Week 10-The Land of the ‘Zarks and Other Tales

Tonight, I am sitting in the basement of a Baptist church in western Kentucky. I am reclining on a couch, full bellied, cool and comfortable and tremendously thankful for their hospitality. In this moment of repose, I am trying to pare down this week’s adventures into a short blog post, but when I begin to speak about our trip it feels akin to trying to cork a whistling kettle.

I could tell you about crossing the Ozarks in Southern Missouri. How the full-body exertion required to climb those acute hills felt similar to child-birth. While climbing them, I lapsed into Lamaze breathing several times. The sweat poured down my cheeks and hung, beard-like off my chin. I begged for ice chips. I became nonverbal. I did think the Ozarks were incredibly beautiful, but I never need to do that again.

I could tell you about descending onto the Mississippi River Flood Plain after the Ozarks. How the land flattened out before us, beckoning us to come, coast along and relax along the wide, muddy river. How we rode up on levees and looked down on miles of farm fields and flooded forests filled with frogs. How we idly watched 1/4-mile long barges slowly maneuvering up and down the river. The pull to continue south with the the Mississippi proved too much, and it put us into a contented, self satisfied stupor. We rode for hours with a glorious tailwind before we realized we had missed our turn to the east by 15 miles. The ride back up the river was not as much fun.

But instead, I will tell you about last night. Oakley and I were finishing up a 74-mile day. Evening was coming and we found ourselves on a back road on the Illinois/Kentucky border (the Illinois side of the Ohio River) with no idea where to go. The campsite that was supposed to be there wasn’t. We were exhausted and losing our good humor. I began searching for a house in the hopes of asking someone if we could stay in their back yard.

From up ahead I sensed activity and decided to push on just a wee bit more. As we rounded the corner we were met by the answer to our hopes and dreams. There before us lay the small town of Rosiclare, population 350, the entirety of which were out in the street celebrating Fluorspar. What is Fluorspar you might ask? I soon discovered that it is a mineral found in many important things, including fluoride, that it’s the state mineral of Illinois, and that the town had been founded on its discovery beneath the soil many years ago. Rosiclare was once referred to as the Fluorspar Capital of the World.

There, by the side of the Ohio River, we soon forgot our aches and pains and ate fried food, lemon shake-ups, and funnel cake as we watched the town’s bike parade, pet parade, golf cart parade, and street dance party, complete with red, blue, and green spinning disco lights. The party went late into the night. Way past our bedtime.

As Oakley and I crawled into our tent and nestled into our sleeping bags in the Rosiclare city park by the side of the Ohio River, in the midst of all the other Fluorspar revelers, we both felt tired and contented. This is what our trip is all about. Who knows what will happen tomorrow.

Oaks will write his blog in the next few days…he is tired!