COMMUNITY: When enough is enough

Editor's note: Clark Anderson, 61, lives in Platteville, Wis., but spends his workweek in Postville, where he is employed by the USDA Food Safety Inspection Service.

By Clark Anderson, community contributor

In February, I wrote about my intent to ride my bicycle 1,500 miles in 15 days.

I did embark, as planned, on May 12 with that prospect in mind. As it turned out, however, I rode 900 miles in seven days.

What caused the change of plans?

Once I was out by myself, there was no one to confer with about what road to take or how many miles to go for the day.

So, at the end of seven days, I found out what it feels like to take on the challenge of a long distance bike trip. More wouldn't make it better.

I found myself putting in more than 100 miles a day. I hit the road each morning around 5:30. By 8:30 a.m., I could have logged 40 miles. After a break, I'd ride until noon and I'd have 75 or more miles completed.

After another break, I'd start to set a goal for where I wanted to stop for the night - someplace with a motel. Sometimes that meant going another 40 miles.

My shortest daily total was 105 miles. My longest was 190 miles.

At the end of the third day, I stopped for the night at Helena, Ark. That's when I made up my mind to head north for home rather than travel westerly across Arkansas.

My travel route took me southwest out of Nashville, on the Natchez Trace Trail. There is no truck traffic allowed on this parkway, so it is biker friendly - and quite hilly. I was on this trail on a Sunday and did meet a couple dozen bikers.

For the remaining six days, I only saw one bike on the highways that I traversed. I saw two bikers on the street by the St. Louis Arch.

Either I was on the wrong roads or there wasn't anybody biking.

When the Natchez Trail intersected the Mississippi border, I left the trail and crossed Mississippi on Highway 4. That route is hilly and forested. When I got into Arkansas and headed north, I was in the Mississippi River delta region, which is very flat.

The hills returned when I made my way through Missouri on Highway 67. This took me into St. Louis, which was easier to bike through than I had expected. I crossed the Mississippi River in St. Louis and picked up Highway 67 for my northward trek toward home.

Was it safe? Was it easy?

No, it was not entirely safe. Some vehicle traffic intentionally tries to get as close to you as they can without hitting you. It also was physically challenging. We had such a cold and rainy spring that I didn't start training until 30 days before the trip.

My training was sufficient from the cardio and muscle stamina. I don't know if one can ever train enough to prevent soreness in one's rear-end from sitting on that little seat.

l If anyone has any questions about making such a trip, contact me at clarkanders@hotmail.com.