June 25 Crossing America

Hartville, MO – Ash Grove, MO.  Distance 72 miles, rode 62 miles
Total miles traveled to date 1,661 miles, ridden by bike 1,456.

After Gene and Gladys left last night, I discovered we had two more important visitors at Hartville Tommy Johns, an MS victim who lives in Fair Grove and James Rupehi a resident of Marshfield and committee member for our Mid America Ozarks Branch of NMSS.  James also has been following me on my website as well as having purchased a pair of my “NO MS” athletic socks.

L-R: Lee, Rachel, Tommy and Chet

Tommy is a great guy and is always within a mile of the start of our MS 150 Bike ride waving and high fiving passing cyclists.  He’s another of my favorite MS friends who keep me motivated to raise funds.  James is dedicated to fighting the cause and fun to visit with.  He and I were visiting and I told him I was looking for someone to sell my socks at this year’s MS 150 as I’d still be on my adventure when it happens.  He graciously volunteered to sell for me and I sent him home with 70 pair, if he gets them sold that will generate another $1,000.00 for the fight to end MS.

The first 42 miles today were pretty easy going and felt good to not be constantly
struggling to get up hills.  Pepper had told me there was a café in Marshfield which serves fantastic strawberry French toast so I had to stop.  He was right they were very good but even better were the two gentlemen sitting next to me at breakfast; Carl a 62 year old retired military man and Chester a 95 year old retired military man.  Of course they were interested in our ride and asked many questions. Then Chester said to me, “I have a good story for your website”.   Of course I had to hear it.   Chester went on to tell me in WWII he was in Patton’s Calvary, the pack mule division had 500 mules, 2 Deuce and half trucks and two Harley-Davidson motorcycles.  One day the colonel of the unit came to him and said, “Chester you’re my new motorcycle messenger”.  Being young and a good soldier Chester didn’t tell the colonel he didn’t know how to ride a bicycle let alone a motorcycle.  Thus, Chester became a motorcycle messenger.  He said he damn near killed himself the first two days as every turn and curve he came to he was going too fast and would crash.  It
was the third day before he learned how to start the bike.  He had been running alongside the bike, jumping on it and popping the clutch to get it started.  An Italian finally showed him the kick starter.  Then the Italian asked for a ride to the next town a couple miles down the road.  Chester obliged and quickly discovered having rider in back of him the motorcycle handled completely different.  A couple crashes later he and the Italian
arrived in the nearby town the Italian ever so grateful to be alive.  Chester finished his story by telling me he must have ridden the Harley 10,000 miles during the war delivering messages from outpost to outpost, always a prime target for snipers.  After the war Chester never rode another motorcycle or even a bicycle.  A good story Chester and yes you’ve  made it into my journal as well as being a part of my journey across America.   Carl was my newest “Road Angel” as when I went to the cash register to pay for breakfast I discovered Carl had paid it for me.   Carl, hope you read my journal, THANK YOU.

Next stop was Fair Grove and sure enough as I entered the community Tommy Johns was there to greet me with a wave and a big smile.  I picked up a couple Gatorades for Tommy and me to drink while we visited for half an hour.  I feel so blessed to have spent this brief
time getting to know Tommy and count him as a new friend.  You rock Tommy.  Before I left Tommy I couldn’t help but ask him how the road between Fair Grove and Ash Grove compared to what I had just completed.  I had to hold my laughter when Tommy said, “Well it’s pretty flat, a few rolling hills with one steep hill going into Ash Grove.  But then
again I’m not a bicycle rider”.  Actually I remembered the road as being one of the hilliest sections of a MS 150 ride which left out of Willard several years ago.  We haven’t been back on that route as it about killed the riders, including me, with its unending and ever steeper short hill climbs.  As I rode away I kept shaking my head and had a smile from ear to ear, saying to myself.   Tommy I love you guy but you’re right you aren’t a bicycle rider!

