Katy Trail 2012: Day 3

Day 3

Tebbetts to McKittrick/Hermann 30 miles

Highlights: Cold, Meyer's Bed & Breakfast on the Hill, Joey's Birdhouse, Hermann, Tin Mill Beer

God bless Tebbetts and the Turner Katy Trail Hostel.  This shelter was a former grocery store around the turn of the (twentieth) century.  It has now been restored and maintained by the Conservation Foundation of Missouri Charitable Trust.  It is a functioning hostel with hot showers, a fridge, toaster ovens, microwaves, and various mugs, plates and silverware.  It houses over 40 bunk beds, and though they operate on a first-come first-serve basis they have never all been filled.  Someone commented on how much the rows of bunk beds resembled the illustrations in the children's books Madeline, only with less nuns. We made it to the hostel past 9 o'clock that night.  Though it was locked, we had instruction as to where to find the key; outside, available for anyone who knew where to look.

We arrived cold and wet and tired.  We took a few minutes to explore the place and I confess to totally geeking out about how neat it was.  Granted it was a little spooky being there alone at night.  If any of us would have had unprotected teenage sex and/or drugs I'm sure a guy in a hockey mask and machete would make us pay for it, but we were too tired for debauchery that night so no homicidal maniacs. 

In addition to the furnishings listed earlier there was a large picnic table inside and two more outside.  Aside each bunk was a lockable cabinet to store your stuff should you decide to leave the hostel unencumbered for a time, we of course didn't need it as we had the whole place to ourselves.  Upstairs there are more bunk beds and even a ping-pong table!  Nice.  There is a spacious balcony good for enjoined the sights of Tebbetts;  You can clearly see both grain silos from there.

But without a doubt the best feature of the hostel is their bike room.  It has a ton of tools, some donated bikes available for day use, and even a bike stand to prop your bike up with while you work on it.  We stored our bikes here overnight and the next morning spent several hours getting them back into working condition.  We removed the caked on limestone crud, oiled our chains, and tightened our shifter cables.  All of this plus a luxurious breakfast caused us to get a very late start, not leaving until 1 or 2 in the afternoon.
 

Farther down the road we spoke to a B and B operator who was voicing concerns about the hostel.  It's openness could possibly lend itself to unsavory characters.  I can see that possibility.  All the websites and guidebooks I've read recommended bringing ear plugs in case there is some wild party going on.  Alone, I'd be a little concerned about my safety and I certainly wouldn't leave my wife there by herself.  All and all though I'd say this place is great.  Tebbetts didn't seem like a big place, but the presence of this oasis at the half way mark of the Katy makes this town a milestone that I will never forget and will continue to visit every time I ride the trail.
 

Even at one in the afternoon, it was cold that day.  We had originally intended to do another 60+ miles and head from Tebbetts all the way to Augusta to all but end our journey, but with our late departure from the blissful bunks of the hostel plus my new leg injury and a cold front settling in we compromised.  We opted to used our wiggle room day, Easter, and divided the 60 miles up into two days.  We would make it to Augusta after a night in Hermann, MO, an interesting town we heard a lot about.  It seemed fitting that we go there.  One of our close friends, Mr. Kirk Herrmann - two "r"s and two "n" - helped me begin another hobby of mine.  His name bears a resemblance to an attraction in that town, the Hermann Brew Company.  While the brewery has changed it name to Tin Mill Brewery it seemed worth investigating.

So Hermann is 30 miles down the Katy and then 3 miles off the trail, over the Missoruri river at a trail spur near McKittrick.  We bundled up and headed out of the Hostel to the wide open trail.


It wasn't long until we stopped, however.  We didn't make it but a few feet out of the Hostel before we realized we needed more clothes.  We bundled up more so, some with socks on their hands, and looked into accommodations for the night.  There didn't seem to be any formal camping anywhere near Hermann, but just outside the hostel we saw advertisement for some B&B's in McKittrick.  We called up two of them and our friend's got a place at Joey's Birdhouse, my wife and I at Meyer's Hilltop Farm.  Although it seemed a shame not to camp and to spend all that money, it was a weekday so it'd be cheaper and the low that night was 38!

