Fuzzy-wuzzy was a worm Tuesday, October 15, 1996
Departure time: 9:25 (after breakfast and doing laundry at the local laundromat).
As we departed the Economy Inn in London, we saw a "wooly worm" on the astro-turf in front of the motel office. The motel manager explained that there is a wooly worm festival in a town 80 miles away and that people contend that you can forecast the weather by watching wooly worms. In fact, there was an item in the paper about "Cheers" actor Woody Harrellson's criminal trial there being delayed because of the Wooly Wrom Festival. To me it was just a fat and fuzzy caterpillar:
Fuzzy-wuzzy was a worm
Fuzzy-wuzzy walked along the railroad tracks
Along came a train
Fuzzy-wuzzy wasn't fuzzy anymore
Wuz-he?
Did I get that poem right? It's been at least 20 years since I've heard or said it.
As of 10:09 AM, I'd already experienced 2 unfriendly road encounters. The first one was a semi that passed directly at me when I was riding on the roadway because there were no paved shoulders. I was forced off the road onto the gravel shoulder. The driver was looking right at me and was quite deliberate in his actions. My hands were gripping hard to the handlebar as I skittered off in the gravel, so I didn't get a chance to shake my fist at him, but I did manage to vent my anger by yelling "JERK," though I really doubt he heard me.
The other driver (a car) merely laid on his horn as he passed me--willing me to leave the roadway. I didn't. I wouldn't. I get more agressive, the more I ride.
I really wish I could photograph these people and put their mug shots on the web, but survival usually precludes any photo opportunity. Actually, I still think highly of the Kentucky drivers. There were no shoulders all through Kentucky. Kentucky roads were actually worse than Montana. So there were thousands of opportunities for conflict, but the people were incredibly understanding and restrained.
Today offered as much beautiful mountain scenery as yesterday, but it was so bright that I had difficulty taking pictures with the Casio. I had to wait for shady photo ops.
It was hot too; about 87° at the high point.
On the border between Kentucky and Tennessee is the old coal mining town of Jellico.
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It was too hot to continue much further and we were told to expect a serious climb out of Jellico and 30-40 miles to the next motel, so we called it a day after only 50 miles.
We lost a day to our effort to retrieve tents and sleeping bags from Jackson, but we're pretty-much on schedule. According to CyberRouter, we have 1,052 miles to go. At 60 miles per day, that's 17.5 days to go.
Total miles today: 50.
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© Ed Noonan 1996, 1997
