Day 24

Monday morning, 9 AM. The start of another work week. And where am I? I'm sitting atop a granite boulder in the middle of Pickle Creek. I'm seeing the morning sun light up the clear blue sky, and watching the patterns of brightness and shadow on the rushing waters as the light filters down through the branches of the tall pine and oak trees. And I'm eating a cream cheese Danish. Is this heaven?

First, back to last night. The skies had completely cleared up, and I had the best stargazing of the whole trip. Before going to sleep, I listened to Naervaer's "Skiftninger" album (the ultimate outdoors-at-night music) while staring up at the sky. It was pretty chilly out, which was actually nice because it meant I could fully get in my sleeping bag and be comfortable, rather than doing some kind of half-and-half thing and adjusting throughout the night. When I woke up at 6:50 after "sleeping in", it was 61 degrees in the tent and 52 outside.

And as the sun came up, I discovered a morning as perfect as yesterday's was terrible. Since I knew today would be an easy day, I took the opportunity to explore some of the trails of the state park. There's actually a 10 mile loop through a wilderness area, so I didn't see all there was to see, but the parts I saw were great. Cliffs, rocks, creeks, trees, the whole deal. All in a relatively untamed setting, meaning there were no fences or walkways (except over the streams) and few trail markings. So it's an all-around top-notch state park.

After the refreshing walk through the woods (and a tasty Danish), I slowly packed up camp, and got on the road around 10:15. The sky was an almost unbelievable deep blue (I had to keep checking to see if my sunglasses were just making it look that way), and I hardly needed my pressure-sensitive altimeter to tell me that a high-pressure system had moved in (today it read 630 feet at a point that read 770 feet yesterday).

I got on SR 32 and headed northeast for a while. Just before reaching I-55, I stopped, checked my email and uploaded my journal entry (there was no cell phone service in the campground), and checked the maps. My destination tonight was my friend Denise's house just south of St. Louis. If I took the most direct route, it would be about 60 miles, and even with my late start, I'd still be there pretty early in the afternoon. And I wanted to enjoy the day some more before entering the urban area. So I decided to go a bit out of my way, and headed east to Ste. Genevieve, a small town on the Mississippi that was one of the first French settlements in the region, and has several historical houses from the colonial period. I didn't go inside any of the houses/museums, but I rode around town and then stopped at a cafe for lunch. I got a seat outside, and there was a couple from California who like me were wondering why in the world all those people were sitting inside on such a perfect day. And they were from the Napa region, so they probably know a thing or two about perfect days. I was hoping to get a good view of the river, but the historic district didn't seem to be centered on that area. Still a nice little town though.

I got out of there a little after 1:30, with only 24 miles showing on the odometer, when I'd normally have over 50 at that point. I got on US 61 and headed back west towards I-55, where the road then turns northwest and basically parallels the interstate. In fact, it crosses back and forth over and under the interstate several times, so I began thinking of I-55 as the "New" Tennessee River. I was a little suprised at how hilly the country continued to be that close to the river, and there was still a northwest wind blowing. So it was a fair bit of work, but with nicer weather it was so much easier than the day before. I think it's impossible to overestimate the effect the generally great weather has had on my trip. The big effect that only mildly-bad weather of the last two days had on the ride really drove that point home.

So there were a lot of miles on a lightly-travelled road (since most people would just take I-55). The suburbs began in Festus, where I stopped at a Dairy Queen at 4:30. With 27 miles to go from there, I called Denise to let her know I'd be showing up between 6:30 and 7:00. She mentioned that I should get there by 6:30, so for no particular reason I took that as a personal challenge. That means I did the last 27 miles without stopping (except for lights), and managed to arrive exactly at 6:30. So that was cool.

Sat down for outside for a bit and had a great beer straight out of the fridge (as opposed to a beer stuffed in a pannier for 10 miles). Got a shower, did my I-should-look-more-civilized trimming of the beard. Then it was off for some Bar-B-Que with Denise and Greg, both of whom I know from college. And then to complete the calorie-loading, we went to a frozen custard place. Yum.

Tomorrow is a day off, and tonight is a night in a big soft bed. I've camped for 7 straight days, which is the longest stretch of the trip, and of course the longest stretch in my life. While the change of pace will be nice, I've found that I really enjoy the camping part of the trip, and the ride just wouldn't be the same without it. That said, I probably won't be sneaking out to the back yard tonight.