The trail that day was more of the same.  I'm not saying that it was mundane but after a few days of the same scenery and a leg injury to dull your senses it becomes difficult to appreciate.  We made good enough time and warmed up with our blood moving.  The rock faces seemed more eroded around the river's bend, plus the steel railroad bridges were more frequent.  We were in the Missouri river delta and markers could be seen marking various floods over the years, some over half way up this rock!



We passed through many small villages with their own grain silos, but one that stood out was Rhineland.  It wasn't particularly hospitable, no trail head or water service, but it did have a glorious church, a baseball diamond and a strip mall.  For those of you with a keen eye and close attention to detail, just past the strip mall in a cave in the bluffs near a small farm, you might see this little guy:

Hullo

Partially because I stopped to take 80 pictures of this guy and partially because I was injured in the first place I fell behind the front runners in our pack.  I really pushed some pedal to catch back up but after 15-20 minutes of this my leg started to remind me what a bad idea it was.




Our party was often split up, but usually for a good reason.  It turns out McKittrick was just around the corner from Rhineland and the sun was setting.  A few of us pulled ahead and met up with Rich, who opened up Joey's Birdhouse, a one room converted store house with a kitchenette, a claw foot tub, and a Murphy bed.  My wife asked Rich if he knew where Meyer's Farm was and he pointed to a hill.  Go up that hill, he said, take a right and when you see another hill go up it. And up and up and up, he said.

Meyer's Hilltop Farm, is a Farm on top of a hill.  If that's not descriptive enough then I should note that at the highest hill in McKittrick, is another hill. Yet another hill that sits in the middle of that one marks the start of the hill Meyer's Hilltop Farm is atop.





After desperately pedaling the first hill, my wife caught the Meyer's sign at the entrance of the second hill.  She switched to her granny gear and took it.  I said "nope," got off and walked.  Halfway up that hill is a hollowed out trunk of a massive tree.  Six bikers could fit in it!  My wife was still pedaling when we passed it, though I was walking faster than her.  At this point she dismounted and we both pushed our bikes up the hill, wheezing, as Leon the Donkey looked on.




The Meyer's were lovely people, but at that point we weren't.  We entered their gorgeous home and after only a short conversation this morning via cellphone, they welcomed us with open arms.  It was a little intense at first; meeting new people in the condition we were in and seeing their warm sunny smiles while our miserable countenances betrayed our graciousness.

But without much ado we were led to our rooms.  We both felt better after a shower although I still had to limp up and down the stairs.  Maggie, the kindly matron of the establishment - originally from New Jersey - welcomed us once again with an assortment of menus for the evening.  The menus were from a variety of restaurants in downtown Hermann, across the river.  We picked an establishment from the menus and Eldan, Mr. Meyers, drove us into town and picked us up when we were ready.  It was great to be ferried across the river and Eldan was even so kind to give us a tour of his fine city.

As you might have guessed Hermann was settled by German immigrants.  It's downtown was filled with large brick buildings ornate with gables and pillars; fine masonry only a German's meticulous hands and could build.  There were shops and hotels, large festival hall, an old mill, and the former Concert Hall, now a tavern. In fact it is the Oldest Operating Tavern West of the Mississippi!

If you were wondering how Germans got to mid-west Missouri, then fear not I have an explanation.  A large population of Germans settled in Philadelphia, PA.  Some of the more well-to-do members of the community made their way out here on the railroad and admired the rolling hills and winding path of the river.  It reminded them so much of the fatherland, they brought many others from PA to settled the area.  Passing though Rhineland, MO earlier it all suddenly made sense.  The Germans were so in love with the area and optimistic they built the streets of Hermann twice as big as the streets of Philly, thinking it'd grow to twice the size.  I guess they couldn't stand the inefficiency of street congestion.

