Wabash Cannonball

We have made it to the banks of the Ohio River in Owensboro, KY. The Mighty Mississippi lies just 2 days hard ride from here. We are headed straight for St. Louis.



Day 11 - Elizabethtown, KY - Whitesville, KY -75 miles

Another long day of riding, which thankfully was easier then the other long days of riding. After leaving the Maker's Mark Distillery we returned to a series of dry counties, news that was received by the squad like a left hook to the ribs. The journey saw Cody get his doggie wings as he recorded his first victory in the great cross country dog battle. Riding point, a bogey screamed down from the right, followed closely by another from the left like the famed Zulu pincer attack. I was busy shouting out their coordinates to Cody as he quickly reached for his armaments (water bottle). A few direct squirts to the face and the beasts retreated from whence they came. The next mile was a joyous one as we recounted the battle.



Sometimes we come upon dogs that are already in the road as we pedal up. We usually spot them from a few hundred yards. With Ennio Morricone music sounding all around us, we tense up and drop down into a low gear. Cody nervously fingers his pepper spray, I ready the water cannons. Take a deep breath, tighten up the column and charge like mad men straight through their lines. We usually win most head on battles, but are vulnerable to silent attacks from our flanks.



Last night we finally reached another wet county and celebrated at the Black Cat in Whiteville, KY. I got cornered by two leathery fellows talking about logging, trucks and paper mills: a conversation to which I had little to add. Cody was busy getting cornered by more locals at the bar. Before long I found myself playing a game of pool against a bar regular. If I won, she would let us stay at her house, if I lost, we were on our own. A few lucky shots later and I had won lodging for the squad. At this point her boyfriend walked in wearing a dixie flag hat and cut off camo shirt. She told him 'I told these boys they could sleep in our front lawn", to which he responded "I doubt it." "What about down by the creek (crick)?" she asked, "I doubt it" he replied. We took this as our cue, and hightailed it out of the Black Cat and camped behind a shed in the city park.