Covid Cross Day #9 Barkcamp State Park, OH to Newark, OH

Covid Cross Day #9
June 9, 2020
Barkcamp State Park, OH to Newark, OH 94.1 Miles
Start 8:10 AM Finish 8:12 PM
Ride Time 8:44
Ascent 3443 Feet
Descent 3734 Feet
Tour Total 751 Miles 

I slept well last night at site number 72 in Barkcamp State Park. I could hear the murmur from I-70 in the distance, but the campground was quiet. Last night I had gazing up in wonder at the stars. It had been way too long since I had experienced such celestial amazement. This was why I was doing this tour.

I had sat at the picnic table drinking beer and editing blog posts until midnight. The fiery orange moon was creeping up over the horizon as I turned in. Come morning my laundry was almost dry, my devices were fully charged, my water bottles were full, and my mechanical issues were resolved. I cruised down the huge hill from the campground to highway 149. No wonder I had been in such a crabby mood last evening when I arrived at the campground.

I pedaled ten miles to Barnesville where I stopped at Annie-K’s Restaurant, where masks weren’t required. I sat outside on the back porch under an awning, where I met local resident John Henry. I ordered an egg and bacon omelette with home fries and whole wheat toast with orange juice and coffee. John told me that he was originally from Charleston West Virginia and that he had served in the Air Force. He mentioned that the recent gas drilling boom around here had significantly changed things. Overnight, it had gone from a dusty small town to a bonanza. Money certainly could change things. After breakfast I was on Highway 147 riding through the fields and hills. I smelled a stench and knew there was roadkill ahead. I approached a deer carcass teaming with maggots.

Bike touring was like sailing. You went from one safe haven to the next, and in between you were out on the open seas. My first landing would be Thursday evening at my uncle Herbie's house in Fort Thomas, Kentucky. I’d be spending two nights with him, where I'd be able to recharge, do laundry, and sleep in a bed. Inspired by the signs for church parking lot services that I'd been seeing, I was planning a parking lot memorial service for my mom at her church parking lot on Friday. There was supposed to be a service in April, but it had been cancelled because of the pandemic. It will be good to see my uncle and my mom’s friend’s. I wish that I would have cycled home to Cincinnati while my mom was still alive

I’ve been listening to the 2016 WFMU Duane Train broadcast from the morning after TURD was elected. Duane urged his listeners to love TURD supporters. While I disagree with the politics of these rural people out here, I wave and say good morning to every person I pass. I tell my story to everyone that I talk to. My jersey has a giant American flag on the back and I have a small flag attached to my rear back. We've got to begin the conversation somewhere. Although both parts of my family are of European dissent, out here on the road I identify with Native Americans. I relish the land, the birds, the animals, and the stars. I love this land. Much of the geography has native American names. When I’m not doing cross-country bike tours. I’m making artwork, stitching quilts, and teaching. I have negative feelings about politics, whether it be governmental, the workplace, or in culture.

The next town I encountered was Quaker city. I first came to the cemetery and a friends meeting house that had been constructed in 1831. I then passed through the small town and rode out the other side on Highway 265. I've ridden past numerous raccoon road kills the past few days. I was riding on the white line on Highway 313 towards Senacaville. I could see a car in my rearview mirror slowly approaching from behind. He tapped his horn as he passed to let me know that he was there. I noticed that it was a state trooper. He waved to me and I waved back. It was a nice friendly exchange with the law out here in eastern Ohio

I stopped at that Duchess Shoppe in Buffalo for a red Gatorade. The clerk was wearing a mask but they weren’t required for customers. I spent some time inside the beer cooler trying to cool myself down. It was was hot and muggy outside. Afterwards, I sat out on the curb in the shade to drink my Gatorade. The highway patrol officer from earlier pulled in where I was sitting and wanted to know about my trip. He was impressed and said that he'd like to do a cross-country bike tour. After Buffalo I passed a goat farm and then a miniature pony farm. There were no services in Claysville, where many of the houses were dilapidated and falling down. On the far edge of town I stopped at the Carriage Market where I sat inside in the air conditioning and drank another red Gatorade.

I lathered up more sunscreen before I left. It was so bright out that I couldn’t read my phone. After Rix Mills I took a left on Clay Pike Road which was small and tree-lined. The leaves shielded me from the sun. A tractor approached from the other direction. It had a tilling attachment that was as wide as the road. I had to move to the far right so that we could pass one another. We both waved. My front deraileur was back in a sweet spot today, and my right shoe clip was properly adjusted.

It was sweltering and I was doing a lot of climbing. My water bottles were broiling, and I couldn’t drink from them. I passed a golf course with water features and spurting fountains. I desperately needed cold water. I spotted a vending machine at the club and pulled over. It had Gatorade, but the machine wouldn’t accept my five dollar bill. Ugh.

I couldn’t stand the heat anymore. I was less than three miles from Zanesville with one more hill in front of me. I started scoping for shady areas and pulled over in a grass area in the shadow of a row of tall evergreen trees. I laid down in the grass and took a nap. I'm not sure how long I was there - perhaps thirty minutes, maybe longer.

I rode into Zanesville and stopped at the East End Cafe, but they didn’t serve food. My route led me through sprawl with only fast food choices. Out of desperation I was going to stop at an Olive Garden but noticed the Tumbleweed Tex Mex Grill & Margarita Bar up ahead. I sat inside in the air conditioning, and servers were all wearing masks. I immediately ordered two beers, but was told that I could only order one at a time. I got the pulled pork sandwich and had to pace three bottles of Stella.

I headed back out into the stifling heat got on Route 146 and crossed the Muskingum River and got on Highway 146. It clouded up at around 5:45 PM, and even looked like it could rain. I wouldn't have minded getting doused by a cool shower, in fact I would have welcomed it. I needed to be in Xenia by tomorrow night which meant that both today and tomorrow I needed to crank out the distance. There would be several rail trails that I’d be taking across southern Ohio to Xenia. I figured that I'd be able to make good time and find stealth camping options on those trails. I was now following the Licking River and heading west. I passed a sign on someone's front  gate that read, "Praying is the best way to meet the Lord. Trespassing is faster." I was hot so I stopped at a Sunoco for another Red Gatorade. They had an ice refrigerator out front that I briefly climbed into.

The pavement was wet in Nashport with small pools of water in the rumble strip slots, indicating that it had rained earlier. The cooled down pavement made it so much more pleasant. Newark was a nice town. It was a county seat with a large courthouse building in the center of town. They were trying to revitalize downtown as an arts center. There was great signage and bicycle arrows on the street. I figured that I'd be ending my day soon, so I stopped at Speedway and picked up a six pack of Blue Moon, a bag of ice, and some pretzels.

I found myself on a bike trail heading through the Licking County Family YMCA Park. It was flanked by busy Highway 16 on one side, and Racoon creek on the other. I was tired and started scoping out my stealth camping options. There was a frisbee golf course in the park and I chose the last hole, secluded behind some bushes alongside the creek. It was dusty and dirty and I was surrounded by a confluence of highways. A dog was barking from across the creek. I waited until dark before I set up my tent. Although my spot was secluded, I dragged some large branches to camouflage the opening to my camp. I sat on a rock overlooking the creek while drinking my beer and trying not to get fine powdery brown dust all over myself. It was hot and sticky when I crawled inside my tent.










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