SSUSA 2019 Ch. 2 - Smithville and the Red Rooster Barn

Thirty-some hours into our road trip for this year's edition of SSUSA we have arrived at our AirBnB in Smithville, TX, "The Red Rooster Barn".  Jay has been sleeping for hours after a filling lunch at El Mexicano Grill as I listen to the rain on the barn roof and "Tennessee Whiskey" echoes warmly out of the tin mug I've turned into a wireless speaker.  It's been raining ever since we finished our ride in Bentonville yesterday around lunch time but I've relished the excuse to rotate my knee through the four stages of RICE hell.



Hot water with Emergen-C warms me from the inside as I actually sit here and relax in the simplicity of this place and the knowing that the upcoming shenanigans will take over sooner than we think.  But for now, this quiet lil barn is our peaceful home away from home.

    

  
Smithville, home of the Sandra Bullock film "Hope Floats", is a cute little town bursting with Southern hospitality.  The main drag in town is ornate and we drove by as a film crew set up for a new Netflix show we heard whisperings of.  We met Coach and Mary at Honey's Pizza for dinner once they rolled into town and feasted on wine and Italian goodness.  Game 7 of the World Series was on the TV over the bar and we enjoyed cheering with the locals that filled the tables around us.

The decor reminded me of home and the kindness of our company was the perfect way to wrap up a rainy day behind the windshield.  The true creme de la creme, though, was the friggin' dessert!!!!  As the restaurant doors locked and the game sadly ended in NY's favor, our server asked if we wanted cinnamon rolls for dessert.  Usually, I only think of cinnamon rolls for breakfast, but hell if I'm not so grateful that we said 'yes'.

What came out was three amazingly fresh cinnamon rolls cooked in a wood-fired pizza oven in an iron skillet (but only one survived long enough for me to get out the phone and take a pic).  The rolls had been topped with olive oil and some amazing secrets that surrounded them in a pool of melted goodness.  We devoured every single morsel of them before the skillet could cool and I watched as Jay tried to channel Superman's powers and cool the skillet so he could drink up the last of the magic.

 

 After dinner, we brought them back to the barn to wind down the night and catch up on the stories of the road. 

Ready for rest,
Kristy Kreme

Coughs, Codeine, and Not-So-Soft Landings *SSUSA 2019 - Ch. 1*

We left Minneapolis last Monday night at 7:00pm as the radio reported on snow falling in southern MN and throughout Iowa.  Although the morning started with me at the office Dr's clinic with a cough that had kept both of us awake for the last few nights, we still loaded up the van with a bag full of codeine, Mucinex, cough drops, tissues and a crap load of positive thoughts.  Add to that three bikes, a bin full of snacks, riding gear for all weather, and one bitching ass Champions Belt...  Texas here we come!

  

We drove through the night on a mission set on breakfast and ridin' dirt with Coach and Mary in Bentonville, AR by 8:00am Tuesday.  Jay did almost ALL of the driving with his amazing night driving superpowers as I faded in and out of a codeine-fueled slumber.   [Nothing beats opioid warning labels to scare you back into #SoberOctober after Homie Fest, just sayin']

After a couple stops in the dimly lit outer rims of roadside gas stations to both sleep and burn some time as we stayed ahead of schedule, we found ourselves bellied up in a booth at the Village Inn in Bentonville, AR.  Coffee, eggs, and a strawberry crepe later we were off to meet Coach and Mary at the Southern Trailhead of the Coler Trails in town.

The sky was grey and the cool air was full of moisture after multiple rainy days preceded our arrival.  I should have taken heed when I saw this as we entered the trails...


Within a minute, I lost my front wheel as I exited a slick wooden bridge smattered with wet leaves that broke loose as I leaned in for the upcoming turn, crashing full speed and with all of my weight into the unforgiving surface of the stoney ground all on my left kneed camp.  It instantly sucked all of the air from my chest and I struggled to get out of my pedals with my bike on top of me.  I writhed in pain on the muddy trail as I made every effort to slow my breathing while dry-heaving over the creek below.



After a few minutes (Garmin says it was 7 min), Jay helped me up and I walked along the trail in an attempt to 'limp it off'.  I finished out the next 7.5 miles jostling between pure admiration of the nature surrounding us to the searing pain in my left knee every time I stomped down on a climb or riding a goofy-footed ready position.  The rocky trail was slow and slippery, but the pace and pausing a few times along the ride were quite peaceful and pretty.

{turn on audio!}

... the hauntingly beautiful song that emitted from the bridge was captivating for so many of my senses.  My knee ached and the cold cut straight to my core, but the sounds flooded me with a flood of peace.