In Hermann, the German traditions remain, and unlike more conservative areas of the mid-west, their attitudes towards good times seem to be positive.  Their festivals are supposed to be quite a spectacle, and the fact that it is attached to a bike trail lends itself to a safe good time for everyone.  There are two wineries in town and a third not far away as well as a brewery, Tin Mill, in the heart of downtown that makes wonderful, traditional German beer.  We were only in Hermann for a night and another afternoon, but you could feel the sense of community through the town.  At dinner they served the local beer and wine.  The aforementioned tavern's wine cellars were filled with local vintage, and though they had Bud and Coors in cans, their draft was strictly Tin Mill.  My wife particularly enjoyed the Midnight Whistle Dopplebock and I their Red Caboose Amber lager.  Gotta admit that was the best full flavored lager I've ever had, sorry Abita Amber.

Eldan picked us up at the tavern around 10:30 and was happy to drive us home to a warm bed and rest.

Katy Trail 2012: Day 2

Day 2:

New Franklin to Jefferson City to Tebbetts 65 miles.

Highlights: Loose Limestone, Diana Bend Conservation Area, Hellacious Hills, Pulled Hamstring, Reunion

Day 2 we awoke from our campsite around 9.  The shade provided at campsite 12 allowed us to sleep in a bit longer than the usual tent slumber period.  We went about at a slower pace, but surprisingly neither of us were sore from the day before.  We made a hearty breakfast of eggs and beans in tortillas then made tuna pita sandwiches for lunch on the trail.  We didn't actually hit the road until 11 and we still biked more than any other day.

Just outside of New Franklin was the most flat and barren of all the terrain we'd encountered thus far.  The trail stretched for miles and with the area so flat you could see all of the nothingness.  However as we neared the Missouri river the terrain did a complete 180.  Rocks started to appear.  Then bluffs.  Then we were riding alongside a huge rock face on one side and swamps on the other.  We had entered the Diana Bend Conservation Area.

The conservation area was beautiful.  Probably the most beautiful scenery on the whole trail - though my opinion could have been colored by the strong juxtaposition with area around New Franklin.  It was here that we saw buzzards living in the bluffs circling the swamps, harks soaring through the air, and our first trail snake! Bum Bum BUMMM!

My wife hates snakes, but they are quite common on the trail.  The first one we encountered was just off the trail, but we ran into a couple sunning right in the middle.  Mostly they were black in color and likely non-poisonous, mostly.

The Diana Ben Conservation Area ended at the city of Rocheport.  The entrance to the town was a tunnel carved out of the very rock that surrounded it.  It was bad ass.  We were charged about the scenery and we spent some time in Rocheport snacking and enjoying the glorious weather.  I'd highly recommend Rocheport.  Although we didn't stray far from the trail there were several park areas and side trails that led to green spaces and lush wilderness.  The conservation area continued as well.  On the other side of the tunnel it snaked around the bluffs with a lovely walking path.

We couldn't linger long in Rocheport. We had to meet up with our friends.  You see there was a few snags in our initial plans.  One of those was that St. Louis' Amtrak could only transport 4 bikes at a time, really not enough room for that; -1 for Amtrak.  We reserved our seats ahead of time along with 2 other women who boarded the train just outside of the city.  So our St. Louis traveling companions could not board with us.  Because of this, my wife and I spent the first day by ourselves.  On the second day they got on the same train from St. Louis, but only took it to Jefferson City.  Being further east, they arrived at 11:30, got lunch, and headed on the trail west while we headed east.

The original locomotive line must have been carved into the cliffs in this area as the trail was wedged between the rock face and the river.  I wasn't complaining.  The ground was quite flat, the limestone quite compact, and there was always something to look at.  We passed through the riverside shanty town of McBane.  As usual the trailhead history charts proclaimed this settlement as a former railroad boom town now in decline since it shutdown.  It's only claim to fame now is a water refinery whose artificial levee made it one of the few places that didn't flood in 1993.  As I understand it they call that *the* flood or the great flood.

