STL2NOLA 02 – Ste. Genevieve, MO to Cape Girardeau, MO

Whilst riding from Sainte Genevieve, MO to Cape Girardeau, MO, I had two deeply spiritual revelations: First, rain is God’s bicycle wash. Second, God is personally, persistently concerned that my bike be freshly washed.

The weather forecasts (yes, I check more than one) all called for a fine day or riding. There was supposed to be rain in Ste. Genevieve but not until I was well and gone. I planned on a second long day or riding, not quite as long as the day before but hopefully one with some nice vistas and fewer headwinds.

Say it with me: Man plans; God laughs.

The day started beautifully, back on my old friend US-61. Here is where I was riding just a few minutes south of town. Who wouldn’t want to be out on a bike on a morning like this?

Twenty minutes later, I found this bridge.

Fifteen minutes after that bridge, I found this one.

This is why I ride. You could drive US-61 but you would whiz past these sights without ever having the time to appreciate them. The bike invites you to stop, get off, walk around, find the best perspective. Maybe get out a camera. Maybe pull out a bit of dried apple and munch it while contemplating what a beautiful world we live in.

I had some wind but nothing like the killer headwinds of Thursday. I had some hills but not as bad as Thursday. I had some lunch (chicken burrito). And then I had… rain.

Just as it started to get really wet, I pulled up to some sort of industrial building next to the road. The roof overhang afforded a minimum of shelter if I plastered my back against the wall. The building across the parking lot had a small porch with a real roof. I made a dash for it. Since the weather prognosticators had called for no-rain, I had left my rain suit at the bottom of my pannier. I dug out the jacket and put it on. Then I repacked my pannier.

By the time I got back to the road, guess what. It had stopped raining. Who’s laughing? Yup; you’re right.

Another hour of riding brought me to this historic bridge. You cannot drive your car across it but you can ride a bike across it.

Rain was starting to sprinkle on me as I took that picture. You can see the drops on my shirt. Within a few minutes it was threatening to rain hard again. I dove for a Dollar General and got inside just before the downpour began. Many many thanks to the good folks at Dollar General in Old Appleton, MO for letting me sit on the floor just inside the front door like some sort of weird doorman or troll or something. I am too big and my beard is too short to be a garden gnome.

By 2:15pm, my nice blue skies had devolved to this. Can you guess where the wind was flowing from? You’re right; from the left. The rain, it was a comin’.

I put my rain jacket back on and wore it for the rest of the day. Sometimes it stopped raining long enough that it was worth taking off the hood but mostly I looked like this when I had a panicky moment when I saw Oak Ridge. Had I taken a wrong turn and ended up in Tennessee?

All in all, it was an unusual day. In a single weird hour, I got more rude drivers than I think I have encountered in the entire rest of my riding career. Several close-passed me. A few shouted at me. One idiot actually shouted, “Get off the road!” as he passed on the other side of the road going in the other direction. That was a first and actually got a laugh from me. After that weirdo, the rudeness was done.

On the other hand, somewhere north or Cape Girardeau, a guy in his garage waved frantically at me as I rode past. I turned around and rode up his driveway. He gave me a bottle of water, asked if I needed snacks, and wanted to know about my trip. When I told him that I had started in St. Louis, he said that he was headed up there the next day. His son had just died there and the funeral would be soon. We had a moment together. He told me that his son is in a good place, though, because he had Jesus. Faith can get us through.

A few miles down the road, as I was pedaling up a hill in the rain, a pickup truck slowed to keep pace with me. The passenger window was down. The driver yelled out, asking whether I wanted a ride. No thanks, I told him, I was already wet. He went on his way and I felt hugely uplifted by his offer. (Actually, I was nice and dry inside my rain jacket. My bare legs were wet and my hands were wet but that was fine because the afternoon was nice and warm.)

I had shortened my route, trimming 14 miles from the initial plan. I had lopped off a loop past Trail of Tears State Park. It also saved me 600 feet of ascent. When I changed my route, I did it to save some miles. It ended up being a very good decision weather-wise, too. Had I included it, I would have spent another 90 minutes riding in the rain and certainly would not have wanted to detour into the park to explore it.

I got to my hotel feeling good, had a shower, dinner, and was in bed early. I had two long, hilly days behind me. Day three would be flat (most of the time) and only 45 miles.

Let me leave you with one last picture. I passed this creek in the interesting-sky time between the first and second rains.

To read about the other days in my ride, go to the St. Louis to New Orleans category.