly raining so we decided to put our rain jackets before heading out. “Where are we headed?” Forrest asked as we stood in Pastor Dan’s driveway donning our rain jackets. “I don’t know yet son. When the Lord gives me the address I’ll let you know. For now let’s head back into town.” No sooner had I said that did I receive a text from Amber. “James this is Amber Theobald from Son-Rise. My husband is still very sick, but we would like to get you and the boys a room at the Holiday Inn Express here in town. I called and there are rooms. Would you allow us to do this?” Wow. What blessed providence. As we rode off, the boys ahead of me–and ignorant of that text, I asked Siri for directions to the Holiday Inn Express. It was 1/2 mile up the road right on the bike trail, Hwy 38. I immediately took the lead and led the boys down the road, pulling into Holiday Inn Express. “What are doing here Daddy?” Forrest asked. “We’re staying here tonight.” “In a hotel? We’re paying for a hotel?” “No. This is what the Lord’s provided for us. Amber and her husband would love to have us at their place but since they can’t they’ve gifted us a night here.” We went inside and checked into our room, thankful for the Lord’s kind provision and praying that He would bless the Theobalds for their generosity. We had a place to rest, stay dry, and get a good night’s sleep. Thank you Lord. Thank you Amber. We sent Amber a picture of us in the hotel lobby with our bikes with a hearty ‘Thank you’ before heading off Monday morning. 

Aug 14

The hotel stay came with a nice breakfast as well so as soon as we were filled up we rode off, getting on the road just before 7:30. My target for the day was Houston, a 63 mile ride. It wasn’t that many miles so I was seriously considering going 23 miles further to Summersville. But, with all the hillls, it would involve quite a bit of climbing; so I planned to get us to Houston and evaluate from there whether we should go further or not. 

We reached Hartville by 10:00 and spotted a Subway. I figured we should stop to use the restroom, fill up our bottles, and grab some sandwiches for lunch. Once we were all set we headed down the road. It’s crazy how many hills we climbed. By the end of the day we’d climbed nearly 3000 ft. That’s like going over a Pass in the Rockies. But here’s the crazy part: we left Marshfield, at an elevation of about 1500 ft and ended up in Houston at an elevation of about 1200 ft. Did you get that? We dropped 300 ft in elevation while climbing 3000 ft! Now that’s a lotta hills! 

Despite the hills, we were making such good time that I was thinking we might make it to Houston around 1:30. So I thought we could push through lunch and eat there. But my left knee started hurting on the climbs so I decided to pull over at Fairview (15 miles west of Houston) for a break and lunch. We were there for about 40 mins, which gave me time to rest my knee and the boys time to play around on nearby haybails. I also called Chantry and caught up on how she and the girls were doing. When we were ready to go we noticed another cyclist riding in from the west. He stopped to say hi and we began talking. He could tell by our loaded bikes that we were touring so he asked for our origin and destination. When we told him he said, “So you’re traveling the whole TransAmerica highway!?” “Yep!” “Wow! That’s great. I live in Bend, OR so I know all about the trail but I’ve never met anyone who’s done it before.” “How about you? Where are you going?” “I’m just out doing a century ride.” “You should ride the TransAm. If you’re already a century rider you’ll have no problem…” We enjoyed a very nice conversation with Cole Farmer and exchanged pictures before he rode off ahead of us. I also sent him the link to our blog. Who knows, maybe he’ll trace our steps one day and visit all the wonderful people we’ve met along the trail 🙂 One thing that blessed me was how concerned he was for our welfare on the trial. He asked us twice how we were doing for nutrition and if we needed anything. I told him we were all set; but I know that if we needed anything he would’ve taken it out of his own pocket and given it to us. He was such a nice guy. Thanks Cole! May God bless you and your riding. 

The remaining 15 miles to Houston were getting more difficult as we went on. My knee was really bothering me. We definitely weren’t going to be able to go on to Summersville today. I had ho idea where we’d stay in Houston yet but I knew the Lord did. We passed through the small town of Bucyrus (about 3 miles west of Houston) and came upon Faith Fellowship Church. Every church parking lot we see along the way is empty because, of course, it’s not a Sunday. But this one had 5-6 cars in it so as we approached it Rocky asked if he could stop and ask to use the restroom. “Sure.” Maybe they can help us find a church in Houston to host us. Just as we approached the front door we saw a lady walking across the hallway. The door was locked so we knocked. She turned to see us and came to open the door. “Do ya’ll need something?” “Yes ma’am. We need to use the restroom if we could.” “Well, of course. Come on in, the men’s room is right here and the water fountain is right around the corner.” Miss Linda had the sweetest and warmest southern demeanor. I immediately felt comfortable around her. I told her I was a pastor and she asked me if I’d like to meet her pastor. She took me to the office and introduced me to Pastor Bill. We had a nice conversation about our bike trip. He was most happy for me that I was able to take such a trip with two of my sons. I asked him if he could suggest a church in Houston at which we might be able to find lodging for the night. “You can just stay right here. We have showers down stairs and we’ll take care of you. You won’t gain more than 4 miles going to Houston anyway.” “Wow. That’d be great. Thank you so much. I was hoping to get to Summersville today but my knee started bothering me a few miles back and I think we need to stop for the day.” I thanked him again and went to find the boys to tell them the news. 

