It wasn’t the best of night’s sleep due to our proximity to the road. The road itself wasn’t the problem, it was the rumble strip that someone in their infinite wisdom had added to the road, resulting in every vehicle that passed us making considerably more noise than if it had just driven past.
Deborah did most of the packing while I attempted to complete yesterday’s post, catch up on a few emails, then try to find a data signal to post it.
The day started off a little cloudy for a change, so even though it was still warm it wasn’t as intense as it had been for the last few days.
The road toward Albatross was as straight as a straight thing, with very little up and down movement either. In fact the first 20 miles of the day were fast (for us), averaging 12 mph, and proved quite boring. We sped along, one behind the other, walking a tightrope between the rumble strip and the edge of the road, a strip of flat tarmac no wider than 30cm.
The road itself remained quite busy. As has been been the case for the past two weeks, when there isn’t oncoming traffic the passing vehicle generally moves to the far lane to pass, however, if there is oncoming traffic most vehicles don’t slow down and just hammer through the available gap, which is a wee bit frightening when it’s an 18 wheeler truck 3ft from your left elbow.
We met another couple of tour cyclists about halfway between Albatross and Carthage, Zak and Duncan. They had left LA in early August and were heading to their home in Chicago, planning to be there in about the same number of days as it has taken us so far. Only our third Route 66’ers in two weeks, albeit going in a different direction.
Tortoises are also starting to move up the roadkill leader board, plus a frequently mangled mess has now been named as a possum (thanks Miles). I’m surprised dogs haven’t made an appearance on the leader board yet as it’s becoming more common for dogs not to be tied up and free to chase unsuspecting cyclists. That said, we are suspecting cyclists and have an anti-dog weapon up our sleeve, or at least in our handlebar bag. One press of the button on our ultra-sonic dog deterrent has resulted in the pursuing dog stopping in its tracks, so no nibbled ankles just yet.
We reached the outskirts of Carthage, which was an option for an early day, but it was just a little too early, so after brief brain freezer we pushed on to Joplin.
The roads through Carthage had seen better days, as had the roads onward to Joplin. The Route 66 is clearly deteriorating fast and unabated here.
The cycle into Joplin was along the Frisco Greenway Trail, then through a newly developed part of town, which we guess is evidence of the city rebuild after the devastation category 5 tornado that hit the city in May 2011, killing 158 people and causing $3.2B of damage in its 38-minute reign of terror.
We checked in at our cheap as chips Super 6 for the night, then headed out for dinner. The choice wasn’t spectacular, but we eventually settled for the Golden Corral buffet. The walk to the Golden Corral was more dangerous than any cycling we have done to date having to cross a four-lane road bridge in heavy traffic without a pavement to get there. The lack a pavement in the US is as much a mystery as the lack of wood used in the building of toilet cubicle doors!
Back at the hotel without being run over and we appear to be in a ghetto, with load music echoing around the hotel complex and ‘brothers’ hanging out on every corner. Not intimidation, just a little too loud for a couple of knackered cyclists.
We are going to attempt to sleep, but without hotel security, I have a feeling it’s not going to be the best of night’s sleep.