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Day 6, Jefferson City to Hermann - 45 miles

    I had to get up to go to the bathroom about 5:30 in the morning. On the way I pulled the drapes back and looked out the window. The streets were wet, the tree branches were whipping around and I could hear the wind. I went to the bathroom, returned to the bed, fell in, pulled the covers over my head and repeated the mantra of, "Shit, shit, shit, shit..." until I fell asleep.

    Up again two hours later. Another look out the window, the streets were still damp but the wind had subsided to a strong breeze. The biggest problem was that it would be blowing directly in our faces on the way to Hermann. I didn't mention anything to Jeanette when I woke her to get ready for breakfast. I figured I'd allow her the joy of discovery for herself.

    As usual, I was first to breakfast and found Rachel in the kitchen cooking. Coffee was ready and I poured the first of several cups. Not much of a reason to rush, I could see no reason to trade a nice warm house for a wet ride into a strong wind. Jeanette came down shortly after and we settled in to eat large portions of scrambled eggs, sliced ham, mixed fruit and sticky buns with juice, tea and coffee. Jeanette was concerned about riding the tandem across the bridge back to the trail and Rachel volunteered her husband Lorenzo to take us and the tandem in the SUV using a trailer hitch bike rack. I thought about the offer (for seconds after the look from Jeanette) and immediately took Rachel up on the offer. I also figured that the ride would shortcut two miles of riding in the wind and rain. 

    We loaded up the bike and panniers and were soon at the trailhead. Things were better than I had hoped. The rain had completely stopped and the wind had dropped in strength to about 5mph. It was still blowing right in our faces though. The sky was brightening. It had the looks of becoming a beautiful day. Just in case, we put plastic garbage bags over our panniers and trunk. Cheap, waterproof, easily replaceable, found anywhere and fit just right.

    This portion of the trail was one of the prettiest with scrub forest on both sides. The thickets, vine covered trees and brush, all on uneven ground reminded me of descriptions of the Battle of the Wilderness from the Civil War but that battle took place a long way from here near Fredericksburg, VA. Still, as I looked to the side, I almost expected to see Johnny Reb step from behind a tree, bayonet fitted musket aimed directly at my chest. 

    The constant headwind, our sore butts from days of riding without proper preparation and the beauty of the trail caused us to stop every few miles and walk the bike along. The Missouri River was in view on much of the ride and during one of the stops we walked down as close as we could without stepping into what looked like six foot deep mud with the river's low level.

    The ride was going to take us through a series of small villages including Wainwright, Tebbets, Mokane, Steedman, Portland, Bluffton and Rhineland before coming to McKittrick, the turn off for Hermann. None of these were billed as full service towns. We really weren't concerned though since Rachel's breakfast was huge and filling, a lot more than we're accustomed to eat early in the morning. As it turned out, other than a stop in Mokane for coffee, we did pass up quite a few opportunities for lunch, we just weren't that hungry.

    I had expected critter hunting to be exceptional with the low light levels and the recent rain but we saw only two turtles. That is until the totally unexpected actions of a red tailed hawk. We were riding at our usual pace of about 12-14 mph when the hawk came diving out of the sky through the tree canopy across the front of the bike, less than twenty feet away. With talons outstretched, it braked with its wings at the last second before crashing into the brush along side the left side of the trail. It landed hard and then took off in powerful thrusts of its wings, back in the direction it had approached through the canopy. As it flew away I could see a mouse held tightly in its claws held up close against its lower body. Had the bird been a second slower I'm sure we would have struck it with our bike. The whole thing took less than ten seconds. I don't know why but the event reminded me of Hemingway and death in the afternoon in a bull ring. I thought of one of his short stories, "Capitol of the World," about a young boy in Spain infatuated with becoming a matador.

    I probably would have segued into my fantasies of running the bulls at Pamplona had it not been for the large thunder clap. During all of this fantasizing the wind had come around and was blowing at our backs, a good thing. The bad thing was that it was carrying a full fledged storm with it from behind including threatening black sky and approaching lightening and thunder. Lightening bolts were popping off at the rate of one about every two minutes. Most were a good distance behind us but a few could be seen ahead and to the south.

    The fact that we were more likely to be killed by lightening than win "the big one" with a lottery ticket was not lost on us. We didn't want this day to be the one that it would happen. What raised our anxiety level was that the trail had opened up and we were riding on a sometimes raised bed in clear wide fields. We picked up speed but then had to stop to put on our rain jackets because it started sprinkling. A half mile later the sprinkling stopped and we took them off. This went on three more times. When we reached McKittrick we were in the rain-jacket-on mode.

    Nine to ten women, all extremely attractive, were all at the trailhead on bikes. They were laughing and chattering away and greeted us warmly asking if it was raining in the direction we were coming from. We told them that it was on and off, right now off but that it looked like really heavy weather was approaching. They were disappointed. The group, half nurses from the St. Louis Poison Center, and the other half teachers, had hoped to ride 50 miles to celebrate the 50th birthday of one of the riders. They were at 36 and needed 14 more to go. They asked where we were staying and we told them Hermann since a large group had booked the only B&B at McKittrick. They all apologized at once, the offending group was them! They told Jeanette that there was one more cot left to sleep on at the B&B and plenty of floor for me. We all laughed together. We told them we had booked an alternative place in Hermann and were actually looking forward to traveling the extra few miles since we had heard that there were some good German food restaurants in the town. 