Miss Linda had taken the boys downstairs to the “best water fountain in the church.” When I found them she asked, “Ain’t our pastor great!?” “Yes, he’s very nice. He offered for us to stay here at the church.” “Oh, that’s great. Where will you sleep?” Her granddaughter Morgan, who was with her, began pointing out the futons in the room in which we stood. “These will work fine,” I said. “I’ll take one and the boys will share the other.” Miss Linda didn’t think the boys would fit too well on the futon and quickly suggested that we come stay at her house. “I have a room with a real live bed,” she said. “Why don’t you come and stay the night at my house.” “Well, beds are better than couches. I think we’d like that. Thank you so much.” “Well great. We can have pizza for dinner and watch a movie about a solar eclipse.” I really wanted to get in a good number of miles today but with my sore knee and a kind hostess standing before me it seemed clear that God was telling us to stop and go with her. 

Linda called her husband Leon to come by and pick up our bikes so we wouldn’t have to bike the highway to her house. He showed up in a large horse trailer and, once again, we loaded our steel steeds into the back of an equestrian chariot. She took us to her house, a few miles northeast of Houston, and we enjoyed wonderful fellowship with both her, Leon, and two of their grandchildren, Morgan and Hunter. The kids played together on the trampoline and I visited with Leon and Linda. It has truly been a blessing to experience the joy and love of Christ with so many people across this vast country of ours. Wherever we’ve been, in every state, we’ve met other Christians who, though they begin as strangers, quickly become family by virtue of the bond of the Spirit of Christ. We share a common love for Jesus, a common commitment to God’s Word and church, and a common desire to serve God with our lives. It’s an amazing experience that we’d never have if we weren’t traveling across the country like this and living everyday dependent on God to lead and provide. Furthermore, it’s been such a blessing to see so many retired believers so actively serving the Lord doing what they can with what they have to serve others and show the love of Jesus to all. They stand ready to serve and open to whatever and whomever the Lord brings their way. Good lessons to be learned here. 

Aug 15

I woke up this morning to a knee still aching with pain–neither constantly nor terribly, but noticeably–noticeable enough to concern me. I had hoped to bike to Ellington today–69 miles. That was obviously out, especially with all the hills and Ozarks that stood between us and it. So what’s Plan B? Could we make it 23 miles to Summersville? I had my doubts. While Linda made breakfast I told her my knee was still bothering me and that I was thinking of only going to Summersville. “Do you know anyone there with whom we could stay?” “No I don’t. There’s not much in Summersville and there’s nothing in between here and there.” “Well I guess another option is seeing if someone with a pickup could take us to the bike hostel in Ellington. I could get a day of rest there before going on tomorrow.” “Okay,” Linda said thoughtfully. “I’ll give that some thought and we can ask Leon if he has any ideas.” When Leon came into the kitchen later and asked, “What’s your destination today?” I repeated what I’d told Linda. When I finished Linda said, “Well this is my idea. Leon, how about you take my Explorer to Springfield today and I’ll take your pickup and take a road trip to Ellington today.” “I guess we could do that,” Leon replied. “Boy, if that could work out, we’d sure be grateful.” And with that the plan was set. 

The ride to Ellington was a beautiful one and Linda and I enjoyed some wonderul conversation about the things of the Lord. Except for a detour we had to take around a road closure, we were able to drive most of the way along the TransAmerica trail. So even though we were skipping this section of the trail at least we were able to see it. The road was extremely hilly and windy–so much so that the boys were feeling queasy in the backseat. As we made our way to Summersville it was obvious that I would not have been able to bike those 23 miles today. Getting this ride to Ellington was a blessing because it brought us to a bike hostel in which I could get some rest and it also got us a little ways down the road so that we could at least make some progress towards the goal. 

Here in Ellington we’re enjoying the quiet and cool of the local library. The bike hostel is a very small studio of sorts with a small room for cots, a toilet, and a separate shower. It’s really basic but it’ll keep us dry, bug free, and it has AC. In addition, it’s right next to a large pavilion where we can hang out at a picnic table in the shade if we want. In fact, when we arrived and got unloaded we had a picnic lunch with Linda in the pavilion before saying goodbye. It’ll be nice to rest here. I pray my knee feels better tomorrow because we’re in the middle of the Ozarks now and we’re planning to be back on the bikes tomorrow. I don’t have my maps handy so I’m not sure where we’re headed tomorrow but I know we’ll have fun following the Lord every step of the way. 

Thanks for praying and thanks for following. 

Until next time… 🙂