Potosi to Lesterville (53.5 Mi) to Cherokee Pass (49.5 Mi) to Cape Girardeau (55 Mi) - 3 Days

Well, here I am in Cape Girardeau, taking a well earned day off to clean up, tune up the bike, rest my legs and focus on the next part of this journey. 486 miles since Carla left me off in Muscatine 12 days ago!
The past three days have been a combination of great adventure, pure physical test, living with heat, wind, dogs, a cow, really, really nice people and some doubts about my sanity and my ability to complete the job.
Potosi to Lesterville was a day with an early start, a hill just out of town that just about killed me, lots of rollers with an occasional mutha hill just to remind me not to get too cocky.  Let me show you a few of the images from Potosi to Lesterville.

When I stay in a motel, this stuff clutters up the corners while the bike itself is usually on a direct line between the bed and the bathroom. Cool except in the middle of the night when I forget its there!
This country is what makes all this so peaceful and worth the trip;

More green than you've ever seen, with an occasional glimpse of white.

My home for a month, fully loaded.

The following picture is the way you want to see all dogs on the trip! Tired of barking and walking away. Not sure why the picture is out of focus. May have something to do with hand shaking or just tired of holding camera waiting for the dog to finish with me.  For the record, the dog finally turned toward home when his owner called out his name, "Trouble"! Just my luck to run into a dog named Trouble!

The ride from Potosi was long and hot. Below was a beautiful creek that I crossed 3 times during the ride up and down, finally dumping into what would become the Black River, which downstream became the center of a great recreational park for water sports; canoeing and fishing. I really just wanted to jump in...

It's quiet out here. Too quiet sometimes. 
We all wind up in some place like this, so better get done with the important things rather than the trivial.
In Lesterville, I stayed in the Log Cabin Inn. Very neat, across the street from a Roadhouse. I sat exhausted on that bench for the better part of an hour, just recouping from the ride, watching trucks come and go, watching the growing crowd as the day got longer.

Finally I got up the strength, went and took a long hot shower, dressed and walked over.

As I walked up, a really nice lady, Kathy, later to find out she owned the place, said to me, "We been watchin' you watch us for the better part of an hour. We were trying to decide if you'd come over or just sit there for the rest of the day".
Well, I've got to tell you, I ordered a bbq beef sandwich and a 32 oz. Bud, and then a salad, and then another sandwich! There was a crowd of never less than 20 people sitting around at tables outside Lenny's Roadhouse and always pickup trucks coming and leaving with 24 packs of beer loaded on. There were bikers, farmers, constructions workers, staff and me. It went on until just about dark at 8:00 when I finally got off the bench and made my way back over to the log cabin. What a great night.

This is Kathy. She and her husband Denny have owned the place for 13 years. Business seems good, the staff and all concerned could not have been friendlier. A great stop along the way. If you're ever near Lesterville, MO, stop in and enjoy the hospitality.
Next day, Saturday, off for Cherokee Pass. The longest and most difficult day because of the geography, heat and distance. I have to confess, that at about mile , 35, I just couldn't go another foot. I stuck my thumb out and the first truck by, screeched to a stop, agreed to take me to Cherokee Pass, helped me load my bike in the back and off we went! I truly believe that if he had not stopped, I would still be there, even tody, trying to get into Cherokee Pass.
Instead, we talked about our common time spent in the Marine Corps, both at Camp Pendleton and Twenty Nine Palms, CA. He, 25 years after me. Again, he could not have been friendlier and he came along in the nick of time!  Thank you Larry and good luck to you, your wife and 3 kids.

Larry dropped me off across the street from my room for the night.
Finally, yesterday, after breakfast at the Cherokee Pass Restaurant, where they make up in quantity what they may lack in quality, I was off for Cape Girardeau.
What is really significant about that is that the Ozarks, where I've been for the past week, begins to flatten out and the mutha's become much more manageable and the ride truly a joy. Lots of long downhill coasting and for only the second time, the wind at my back! What a difference that wind makes when it is pushing me up hills or across valleys instead of standing in the way and gusting in my face! (A mix of metaphors, but who cares?).
It was early Sunday morning and my attempt to find a Catholic church had been fruitless. The closest one was more than 10 miles away, although if I had been looking for United Church of Christ (dozens and dozens), Baptist (Also dozens of every stripe), Methodist (fewer) or Congregational only one), I could have gone to Church. It was not to be, so just a few miles out of town, I stopped for a few minutes in a beautiful and quiet place and thanked God for all the blessings I have and the opportunity to enjoy this experience.

Quiet, shady and just me and God. 
Further along the route, later in the morning, I came across this cow, standing in the roadway, right on the yellow line. By the time I got the camera out, for who would believe such a story without proof, he/she/it had turned to walk away.

I stopped at the house in the background to let the owner know his cow was out of the pasture, thinking I would want to know that if it were my cow. Perhaps because it was 8:00 on a Sunday morning, or it wasn't really his cow, the owner yelled something through the door that the #$%##*% cow belonged to one of his neighbors and why in the hell was I yelling outside his house!  Sorry pal, just trying to be neighborly.
Look out there. No more mountains except those which lay below me. That means downhill!

And furher along, the hills are alive with yellow!

Towards the end of the day, almost success! Just 4 more miles to Cape Girardeau.

After taking the picture, I had to decide if it were me or the sign that was leaning. Maybe both of us...
The next two pictures are kinda scarey, but in the spirit of sharing all of this with you..

My feet take a beating. Tan line, dirt, cuts, bruises and blisters,
And so does the rest of me.

Man, I look like I took the ugly pill. 2 of them.
It is amazing what a long hot shower, a shave, a nap and then a good dinner does to reinvent the ugly one!  Last night asleep again as so many other nights at about 9:00and today a day of rest.
I have ridden 486 miies since leaving Muscatine almost two weeks ago. I've ridden through mountains and over hills I would have told you I could not have done. I've met some really wonderful folks who live a simpler lifestyle out here, but all of whom treated me as though I was a neighbor - well, with the exception of the cow guy.
This morning off to the Cape bike shop where I met Patrick Koetting who replaced my brake pads and aligned my front tire, and met a couple of customers, Rick Brindell who showed me the way to this library and introduced me to the librarian, and finally Brian Gallmeyer, who is himself on an 800 mile tour through Missouri and Kansas.
Today a day of rest before setting off tomorrow back across the Mississippi and within a couple of days, into Kentucky. It appears on my maps that for the next several nights after leaving here I'll be camping, so the blog will be updated when I next get to a library or motel that allows me to use the computer.
For those of you who entered the contest, I think 4 people, the answer, in the judge's final opinion about the most frequently seen color for pickup trucks out here is....RED. However, since the number of entrants was so few, I believe the treasury has enough money in it to reward all of you with the candy bar of choice. Your prize will be delivered when I get home.
Take care all. The phone calls from home are really a treat. I got to speak with my granson Wyatt and his dad, my son Steve yesterday, his brother Matt and his sister, Meg. Made the day! Bye all.