Day 13- Tornadoes

44.5 miles- Bardstown to Buffalo, KY

Left the Smiths house early this morning to beat the pending severe thunder storms and tornadoes. An hour after checking into a cheap motel it started pouring and storming. I enjoyed two extremely comfortable and interesting nights with this close family that I will never forget.

Before it started storming I managed to visit Lincoln's birthplace and the Nancy Lincoln Motel. The "motel" was a group of small cabins used by visitors to the site over a hundred years ago.

On the road today I rode past a sign at the end of a driveway that read "Hagan's welding." Was thinking about stopping by to ask if they knew the Barbour family, but decided against it.

Day 12- A history of Bardstown

0 miles- Bardstown

- NEW PICTURES OF VA AND KY UP-

Took another day off to repair the legs and wait out the thunderstorms. This story might be a bit long, but is worth reading. I was put in touch with a couple of Bardstown locals, Don Barbour who in turn put me in touch with the Charles family. They have very graciously been having me for the past two nights while we discuss their upcoming two month trip, and I get some much needed rest.

Today Don took me around town, and told me an amazing story of family, slavery, and murder. His ancestors were from Orange County, Virginia. Of two brothers in the early 1800s, one inherited the Virginia farm while the other moved out to present day Kentucky to embrace the opportunities of a new government land grant. Don's great grandfather was part of this Kentucky-family. Shortly before the civil war, he freed his slaves, giving each an acre of land. J.R.T. Barbour, his son, Don's grandfather inherited the farm that was kept in the family.

One afternoon in the late 1800s a black man, presumably one of the freed slaves or his son, came to J.R.T. complaining that his neighbor's pigs had come onto his farm and eaten all the crops. He was upset that this left no food for his family for the winter. J.R.T. told him to calm down, lock up the pigs, call the sheriff, and the neighbor would have to pay for the crops. This was done.

The neighbor was Frank Hagan, and disliked J.R.T. Barbour's meddling in the affair. A a week later "Mammi," a black woman who lived with the Barbour family, was walking through town across Frank Hagan's land and disappeared. When her body turned up in a manure pile on Frank Hagan's land, the state court merely banished him from Kentucky.

Some time later J.R.T. was in his Law Office (sorry Don) when a friend warned him that Frank Hagan was back, and threatening his family. Several days after this warning, J.R.T. Barbour was at the train station in Brooks, KY when Frank Hagan came up behind him, grabbed his shoulder, and violently spun him around. J.R.T. reached into his pocket pulling out a four-cylinder pistol, and shot him dead. J.R.T. Barbour spent a year and half in a fifteen by fifteen foot jail house pictured below while the trial proceeded with tenuous jury selection process and change of venue from Jefferson to Bullet County.

After much research Don Barbour (pictured below) argues that the events at the train station differed, even among eye-witnesses. In his opinion either one could be true, but the situation certainly divided the community and is still remembered today.

Also today, toured the Old Virginia Kentucky home and the Heavenly Hills distillery where Evan Williams is aged. Probably the most amazing part was seeing the inside of the barrel storage facilities.

Day 11- Fuel Efficiency

93.1 miles- Berea to Bardstown, KY

Halfway through today a man pulled up and commented, "wow that looks fuel efficient!" I replied that it really was not if you considered all the food it takes to get me through a day. I argued his V8 Ram was far more environmentally friendly.

I spent most of the day checking my mirrors to see if the mountains were following me. They were not. It was with disbelief that I watched them fade into the distance.

A couple notes from yesterday. First, the town of Berea, KY is dry. This means only one thing- that students at Berea College must be very depressed. Second, I spent most of last night listening to my host play the most amazing folk I have ever heard. When I get to a computer I'll add an audio clip. She also told me about her trip from the South Carolina to Nova Scotia that was a combination of cycling and frieght train hopping- with a guitar and banjo strapped to the front wheel!

Most likely taking the day off tomorrow- and it seems I could not have picked a better place. Bardstown is home to several Bourbon distilleries, including Jim Bean and Makers Mark. If I do not write for several days it will not take a genius to figure out where I am.

Day 10- Back to farm country

93.9 miles- Hazard to Berea, KY

Another long day, but with a great destination. Berea is home Berea College, one of only three work-study colleges in the US, and the only one in which students pay no tuition. Admission standards are high, there is a minimum income to attend, and funding comes from endowment and alumni donations (demonstrating the success of their graduates). The campus is beautiful, red brick and big lawns and the students run everything from landscaping to food service to recycling. It was also the first college to educate blacks and whites together in the south before the civil war.

I am staying with two students, one spent a few years cycling and riding freight trains, the other is a writer/musician from Michigan whose accent is noticeably southern. (Apparently the accent just crept in over a few years.) They are the first ones along my route that I found on the warmshowers.org hosting site.

Was ecstatic to be out of coal country- big trucks and rock dust everywhere- and back into farm land- cows, falling down barns, and rolling hills. Unfortunately had to kick a particularly veracious dog in the face today as he nipped at my ankles.

Day 9- Coal Country

87.4 miles- Elkhorn City to Hazard

So much happens in a day it is hard to know where to begin or what to include. While leaving Elkhorn I ran into an old man who asked me where The Plains was. Someone I had spoken to yesterday had told him where the visitor in town was from. With great pride he showed me the walking stick that he had used in the Appalachian trail many years before. He then warned me of the cyclist who had come a week before me- he was in his 50s, coming from Florida, very strange, and looked like Charles Manson with white hair. That's a good reason to slow down.

Interesting note- apparently all the rivers and streams I see from now on flow to the Mississippi rather than the Atlantic.

So far Kentucky has been full of strip-mining, trailer homes, dogs that love to chase bikes, and climbs that are longer, steeper, and more challenging than anything so far.

Day 8- Welcome to Kentucky!

56.0 miles- Rosedale, Virginia to Elkhorn City, Kentucky

A short day that felt longer than it was. While leaving the church this morning I read the hostel guest book. A cyclist staying last year coming from the west wrote that Kentucky was the armpit of their ride. Already crossed the border and I am for the first time having a difficult time understanding people- and I cannot find a Kentucky selection in google translator. Accent aside, I have found the people here to be very nice.

The several big climbs today were worth the views at the top. For the first time feel like I am in THE mountains. The roads are still lined with dogwood, making thisprobably the best time of the year to come through. The traffic is minimal except for carefully slow coal trucks winding their way in and out of pits.

Day 7- Jefferson Nat. Forest, Old Va Creeper Trail and Hayter's Gap

79.3 miles- Rural Retreat to Rosedale

Today made me very glad I am taking this trip. Started off in Jefferson Nat. Forest with a climb of 1,000 feet, my highest point in the east at about 3,700 feet. At the top, after a chat with some Appalachian Trail hikers, I entered Grayson County, named after one of Virginia's first senators.

As I came closer to Damascus the landscape and upkeep of the houses made the ride spectacular. I coasted for miles with rivers to one side and sheer rock faces to the other. My path took me only a few miles from both the Tennessee and South Carolina borders.

I veered off the road a few miles after Konnarock to ride a four mile section of the Old Virginia Creeper Trail of packed gravel. Maybe a bit dangerous for the tires, but I could not resist what I had until today only heard about in the Old Crow Medicine Show song of the same name. Seeing stacks of ancient railroad pilons and crossing once vital steel bridges made the ride well worth the risk.

The challenge of the day came with Hayter Gap, a climb of 1,500 feet in less than 3 miles. I was relieved to find a beautiful church surrounded by dogwood trees welcoming transamerica cyclists to spend the night.