    They immediately volunteered to drive us over to Hermann and transport our bike on the back of one of their vehicles. In the short time we had been talking the skies had really darkened and it had started raining in earnest. We didn't turn them down. Joy, a nurse from the poison center, soon had us loaded up on her bike rack, panniers still hanging on the bike. We drove across the bridge in the rain and turned on the street where the B&B was supposed to be located. Instead, all we found was a brushy hillside lot with a house located at the top with no access. Joy took out her cell phone and called the number of the B&B that I furnished. Larry, the host, answered the phone and gave us directions to the alley where the front of the house was located. We drove around. The house sat back on the lot with the front entrance heavily overgrown. With the thick brush in front, the high hill, and the dark and threatening skies, I had pictures of the Adams Family, and started humming the song from the TV show. We all laughed and Joy gave us one last chance to return with her to McKittrick and the trailside B&B.

    The rain had stopped briefly and Larry came out of the house to meet us. Joy helped us unload our bike and was on her way. Larry showed us where to park on the front walkway under cover of the porch roof. We had just unloaded the bike and carried our panniers in the front door when the skies opened up and a tremendous cloudburst of hail rained down. Some of the ice balls were the size of dimes. It continued for about ten minutes, my wife and I marveling at the show and thankful that we had accepted the ride from Joy. We would have been somewhere between McKittrick and the B&B on our tandem had the ladies not been there to help us.

 Larry led us up the stairs to our room.  It was large, clean and moderately decorated with a queen-sized bed and attached modern bathroom. He led us downstairs, talking all the way and showed us the kitchen, dining room, living room and an enclosed patio with plants, chairs and TV, that must have been a joy to sit in on a sunny winter day. As we walked towards the kitchen, Larry's wife Nancy returned from shopping. Larry asked where we were from and when he heard the central valley of California, identified himself as California refugee from Fresno. His wife, Nancy, was from Sacramento where Jeanette and I had spent most of our lives. We talked about lots of California stuff and the changes in the state in the last 15 years.

    Jeanette and I asked about dining. We were disappointed to hear that the breweries serving German food were only open on weekends. That left several wineries and a Mexican restaurant downtown. Being from California, we were skeptical about Mexican food in Missouri figuring that finding a good Mexican cook in the mid-west might be like trying to find a tornado in California. We reviewed our options and asked what was reachable by foot. We weren't planning on riding the bike in what could become a major storm. Larry said they'd be happy to drive us but we said we'd really like to just walk if they could lend us an umbrella. Larry said that walking meant Mexican food.

   Jeanette and I returned to our room and got ready for dinner. By that time the rain had totally stopped. We walked to the restaurant without a drop falling on us. The El Ranchito Restaurant, is not a place for haute cuisine. It is a basic, low ceilinged, worn furniture, tacky wall hanging, Mexican restaurant with one difference, it has a good sized bar you pass as you walk in. As we were waiting to be seated I looked across the dining room and saw a couple with the largest Margarita I have ever seen. I had planned to have a beer but instead turned the menu to the back and looked at the drinks. They offered Margaritas in multiple sizes. The one I saw was a 44 ouncer! OH, MY GOD! 

    I almost said, "I'll have one of those," and then thought about the fact that I'd have to walk home. I ordered the next size down, a 27 ouncer. Jeanette ordered the same. She likes hers with no salt over the rocks while I go for the blended version, salt on the rim.

    With no lunch, we were hungry. We both ordered the fajita plates, steak for me, chicken for Jeanette. The plates, complete with hot flour tortillas wrapped in foil, were delivered shortly. Obviously, quantity was more important than presentation. The platters were large and heaped with food. Jeanette worked on her platter until she had downed half. I paced myself and with the help of the Margarita to slide food down the trough, was able to swallow all of mine. While we were eating I watched the bar over Jeanette's shoulder. The bartender lined up six two gallon nylon jugs and started filling them with a home made Margarita mix, using a 4 cup measuring cup and a funnel to add ingredients. When he finished he had about 12 gallons of mix, that's one heap of a lot of Margaritas! Jeanette asked for a take-home box for the other half of her dinner and we walked back to the B&B, still dry and not needing the umbrella.

   Once back we joined the other six guests, two older couples, and a younger couple in the living room and patio, and spent the evening talking and reading and finally watching ER on TV before going to bed. As I laid in bed thinking about the weather and our luck another mantra ran through my mind, "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

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Recommended:

El Ranchito Restaurant - this is a no frills place. The food's good if not spectacular, the drinks large. Dinners - $6-20
701 Market Street
Hermann, MO
573-486-0407

Neufield-Davies B&B
Larry and Nancy Hamm
317 W. 6th Street
Hermann, MO 65041
573-486-8107

Cost: $77

Ambience *****
Bathroom ****
Breakfast ***** (and then some!)