Column: Day three on the Katy: Half pain, half pleasure

Bluffton — Day three on the Katy Trail was equally divided into two parts — pleasure and pain.

My mother, Sherlyn, and I are more than halfway through our 225-mile ride of the Katy Trail in five days. Today is our lightest (thank heavens) with 30 miles to Peers. We hope to finish Tuesday in St. Charles, and plan to take the Amtrak home.  

The first 30 miles of our 60-mile day on Sunday were lovely. Our first stop was at what is believed to be Missouri’s oldest tree, a giant burr oak about 300 years old. It is magnificent. In a completely unscientific way, (My mom used her 5-feet, 4-inch arm span and hugged the tree all around) we measured the diameter at 26 feet, 8 inches (it took five hugs).

We spent quite a bit of time at the Eagle Bluff Observation Area. A sign at the bottom of the straight uphill hike says: “Strenuous climb, beautiful view.”

“We laugh in the face of strenuous,” my mom said.

A hundred stairs later, neither one of us was laughing (but our buns sure were burning). The sign was accurate 100 percent on both counts.

About a dozen eagles circled over our heads when we reached the observation deck, which overlooked the Missouri river bottoms. We called it the 9:30 a.m. show. We also saw two all-white cranes in the water. It appeared we could see for hundreds of miles from our vantage point. It was simply breathtaking.

The wildlife on this part of the trail changed from previous sections. More frogs jumped along the path, and flying grasshoppers showed up later. We started the day with a snake count of zero and ended it with five.

Lunch at a winery in Hartsburg capped off our first 20 miles; then it was onto North Jefferson, the halfway point to the day.

Throughout this trip my legs held up just fine, but the biker butt was beginning to set in. Once my hiney touches that seat, I can immediately feel where it was the 94 miles from the past two days. I never really thought about having bones back there until the past two days. You couldn’t tell from lookin’, but there really are bones, and that’s what hurts. Tomorrow may be a Preparation H day.

My bum troubles turned out to be the least of my problems. Recently, the outside part of my left foot has started hurting after about 20 miles. It’s been uncomfortable, but not out of control. I’m unsure of the cause. It could be my shoe rubbing, or pressure from the pedaling.

But, at 30 miles in on Sunday, uncomfortable turned to painful. I held out for another 10 miles before wrapping it with Gauztape. That got me about another 15 miles before I had a meltdown in Portland, just five miles from our bed and breakfast for the night.

I will also mention that during this painful moment in time we traveled by far my least favorite stretch of the trail. North Jefferson to Mokane is neglected and overgrown. One side of the trail parallels a highway while the other is bordered by dead plants and weeds that cover all the trees.

We encountered several areas of the trail washed out by flood waters. Riding over the “good” portions of the wash out is similar to riding a bicycle over a giant washboard. (You can imagine how that felt on my derrière).

These washed out sections led my mother to say things like, “Dad gum it” and “Well, for cryin’ in a bucket.” We came across a part, just before a bridge, where we had to walk our bikes. “You could lose your false teeth there,” Mom said.

After Mokane, the Katy I love began to return. The Mighty Mo and bluffs that could be better than the ones Rocheport has to offer reappeared. But, that is when the pain really started to take over.

After another round of Gauztape and three socks, I tried to ignore the aching. Then a strange series of events happened. I hit a squirrel with my bicycle, then seconds later a large crane swooped over the trail just a couple of feet in front of us and went to the bathroom in mid-flight.

I’m still trying to figure out if nature is trying to send me a message.