We woke to the sound of Miles taking the Denae and Alex to school, so we had clearly slept beyond the planned 7 am wake-up call, although as we hadn’t set an alarm it’s no surprise the plan failed miserably.
It didn’t take much to pack up and pile the gear on the front steps. Miles invited us in for breakfast of pancakes, veggie sausages, maple syrup and coffee. This was our first day that we woke without a clue where we would be sleeping as there is no accommodation of any description showing up between Springfield and Carthage, the next town some 60 miles away. As we decided on a slower day to take in a few sites and have time to stop and chat to people, Carthage wasn’t an option.
We said our goodbyes to our amazing hosts, Miles and Lexi and headed for the Missouri State University campus, just a couple of blocks away, as recommended by Miles. The campus was so pretty we found a table beside a fountain in what appeared to be the centre of the campus, in an attempt to create some semblance of a plan for the day and finish yesterday’s diary due to the number of concerned emails received… Thanks for your concerns, but sometimes there just isn’t enough hours in the day to enjoy the reason we are doing this AND write about it!
We headed off for a brief tour of the town. There were a few Route 66 attractions but decided to keep it short and sweet, so first stop was the Route 66 visitor centre to check out our selection. We couldn’t take our bikes inside, so the long description of all the sites in town, and those between here a Joplin, became like adult talk from Charlie Brown in our heads as all we could really think about was our bikes on the pavement outside. That said, Barbara, our tour guide as very sweet and gave us a wooden Springfield casino chip as a memento.
We took a route out of town that took is passed a few of the attractions, but decided that wandering around a newly built museum or around a shed of old cars was not for us, so headed for the city limits.
We were immediately out in the countryside with rolling hills rather than the mini Himalaya from the days before. Barbara had told us the temperature was about 20oF hotter than usual for this time of year, which was being felt this morning without a wisp of cloud to be seen.
The road was a little busier than we had experienced over the previous few days, with cars and trucks appearing to favour this section of road over the I-44 for some reason. Not wishing to fight for road dominance with trucks that had tyres that weighed in at more than us, cycling became a balancing act between the rumble zone on the edge of the main road and where the tarmac fell away into the dirt.
Apart from a few houses and the occasional shack, there was little to mark the passing from one town to another as laid out on the map.
Just before Halltown, I could see a bike coming up behind, with the unique sound of a Harley as it got closer. As it came alongside the helmet was the first thing I recognised, before the gleaming red of the bike itself… it was Charles Sheffield, the Texan gentleman that we had first met way back at the old gas station in Dwight Illinois and again at the Bunyan Giant in Atlanta Illinois. He had seen us cycling through Springfield and shouted over, but as I was not expecting anyone to be shouting my name it had not registered. It seems at the time I had been cycling over the exact spot some cowboy had shot some other cowboy, but Charles wasn’t fast enough on the draw with his camera to take the shot.
We talk for over half an hour, including an introduction to his wife over the phone back in Houston, before the heat of the day got to us and we needed to part company again, likely for the last time on this journey, as Charles was heading to Oklahoma today, a city over a week away for us. We were sad to see Charles ride off in the knowledge that our Route 66 journey together was at an end, but we do hope to see him again one day in more comfortable surroundings.
Out of nowhere and in the middle of nowhere a Dollar General store appeared with the promise of shade and something cold to drink. While I thought the half a gallon of milk, quarter a gallon of ice-cream and 2 litres of Dr Pepper was too much, it went down a treat. While enjoying the cold intake and shade outside of the main entrance, a battered old truck pulled up with a lady and two gents in the front bench seat. One of the guys, Bob, stop outside for a chat while the other two went in for a bag of sugar. I can’t recall the ancestry combination, but something like German, Dutch and Irish, but now he was a proud self-proclaimed Missouri Redneck. If Charles won first prize for the surprise of the day, these guys won it for the most interesting characters of the week!
We arrived at the Sinclair Gas Station in Gay Partita to a welcome from the owner George, a more personal meeting than usual as Charlie’s had clearly told him Bob and Deborah would be arriving on cycles shortly. George offered us cold drinks in a pavilion behind the gas station with a simple tip box for payment.
The gas station has an amazing collection on Route 66 memorabilia, with it being in his family’s ownership for the past 40 years, Geoge taking it over 4 years ago when his parents passed away.
Another visitor to the gas station, David, turn up in a open-top sports car that the same time as us. David was relatively local, out for a drive to try out his new camera, so the perfect person to take a snap of us two without me needing to find the tripod. David even suggested we could have stayed at his four-bedroom home if it wasn’t in the wrong direction to where we were heading, although noting how rough and smelly we were I wouldn’t blame him for making that offer only after determining it was in the wrong direction.
We still had no idea where we would be sleeping for the night as we saw a service station appear in the distance. Thinking we could buy something then ask if we could pitch up outside, as we pulled up onto the forecourt it was clear the place was out of business. We wandered around it, finding abandoned motel rooms in the back, some still with the sheets on. It seemed an odd place, which just didn’t feel right, so opted not to stay.
As it was after 5 pm at this point the search for a bed for the night wasn’t going as well as we would have hoped. Just as we pulled up at the crossroads to rejoin the main road we spotted a picnic area diagonally across the from the service station. It was perfect.
We chilled out for an hour or so, chatting to Marcus, a Harley riding trucker that was out for an evening ride. He lived 40 miles away, so couldn’t talk long as the sun was starting to set, but did offer to go get some food for us if we were struggling. We thanked him, but declined his generous offer, with the knowledge that we had crisps, wraps and peanut butter to feast on!
As the sunset, we set up camp to a chorus from the local insect population and light provided by the most amazing night sky and the occasional firefly.
Finding food seems to be the hardest part.
Another free to lose suggestion- wet wipes or equivalent for quick clean ups. Suggested to me for Nepal. Also dry shampoo or micro cleanser – presume you are using quick dry clothes.
Safe travels!
Finding food at the right time so we aren’t carrying it is the problem. It’s fixable with a little more planning. We aren’t using lycra cycle clothes, but the hiking gear that we have is in the main quick drying. No wet wipes as disposal is an issue, but plenty of antibacterial hand wash.
I just noticed that Deborah and Cindy might have the same watch.
Who cares. Just noted.
Suunto Core… not her usussl one, but this one doesn’t need a charge every nught!