Current-ly

Defiance – Portland, MO

The biking on the Katy Trail? It is pretty. Lots of time there is a sheer stone face on one side and the Missouri River on the other. Throw in some signs commemorating various aspects of the Lewis & Clarke Expedition, a few trail towns with some occasional amenities, and it’s a pretty nice experience. But it is dead flat, straight, and limestone. Really not that much to say about the riding. 

We agreed that another half day of the trail and we’ll be ready for the roads and some variability again. 

But that doesn’t mean that there was nothing to report on today. 

After four states of barely seeing another biker of any kind, we spent the day chatting with a whole host of people biking the Katy Trail. We had never heard of it before Eric H clued us in last week – but I guess it’s a world famous trail, with people coming from as far away as Japan and Germany to bike here. 

Just today we met people from Madison, Wisconsin, Kansas City, and California, among other places. As you would expect with bikers, they’re all great people. Kind of our tribe I guess . . .

So that was fun. 

Diana found a place for us to finish today in Portland (Missouri) – called the River’s Edge Campground. She was excited because River’s Edge might mean that there was an opportunity for swimming. 

Once we arrive I’m scrounging for firewood and setting up camp, and Diana’s off to the Missouri. 

Now, to properly tell this story we have to back up to yesterday afternoon, when we first started on the Katy Trail. We stop to read one of the Lewis & Clarke interpretative signs along the river – about how the expedition stopped to camp at this very spot . . . and I point out how impressed I am with the current. 

Fast forward to this afternoon again. 

I head down to the river and, sure enough, Diana is still down there – but, unlike normal Diana, she’s a little shaken up. 

“I almost died,” she tells me, as she points at the river. 

There’s a stone jetty going out, and Diana explains that she swam out past the jetty – probably with the idea of swimming across the river and back (nothing like a mile or so swim after a 60+ mile bike ride . . .). 

The second she left the protection of the jetty the current grabbed hold of her. 

“I tried to swim with all my might but the current was just sweeping me away. Fortunately, I was just barely able to lunge and grab a rock – and then I had to use every ounce of my strength just to hold on . . .” (The jetty turns to run parallel with the current there – so fortunately there were some rocks to grab onto . . .)

”I barely grabbed one – otherwise I’d probably be in St. Charles by now.” 

St. Charles is about 50 miles back down the river – toward where the Missouri runs into the Mississippi – just shy of St. Louis. My assessment: Diana’s probably right. Without those rocks to grab she’d be on her way to New Orleans . . . Because there’s NOBODY on the Missouri. 

(Side note – These rivers down here all seem to flood on a regular basis. The good thing about that is that there is no development near the rivers because, I suppose, any development would just get wiped away by the frequent flooding. But the bad thing is that if you get swept into the current there is no one sitting out on their veranda waiting to see you go by . . .)

After that Diana decided to stay in the relatively safe waters closer to shore. After swimming myself I’ll say that the water is surprisingly refreshing – and I’ll add that even in the “safe” waters nearer to shore it is pretty obvious that there is a lot going on in that river. And it’s not like I said there was a strong current yesterday . . .

I guess I might have to start doing lifeguard duty . . . Are there any correspondence courses one could take while biking? Do you have to know how to swim well to be a lifeguard? Or is it enough just to be super handsome and strong? 

That excitement over, we had another great campfire dinner. Italian sausage with toasted pretzel buns, barrel aged crisp sauerkraut, really good corn-on-the-cob, and an Asian slaw salad. Really learning the secrets of controlling the fire with a little squirt of water now and then . . . I guess if I can’t get certified as a lifeguard I can for sure get a campfire cooking merit badge from the Scouts . . .

One other note . . . With all these bikers – some of whom are camping like we are – we are able to compare notes a little on equipment choices. 

Amidst all the excitement of our swimming it could almost be lost what was happening back at camp. Two other bikers showed up soon after us. First off, it’s 90 degrees and humid, and they have long sleeve pants and shirts on. Then their bikes . . . FULLY loaded. And I mean fully loaded. 

I chatted with them a bit. 

“So happy we have our cots with us. They’ve been so nice I haven’t even used the inflatable mattress yet.”

At this point I’m having a little PTSD as it is bringing me back to Boundary Waters trips with my Dad – who insisted on a similar array of pleasantries whenever we went. 

I come back later – like an hour or so later – after I post my last blog entry – only to see two gi-normous tents in the process of being set up. Each tent has its own luxurious vestibule, complete with a floor tarp for the vestibule and a lounge chair looking out toward the river. 

These are the fellows from California. And they know how to go in style. They are using e-bikes. But even at that I’m wondering how they can go more than 10 miles without a re-charge. Between them and their gear there must be at least 300 pounds on each bike. No joke. It’s impressive. 

I guess Diana talked to them and in exchanging pleasantries asked them what they were going to do for breakfast tomorrow. They pointed at the local bar and grill – which opened at 10:30 a.m. 

“Oh, we’re having breakfast there,” they tell her.

”But aren’t you afraid of missing the best biking of the day?” she asked. “When it’s a bit cooler.”

”Well, it takes us about two hours to break camp so there’s no way we could get going earlier.”

!!!!!

Now, all that said, these two are 77 and 74 years old. So it’s pretty cool that they are out here. 

But wow, that’s a lot of stuff . . .

Another 30 miles on the Katy Trail to Jefferson City – the capital of Missouri (a fact that I think only my mom and google know . . .), and then we turn south to head toward the Ozarks, Little Rock, the “real” South, and our friends Gunnar and Maria.