Another notable fact about McBaine is that here is the Columbia Spur, an 8.8 miles shoot off that leads to the hip town of Columbia.  My wife's cousin used to live in that town and, after he talked it up, we intended on hanging out there.  He moved, however, before our trip so we ended up avoiding it altogether in favor of catching up with our travel partners and spending some time Jefferson, the capital city, some 25 miles further.

We passed by numerous settlements along the riverfront.  Most seemed like camps that were only in use at certain times in the season.  Some had full sized houses with make-shift general stores in them.  Advertisements for beer and food tantalized me, but we pressed on.  I almost lost it when we passed by Chim's Thai Restaurant.  I mean seriously, a Thai restaurant along the Katy trail nestled between RV's, tents and lawn chairs.  It turns out they have a location in Jefferson City and Columbia - I paused to note the Jeff City location while ascending the worst hill of my life!



Around 4 o'clock the clouds rolled in.  A strong head wind hit us and the sound of distant thunder could be heard.  It was at this time that I really noticed the utter flatness of Missouri.  Louisiana is flat and all but Missouri's stretching nothingness allowed us to see for miles.  The iPhone radar said the rain was passing very south of us, but I swear I could see it hitting some areas within our view.

We pulled in to Hartsburg.  You might guess it was a quaint little town with bed and breakfasts and eateries - Dotty's has got all you need - but the camping there is just a city park.  They'll let you camp but a fire or facilities is questionable.



What's that up ahead?  Could it be?  Our friends Marty and Nicole on their twin Long Haul Truckers coming down the road!  They had been biking east out of the capital, Jefferson City.  After lunch, and a meeting with their local congressman, we met up here in Hartsburg.

These guys gave us a second wind that carried us through the rest of the long day.  We found ourselves 10 miles down the road at N. Jefferson.  I don't know if North Jefferson is a town proper or just an area near Jefferson City much like New Franklin was to Franklin.  What I do know is that our arrival into Jefferson City started the beginning of what turned out to be the most miserable night of the trip.

I'm sure Jefferson City is a lovely town, but goddamn those hills!  The city proper is only 5 miles off the trail, but first is this gigantic gangplank to reach the bridge.  You must spiral around 5 ramps before reaching the crossing.

Once you do make it over the bridge you are met with a busy intersection and a total loss of bike lane.  Taking a left past 2 roads of traffic fully loaded, we then plummeted down a huge hill to be dropped off at the bottom of a equally steep hill this time ascending.

This new hill faced the capital building, which was gorgeous.  Puritan preacher, John Winthrop's "city on a hill" allusions were not lost on the good people of Missiouri.  We continued to climb; past the capital building, past other government facilities, past Chim's Thai Restaurant - hey! - until we met up with our new friend Dana Gray. 

Dana had tossed in with Marty and Nicole in St. Louis to join our tour.  She had gotten dropped off in Jeff City and actually visited with her congressman concerning bicycle policies.  While Marty and Nicole forged ahead to meet up with us, Dana scouted the area for places of interest.

We didn't arrive in North Jefferson until 5 or 6 and making our way through the hellish capital hills we met her at a pub 30 minutes later.  A few moments after we arrived, the rain started.  The food was just ok, but we were all thankful to have drinks that were cold and wet and to be somewhere warm and dry.

Perhaps what followed was our fault.  Our merry-making might have lasted too long.  The number of pints quaffed might have been too many, but we left that town close to 7:30 and didn't hit the trail until well after dark.  Our destination for that evening was Tebbetts.  There is a fantastic bike hostel there with bunk beds and showers for an honor donation of $5 per person per night.  It was about 10 to 12 miles away from N. Jefferson.  If you think we were cramming too much into one day I think you are correct.

So it was raining.  It was dark.  Real dark.  Missouri dark.  Clouds and rain and nothing else.  We had at least an hour ride.  It was at this point that I started to feel a strain in my leg.  While riding those hills through the capital city I had pulled something - hard.  It would bother me for the rest of the trail and slow us down considerably. 

I won't tell you about how we made it.  I won't tell you about the noctural night life on the trail.  I won't tell you about the conditions of the hostel.  Just reliving this day has tired me.  No, I shall save those stories for another day.