Day 21 Camden - Tennessee

Greetings from Dickson
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''You all goin' fr a ride then?'', it was a question undoubtedly directed in my direction, as i had just wheeled my bike out of my motel room, and was busy connecting the trailer to it. The inquisitive voice belonged to my neighbor, and i looked up to see him leaning against his door frame, having his morning cigarette, he was a big fella, built like so many are out here, with a belly that meant he probably hadn't looked directly at his feet for some time, with short cropped red hair, and a long droopy moustache that was doing a good job of hiding in a couple of days worth of stubble. In short the sort of bloke, that if you accidently knocked his drink over in a bar, your wallet wold be out, with an offer to buy him and all of his friends another drink, faster than your brain could ask your feet ''Why did i let you bring me in here in the first place?'' There followed the usual pattern of questions, and ended it with a fraise that a lot of folks say to me ''You go careful out there'', as if i was determined to risk everything by not 'going careful'. There was a pregnant pause, which for some reason i felt i needed to fill, i fumbled around in my cliche draw, and came up with some thing like ''you've got to live life now cos you never know......'' etc. He agreed with me, and went on to tell me about how he nearly lost his life when he wrote off his truck, that left him tapped inside, with lots of bits of him broken, and a fractured skull, but he obviously survived, and it was due in no small part, because ''someone was looking over me, and i survived because 'He' had a reason for me to'', then this great big 'truck drivin' guy, started to tell me, as i stood there in my tight cycling shorts trying to look tough, how he was now a changed man, how he had realized that his wife didn't love him, so he left her,as he had just left his present girlfriend, but it was ok because ''everything is for reason''. And so with an exchange of names, his was Steve, we parted, and as i turned back to my room, he wished that ''the good lord would ride with me, and keep me safe''. A very strange encounter, especially before breakfast!

Lifting Rail Bridge at Johnsonville
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I was aiming to get to a town called Martin, near the border with Kentucky, sometime over the next few days, to meet with some friends. It was about 100 miles from where i found myself this morning, and i thought, with a good ride,i could 'crack' it in one go, but if not, i would try to do 70 to Paris Tennessee. Before i set out at 8.15 which is for me an early start, I had spent a bit of time repacking the panniers and trailer, because i wanted to get some weight of off the back wheel, but after only a couple of miles, i had to stop to do it again, because i didn't like the 'feel' of the trailer, but for some reason, i never managed to get it settled all day. I passed through the old part of Dickson, which was very nice, not with anything in particular special about it, but it reminded me that, with so many of these small towns that are near intersections, the 'outer shell' of chain Motels, eateries and car sales, that bombard our vision and senses, often hide, and guide us away from a peaceful inner 'kernel' that is the real soul of the local community. As i moved out of town, the landscape today was 'long' rolling hills, which would have been fun if the trailer was behaving, plus it was one of those days when i just couldn't get my legs going, and i just didn't feel comfortable, i wasn't able to get out of the saddle much, so my backside started to complain, and my hands were painful. At times like these, the first 10 miles seem to take forever, with the physicological burden that it seems impossible to do any distance at all. Usually by the time 20 miles is done,things are starting to 'settle' and i am ok for the day, but today was one off those when it doesn't, and i start, trying to work out what is wrong, take extra breaks, try to vary the type of drink i take on, eat a muesli bar or some fruit, or maybe treat myself with a bit of 'soul' food in the form of some chocolate, but nothing would work, and even though the hills dropped away, as i slipped down into a valley following the course of the Trace Creek as it makes it's way towards the Tennessee River. Eventually, just outside of the town of New Johnsonville, after only doing 30 miles, i just had to stop and rest, it was 12 o'clock and 100 degrees, although, that doesn't feel hot to me. Back home it was 6 pm so i tried to call Jem, cheer myself up,but because i was in the valley, i had no signal. I just felt like i wanted to have '40 winks',but thought if i lay down, i would be bound to attract the attention of some 'good samaritan', and would probably wake to find them giving me resuscitation. So i just rested, knowing now that it would not be possible to achieve the 100 today, and adjusted my target to Paris. When i forced myself back on the bike,i found that the rest was just what i needed, and feeling more comfortable and happier, i rolled through the town, and on to the bridge to cross the river. Next to it was a rail bridge, that at first i couldn't understand, until i realized it was a lifting rail bridge, with two towers festooned with cables and windlasses that would lift the entire middle section in the air. I was sorry now that i had stopped earlier to watch a fright train pass alongside the road, to count the carriages (75), and wave to the driver, as i would have liked to see it using the bridge, which looked like it was in dire need of a lick of paint. I'm not sure when this one was built, but it replaced an earlier one from the turn of the last century, and was necessary to enable the old steam boats with their tall smoke stacks to pass on their way upstream.

Some one to ride with me

Lifting Rail Bridge at Johnsonville
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Got to go now, but still to come - the death of Patsy Cline, and a 'can do' attitude changes to 'I can't be F***ed'