I left Berea, KY this am, the western gateway to the Appalachians. The landscape has opened up into farm and ranch land, reminding me that there is a horizon out there... eventually. The multi-hour uphills have given way to rollers. The trick is to pedal hard on the downs, so that you get as far up on the ups as possible, before you have to slip into granny gear (1st). The hardest thing about riding here... this state has a number of dry counties, and I seem to be routed through all of them. Nobody should be subjected to riding all day without the promise of a beer at rides end - I think its against the Geneva Convention.
Tomorrow, I head to Bardstown, KY and things are looking up - this wet county is the bourbon capital of the world - my first stop will be the Old Talbot Tavern built in 1779 - Abe Lincoln and Daniel Boone drank there, and there are holes in an upstairs wall shot by Jesse James. I'll be camping at My Old Kentucky Home State Park, which inspired Stephen Foster to write the song. A few of the distilleries include Jim Beam, Heaven Hill, and Makers Mark in nearby Loretto. The weather is looking pretty dicey as the remnants of the Texas, Oklahoma storms are spreading through the area- so it looks like a wet day all the way around.
Thanks for riding along...
1. East of Berea yesterday.
2. This morning West of Berea.
3. I honestly don't know what to say about this Kentucky creativity.
4. Kentucky recreation.