Enchanted, I reluctantly left the bridge as the rain started back up and we loaded up the muddy steeds to find a tasty, warm lunch in the lil town square where the original five n dime still stood.  In a mild food coma, we left the cozy Italian restaurant, Tavola Trattoria, said "see ya later" to our friends and headed south again, Dallas-bound, as I searched Hotwire for a steal of a deal on a 4-star hotel on a quiet Tuesday night.

We pulled into town and found the Velvet Taco, a counter-service taco joint with an upscale twist on the street taco.  After dinner, we retreated to an amazing deal on a suite at the Wyndham where we snuggled on the couch for Game 6 of the World Series as I iced my knee.  Thank heavens for the king size bed to keep me from bumping my knee into Jay during the night!

We were back on the road by 9:00 am to finish the sub 4 hour drive to our final destination of Smithville, TX just outside of Austin.  We stopped in Carls Corner for gas and coffee where I wandered around the store gathering dorky souvenirs and Jay awkwardly waited for the Dunkin Donuts gals making the breakfast sandwiches to figure out how to make each one... she asked the cashier for step my step ingredients for each one she made (even if she was making a repeat of the previous order), as she lazily grazed from the ingredient bins, popping them in her mouth as if she were just making breakfast at home.  :oP

Bewildered, we grabbed our coffee and his breakfast and returned to the road.  We saw a longhorn steer somewhere outside of Waco but nothing I'd seen yet has made me think "they're right, everything IS bigger in Texas".  But then again, the adventure is just beginning....

Limpin' in TX,
Kristy Kreme

The Perfect Ramblin' Roadtrip

In August, Jay and I set out on what was to become our best road trip ever..

10 days, 8 states, 4 bikes, 2 dreamers..
and one Ramblin' Fever.

In spite of everyone's concern and foreboding, we chose to drive our 1980 Dodge Ram Van "Ramblin' Fever" out to New York for a summer vacation filled with bikes, racing, family, friends, and awesome new places.  Sure, we have no idea how many miles are on her but we've spent the last year getting everything tuned up, replaced, and repaired for just an adventure such as this.  New engine and transmission, new tires and new-to-us captains chairs.. loaded her up and we were ready to rock! Although I knew Jay had a shadow of worry in the back of his mind, I was bathing in a warm feeling of bliss and calm as we headed out on the road after work for our adventure to begin.

It felt like fall as we embarked under grey skies.  A cool breeze and Willie Nelson tunes swirled in the  air as Ramblin' Fever purred along the highway. We were shooting to drive through the night to avoid traffic in Chicago and arrive in Toledo just as dawn was about to break for a cat nap and breakfast before we busted out the bikes for some urban trail riding.

A couple hours into the drive, we were chasing a thunderstorm down 94 as we headed towards Madison, WI. The skies entertained us with magnificent explosions of light and illuminated branches  that seemed to stretch out across the sky for what felt like 10 seconds each time.  We continued to watch the storm as we headed east and the night settled in.

Jay loves driving at night, which is a true blessing and complete opposite of the uncontrolled car-colepsy I experience at night; I'm almost incapable of staying awake on long night drives.  I must have fallen into a deep sleep sometime after Chicago because I woke with a jolt as I felt Jay tap my shoulder and say "Kristy, we're getting pulled over".

The clock read 2:30am and we were somewhere an hour or so out of Toledo, likely the only vehicle on the road.

I sat my chair up, wiped the sleep from my eyes and rolled the window down as the officer approached from my side of the van.  It was humid from the recent rains and Ramblin' was running rich, filling the stagnant summer air with a thick plume of fuel and exhaust.  The officer shined his flashlight on our faces and the dash and opened by saying "I pulled you over because your license plate isn't illuminated".  Jay smiled and nodded, sharing that he had discovered the same problem just hours before we'd left, likely a problem from me getting rear-ended in June that we hadn't realized.  He handed over his license and insurance cards and the officer said he'd return with a warning as long as everything checked out.

We sat in the van patiently as I sleepily giggled about the officer's demeanor and the thick fuel smell we could now taste on our tongues.  As he spoke to us, it was as if he was afraid to look into the back of the windowless van.  I only saw peeks of his face as he made quick glances at us around the door frame. Twenty minutes went by and he still hadn't returned and we deduced it was going to be one of two results:  he was either a) trying to find SOMETHING to get us with, or b) he was waiting for the second squad car to arrive.  But, he returned, apologized for the wait, and sent us on our way with a printed out warning.

