Bobbing along to meet The Legend – Day 38

Date: Wednesday 15th September   

Route: Bismarck, Missouri – Murphysboro, Illinois

Distance: 99 miles

Total climb: 5377 ft

Net climb: -616 ft

Even after an Applebees the previous night, breakfast pride kicked in at the hotel buffet. Once we had over-indulged, we were couriered by Tammy and Team Stockham back to Bismarck, for the day’s ride. We spent four miles battling debris down the hard shoulder of one of the main routes into Farmington, before heading off onto quieter roads that threaded their way through some national parkland.

Once back in Farmington, we were pleased to see beyond the generic strip that provided our needed accommodation and feeding station the night before. The town centre was fun to roll through, passing book shops, music shops and the town’s specialist accommodation for cyclists – a former jail, converted by the locals.

From Farmington, a lengthy stint took us to lunch in St Mary, passing vineyards and running along a pink road surface. Jay was disheartened to find the map inaccurate in its suggestion of services 8 miles earlier at Ozora. However, his mood quickly improved when we wandered into a rather hostile looking bar, in almost complete darkness. It had all the ticks we needed – gambling machines, self-serving punters watching daytime television, a brash bar lady and food. We scoffed burgers and BLTs, bananas and cookies, preparing for the afternoon. Had there been tins of spinach, I’m convinced they’d have gone too, since we were heading towards the home of Popeye.

A few miles out of St Mary, we wheeled onto the sun-drenched flood plains of the Mississippi. A sprint over the bridge spanning this mighty river took us to Illinois and Chester, aforementioned home of Popeye. Missouri had been an enjoyable state, with rollercoaster roads, stunning scenery and, in the main, fun people.

After hauling up the hill into Chester and onto a new plain, we rolled for many miles, discussing Arsene Wenger’s contributions to the Premier League and admiring the tall crops in the fields. We stopped briefly for a soda at a gas station, before fitting lights and donning reflective gear for another night ride into Murphysboro.

On arriving in Murphysboro, someone shouted a request for a wheelie from a parked car. Given the recent issues I’ve had with spokes, I declined but was delighted with the interaction and the optimism that I could possibly lift Rosie’s front wheel with all the weight in the front panniers.

Our route took us, quite literally, around the houses in Murphysboro, before reaching the centre. I’m sure this is interesting in daylight and adds to the trip, but it gets a little edgy at night in certain neighbourhoods. We were therefore delighted to reach the ever-safe haven of McDonalds in town (and not just for the cookies and milkshakes). Whilst waiting for Team Stockham to arrive, we were informed by locals that Murphysboro was in the process of its annual apple festival. There was a fair in town, processions were scheduled for the weekend, bands were playing, cider was flowing and I understand there may even have been some apple bobbing at some point. It was a shame we arrived so late and would be leaving early the following morning.

That said, we stumbled across another M’boro gem, after a quick change at our motel… 17^th Street Bar & Grill. Our restaurant for the evening, chosen by pure chance, was the home of ‘The Legend’, Mike Millls – 4 times barbecue world champion and grand champion. His daughter served us some superb food and Mike himself popped in at one point. He had signed photos covering the walls from various celebrities (including Jerry Springer) all of which helped to justify his decision to sign off his menus, ‘The Legend’.

Our breakfast was sorted for the morning as well, with Mike’s daughter providing a strong recommendation in Carbondale for us. Illinois had started well.

FP