About a mile out of Walnut Grove I’d had enough hill-climbing for the day and decided to give a try at hitch hiking my bike and me once again.  Sure enough the first pick-up driving by picked me up.   The driver Delbert was what I’d refer to as a good ole’ boy with a blue
jean shirt unbuttoned, with the sleeves cut off, a beer belly hanging over his belt, a week old growth on his face and a couple tattoos on his arms.  His  pick’em up was an old beater of a Chevy S-10 complete with used tires in the bed, along with various other odd pieces of
junk, trash and of course a cooler.  Delbert immediately asked if I was thirsty and when I said yes.  He offered me the choice of a Mountain Dew or a quart of Busch Light beer.  I settled for the Mountain Dew.  Delbert took the beer.  As we were driving along he told
me he frequently picked up bike riders along this stretch of road as going either direction they were pretty tired by now.   Said he picked up a guy from England last week who was crossing from the West.  Told me the guy had no money to speak of, was crossing America with only $400.00.  Now this statement sent up a few red flags, especially since the guy was drinking a beer and had a big ass Buck hunting knife laid on the seat next to him which I had to ask about.  He was sure proud of that knife it was a Winchester collector series.  Then Delbert pulled out yet another smaller knife from his belt, one he’d modified himself to have a gut hook on it to make more useful cleaning game, field dressing an
animal after killing it hopefully.  Now I was beginning to wonder my sanity for hitch hiking.

We quickly arrived in Walnut Grove and Delbert told me he had to stop and see a guy about doing some engine work for him on a Pontiac he had. We pulled into a driveway and he jumped out of the car and began banging on the door of the house.  Delbert yelled out a
few four letter adjectives and said, “I know you’re in there get your ass out here now”.  Shortly thereafter, two more good ole’ boys who could have easily been cast as characters in the movie “Deliverence” came out and asked, “What the hell ya want, we don’t need
no trouble here today”.  Delbert explained about the engine on the Pontiac and asked
the shorter of the two to come with him to take a look and fix it.  The shorter good ole’ boy said he’d need to get a ratchet and a couple wrenches to take with.  While the guy went to get the tools, Delbert leaned over and stuck his head in the driver side of the pick-up and quietly told me the guy who was going for the tools name is Billy boy and he’s a little slow in the head but one hell of a mechanic.   I told Delbert since he and Billy were going to work on the Pontiac, I just get out now and ride the rest of the way to Ash Grove.  Delbert said stay put, I suddenly felt like a dog being commanded, I’ll get you to Ash Grove faster than you can ride there.  When Billy boy returned with the tools I got out of the truck to let him sit in the center as I didn’t want to be squeezed in between my two new friends.

Back in the truck Delbert pulled back out onto the highway and the next road south turned down it.  I commented this is not the road to Ash Grove, maybe I should get out here.  Delbert said hold on, I’ve got to get the key to the Pontiac as it’s at an old girlfriend’s house.  He then told Billy Boy and me about how the gal was separated from her old man.  He then went on to say her husband caught him in bed with his wife and called the sheriff tried to say Delbert and she was selling drugs.  He didn’t elaborate but something about giving the husband an attitude adjustment after the sheriff’s deputies left without finding any drugs.   All the while Delbert was sharing his tale with us he was chugging on the quart of beer.  He also was driving mostly in the on-coming lane of the highway which gave me quite a scare to say the least.  The further down the road we drove I was speculating we were getting further and further away from Ash Grove.  Finally we arrived at his girlfriend’s place.  Billy Boy and I waited at the truck while Delbert went in to get the key, we waited and waited and waited.  I think Delbert got a little more then the key to the Pontiac as it was about 20 minutes before he came out with a smile on his face and asked if we boys were ready to go.  Yea, like 20 minutes ago.  Instead of heading back the direction from which we came Delbert continued on South driving faster and more erratic as he
downed the last swallow of his beer.  A few minutes later we came to the junction of highway 160 which I knew would take me to Ash Grove.  I told Delbert this and said I’d get out here.  He said hold onto to your shorts as the Pontiac is in Ash Grove and is where we are going as he promised.  Finally we arrived in Ash Grove all in one piece as we hadn’t had a head on collision with any other vehicles.  My fear of being taken out to some out of the way area of the Ozarks robbed, beaten, gut hooked and left for the coyotes and buzzards to clean up the evidence proved to be unfounded.  Delbert dropped me off at a small grocery store and drove on toward town.  Sure enough another mile down the road there was Delbert and Billy Boy with their heads stuck in the engine compartment of a
Pontiac.  Really Old Guy you let your imagination get the better of you sometimes.
Delbert was just a good ole’ boy being neighborly helpful to a weirdo in spandex, if you’re reading this thank you for coming to my aid you’re my kind of guy.

After a short ride from where Delbert dropped me off, I arrived at the Ash Grove City Park and pool where we were to camp this night.  However, I had arranged for Ms. Vickie to come and get me as I’ve ridden tomorrow’s section of road a number of times with both the MS 150 and the annual Carthage Maple Leaf festival ride.  I also felt exhausted and
needed a rest day.  Besides it would give me an opportunity to work on my journal as well as respond to the many folks who have asked questions or made comments on my website, personal email and facebook friends.

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