La Belles on Wheels

That’s what I’m calling this trip, Bosber Rombos, because I’ll be going from Boston, to Berlin, to Rome, and then back to Boston. Pretty creative, eh?

So far so good. I caught the 2:45 bus from Exit 6 and by 5:45 was on the backside of the security checkpoint in Terminal E. By 6:15 Schylie’s friend, Christie, landed on a flight from Charleston and we met up by 7PM for dinner. We should start boarding by 9:10 for a 9:40 take-off so we’re just hanging out charging our phones and catching up on email.

As I was checking in at the British Airways desk, the lady helping me (Kseniya) sas very nice. She said, “And you’re in a middle seat?” “If I could get out of that…” That’s when the couple standing at the counter next to me busted out laughing. Kseniya gave a hearty smile that communicated both understanding and sympathy for my plight and then said, “Where would you like to sit!?” “What do you have?” I asked. “I can give you whatever you want.” Really!? “I’d really love an exit row.” “Your new seat is 26H. And I’ve given you an aisle seat on the flight from London to Berlin.”

Just like that? Wow! I had tried to change my seat online before leaving the house but the schematic said there were none available. So you can imagine how surprised and delighted I was. I may have skipped from the counter to security–had not I feared getting caught.

We’re nearly ready to board. It’s a nearly 7 hour flight to London and then after the connecting flight we should arrive in Berlin just before 2PM tomorrow where Schylie will be eagerly waiting to welcome us.

I’ll keep you posted.

Dr. J

 

 

It’s been a year since we left Astoria, OR on our bicycles to cross America via the TransAmerica Bicycle Trail. We left on the morning of June 14 and arrived in Yorktown, VA on the afternoon of Aug 31. The memories flooding our minds right now are so many and so precious. The beautiful sites. The amazing landscapes. The long roads. The hard uphills. The awesome downhills. The conversations. The people.

So many wonderful people. We remember you all so fondly. The kindness you showed us along the way made our journey what it was. Some of you fed us when we were hungry. Some of you opened your homes and took us in for a night when we needed a place to stay. Some of you gave us water when we were thirsty. Some of you brought joy to our hearts by a passing conversation, a sweet smile, a cheer and a hoorah to keep going. Each state we crossed had its own beauty, its own set of challenges, and its own precious memories.

We write this post today to say thank you. Thank you to all of you who made the most memorable of trips possible. We will never forget it and we will always treasure the time it gave us together. And thank you especially to our church family (Presbyterian Church of Cape Cod), who prayed for us so fervently and faithfully until we all arrived safely home. I remember our first night on the trail as we were conversing with some fellow cyclists at a campground in OR. In the face of an oncoming massive storm forecast for our 2d & 3d days on the trail, I was thinking to myself, “What in the world was I thinking!?” But I remember the comfort and peace it gave me to say to the other cyclists, “We’ll be alright. We’ve got a whole church of people praying us home.” Thank you so much for those prayers. We made it. Sometimes I can’t believe it; but we made it.

I can’t wait to take another bike tour. It’ll be quite a while before I can set out on a 4,228 mile trip… but I’m thinking of riding to Philadelphia in September. We’ll see!

Thank you,

James, Forrest, and Rocky

Anyone who’s been on a long journey knows how sweet it is to finally come home. Even if the journey was awesome and the places visited were extraordinarily beautiful or fun, as Dorothy said, there’s no place like home.

But it was more than a home we’d left when we started our journey across the country on bicycle, we’d left our family and our church–both more dear to us than anything else in all the world. Therefore it was these that we longed to see; and see them we did 🙂 Continue reading “Home sweet home.”

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… 🙂