1st Leg Complete

Riding through the abject poverty of Eastern Kentucky has been sobering; I have never seen such squalor and obvious strife in the lives of Americans. Seeing the way the land has been raped by coal-mining hasn't much improved my sentiments toward the area, either.

I awoke Tuesday in the flea-baggiest of flea-bag motels, where my cohorts and I set out on a 63-mile ride featuring several significant climbs. The first two proved no problem, but 95 degree heat in the afternoon combined with jungle-rotting humidity had me, on the third climb, wondering if I wasn't on the planet Dagobah; sadly, I met no Jedi Masters along the way.

While, waiting out a rain shower at a diner, Mike and I met another chap from the UK, a fellow called Lawrence out of Birmingham. The three of us reunited with Irv and Barb at the Knott County Historical Society, where an interesting fellow did our laundry and gave us iced tea and allowed us to camp in his yard for the sum of $20.

Weathering the night was pleasant, although we awoke to a steady rain. The precipitation actually made Wednesday's 68 mile ride, punctuated by 5 or 6 steep climbs, much more bearable. Nevertheless, the sogginess has me as chapped as a Hell's Angel.

Either way, I have completed the first leg of my journey and have resolved to take a few days off in order to attend the wedding of two friends (I'll see many of you there) and my family reunion (others of you there); my journey will resume in the company of a few pals on Sunday.

Signing off for now,
John Z.

P.S. I am absolutely convinced that riding a bicycle is the best possible way to see the country. Even the worst days seem to bring warm feelings by evening time.