After idling so long, Ramblin' roosted the officer with a thick cloud of smoke as we pulled back onto the highway and we shared a nervous laugh together... crap, now he's gonna get us.  Ha!   

Jay continued to drive the last hour or so to Toledo where we found an all-night diner.  We pulled around to the rear employee entrance where there were no lights and parked the van.  Jay shoved aside our bags and blew up the thermarests, making a cozy bed in the back of the van with our feet nestled precariously beneath our bikes and snuggled by our gear bags on all sides.  We slept for a couple hours, woken up by the growing summer heat and sunshine filtering into the windshield and the morning delivery truck unloading next to us.

We clambered out and shuffled into the diner in need of a red eye plate and some fresh coffee. (Queue Supersuckers "Good Livin'" for proper theme music).

The diner was run by one cook and one waitress and they were killing it!  The delivery guy was stocking the shelves with his morning delivery as the UPS guy heckled the chef from the counter service seats.  We laughed and ate as the few hours of sleep and stiffness ebbed and I planned our morning ride.  Back in 2016, we passed through this area on our way to SSUSA in Pennsylvania where I found us an urban single track to ride.  Thanks to the AllTrails app, I was able to find us the same trail which had grown since we were last there!  So, we headed out, kitted up, and hit the dirt at Jermain Trail as the summer heat set in.

There we were at 10:00am on Thursday riding singletrack in Toledo, only 16 hours after we'd left home.  Splatters of sunshine clawed their way through the dense canopy above us as we navigated the flowy singletrack. Deer quietly roamed the trail along side us, popping their heads up as we passed in relative silence.  It was the perfect way to spin out the legs before making the last charge to NJ - our bed for the night and base camp for the next few days.

I took over the reigns and cranked up the tunes as we watched the miles fly by.  About a third of the way down I-80 in PA, we hit traffic.. major traffic.  The sign had said there was road construction ahead, but no one was moving.  After 20 minutes, we had only moved about 3 or 4 car lengths... another 30 min. went by and we didn't move an inch.  Sitting in a cloudless sky and 90+ degrees, we were HOT.  Every car around us had their windows up and likely had the AC's cranked.  Our fully carpeted 80's dream had no such luxury so we dripped sweat in our seats, hanging out the window trying to cool ourselves in the smallest breeze if we could.

Over an hour had gone by and we hadn't made it a mile.  I sat and watched as the engine and transmission temp gages began to climb and Ramblin' began to chug in the heat, eventually dying in the left lane.  We knew it was just the heat but something had to be done to resolve this on our own - there was no way AAA was coming to the rescue here.  Jay looked at me and said "Switch. There's no  way you'll do what I'm about to do".  

So we traded places as the cars idled around us and I flagged the semi next to us that we needed to get over to the right shoulder.  The next time the cars moved, he let us over and Jay took it all the way to the shoulder but didn't stop to let her rest.  I checked the map and we were only 3 1/2 miles from the next exit so Jay kept it moving on the shoulder, passing maybe a 1000 cars and semi's packed so tightly in desperation to move, no one tried to stop us.  But hey, if you saw Ramblin' Fever coming up the shoulder after two hours of mind-numbing traffic, would you have believed it?

I found us a 10-mile detour that we drove as Ramblin' chugged but improved greatly as the moving air cooled the '92 Magnum under the hood and we jumped back onto I-80 just after the construction zone and purred along as if nothing happened.  I waited a moment but, once we were both relaxed again I cranked up "Eastbound and Down" by Jerry Reed and we sang along with smiles on our faces,  petting the carpeted dash and praising Ramblin' for being so awesome.

We were now a few hours behind our goal but still took in the beauty of the sunset behind us as we counted down the miles to our next stop, "Forrest Lodge" in Sparta, New Jersey with our good friends, the Christians.

At 11:00pm, we rolled into the quiet community and revved the engine one last time before putting Ramblin' to bed for the night.  We shared the day's adventures with Joe and Cindy over a beer before joyously heading to bed (in a bed!) for some much needed sleep.  We made it!!!  And in Jerry Reed's words, "Eastbound and down, loaded up and trucking', we gonna do what they say can't be done"... yep, we did what they said couldn't be done!

The first mini-adventure of the trip was a success.  Oh yeah, and we're only on day 2!

Stay tuned for more epic stories to come.. riding in NJ, Singlespeed USA antics, the Belt!, New York City, Rock n Roll, and sand dunes, and more riding!

Awwww, feels so good to finally start telling the story!
Ramblin' On,
Kristy Kreme