It is strange how things work out when they’re not working out. I started day 8, a tough 89 miles with 6500ft of climbing from Damascus on my way crossing into Kentucky to my first stop in Elkhorn City. Up to a week prior to starting the trip, Damascus was just a town I would pass through, at most becoming a water stop along the way. Several weeks leading up to the trip, I had been in communications with some of the locations I was planning on staying due to the historical flood that had happened in eastern Kentucky. I had to cancel staying at two locations, including a state park I was looking forward to taking a break at, as they became evacuation centers for the flood victims. I would not truly understand the severity of the damage until a couple of days later.

I was also not completely sure whether I was going to be able to bike through the known Transamerica Route (Bike Route 76) until a few days leading up to it. Thus, I changed my schedule to take a day off in Damascus and assess whether I would be needing to re-route a 300 mile section between Damascus VA and Berea KY. The problem with re-routes are that you do not know the areas, road conditions, and break points you will need to plan for. I was nervous about deviating from the American Cycling Association maps. The week I set out from Maryland, I had a new schedule for the original route, and a contingency plan for a reroute. I did not know which I would be taking until 2 days beforehand. What I would come to find out, the break in Damascus would have been needed ahead of the 3 day physical, mental and emotional abuse the environment would inflict on me.

The morning of day 8, I was feeling strong from a day of rest, and felt like cycling, instead of touring on a bike. That meant fewer breaks and mostly eating while moving. But beyond being on the go, the mindset during cycling also tends to be different. Your periphery vision becomes narrower to what is in front of you, and you become in sync with specific metrics communicated to you by your bike’s computer that drives your cycling behavior. It is a very different experience than what I wanted to get out of this journey. But the day’s ride profile called for some seriousness, as the Kentucky hills would prove to be much more difficult than I had imagined. Long steep climbs were ahead of me for the next few days, but it was also the type of riding that appealed to me the most, as a cyclist and not a tourer.

The morning started as warm with a dense fog and a gloomy feel to it. The mist from the fog would condensate on my helmet and trickle on to my face, mixed with a bit of sweat to create nature’s electrolyte drink. I quickly realized I was going into a different world as the buildings became more run down, with most of the businesses I would pass by were no longer in business. It had a sad, beat down feel to it. The ride would take me through mostly rural roads as I slowly started feeling a sense of loneliness. I was slowly entering into the flood zone, and a couple of the passes were closed due to damage to the roads. Luckily, they had started allowing cyclist through only a week prior to my arrival to it. As I came to the base of the first climb, I spoke to a few of the road workers about the conditions, and what to expect. The accents were very thick southern, mashed up with a bit of bayou in there. I had to pay very close attention to what they were saying. But, isn’t that half the battle with communications? Simply paying attention to the other person?

The first climb, being completely closed to traffic had that feeling of solitude. Similar to the solitude you experience after a trauma. And this place was starting to deal with the trauma as I reached the summit, with workers tirelessly trying to repair damaged roads.

The day would remain similar, but perhaps because I was not paying much attention to the day. I wasn’t seeing what was around; the slight changes in topography; the cultural subtleties that makes a region unique. The day became about a task. And I am good with tasks.

I finally arrived at my destination in Elkhorn City KY, after close to 7 hours of grueling cycling. Alma Potter’s House, a known resting spot with cross-country touring folk, and a relic of the 70s, was where I would lay down my head. It had the dubious honor of being the first accommodations I had booked for this trip. I can’t remember exactly how I came to it during planning phase, but it was one of the very few places to stay within a 160 mile arduous stretch of biking, and it had a warm shower, comfortable bed and a kitchen. I couldn’t ask for more for the day. It would be the first of 3 physically challenging days ahead of me.

The next morning, I had another challenging day ahead of me between Elkhorn City and Hazard KY, but a new type of challenge would end up joining the physical abuse. The morning started off with a pleasant temperature that was perfect for a bike ride, but the deeper I went into eastern Kentucky, the feeling I would get, coupled with what my eyes were seeing matched the gloomy feel of the day. As I pedaled along dark roads protected from the day’s light from dense trees and vegetation, I started developing an uneasy feeling about where I was. From a distance I started hearing dog barks, and not the friendly playful type of sound. As passing a house with two large dogs caged up losing all control at the sight of me, a third one jumped out of the bushes from the right side and chased me along. I had read about dogs in a few blogs, but I was completely caught off guard by what was happening. I was ambushed. With fight or flight reflexes kicking in, I was able to get away from the angry dog who was not very happy about my presence. But right as my nerves and heart rate started normalizing, another attack by two dogs would happen shortly after. And this would continue for 10 miles, which would become the most stressful 10-mile biking experience of my life, finally ending as I dropped down the mountain onto a busy highway I so welcomed. By the time I hobbled into mile 40 for a break in Hindman, I had nothing left in me. The stress from the experience zapped all the energy I had, and I was worried that I was unable to continue for the remainder 40 miles I had left on the day. It is amazing how much energy stress consumes, unable to see or experience anything around, and all the good feelings I had leaving Virginia quickly started to fade.

As I continued biking along for the remainder of the day, I started seeing a side of America that I hear and read about, but had never experienced. It appeared to me how sheltered I really was going through some of the most impoverished stretches of land I had seen. Like life had not been unfair enough to these people, the floods that I considered a nuisance to my plans, had decimated their homes and lives. It is amazing of the two distinctive realities from the same event. But regardless of their struggles at that very moment, I would still receive smiles and waves letting me know I was welcomed in their homeland. It was this type of friendliness and consideration I would see throughout Kentucky. And the drivers… some of the most thoughtful drivers I had ever experienced toward cyclist. And deeper I went into Kentucky, I would come to realize this was a cultural phenomena of the entire state.

After a long and exhausting day that left me with a heavy feeling, I pulled into my stop for the evening, a small town named Hazard. It was all too visible of the impact the opioid crisis had on this community, and it was the first time I felt a long way from home since starting this journey. Navigating towards my B&B, I would stop at a corner store to buy myself a drink. It would’ve been appropriately a bottle of bourbon, if I did not have another challenging day to look forward to. But imagine a cyclist next to their fancy bike in full cycling apparel, sitting on the curb brown-bagging problems away. This was the image that summarized my journey from Elkhorn City to Hazard. I felt completely depleted, but tomorrow would be a new day.

Ride Stats (Garmin Files):

Days Ridden: 8 days
Distance Covered: 672 miles
Climbed: 41063 ft
Flats: 2
Bike Traveler Sightings: 9
Dog Attacks: more than I can count
Many stories registered to long term memory

Kentucky Part I: Dog Day Afternoon