Lessons From the Katy Trail
Nora and I rode the Katy Trail across Missouri a couple weeks ago. On bicycles. Bicycles without batteries.
I say that because we’re quite proud of the fact that the whole 240 miles* was done under our own power and gravity. But gravity doesn’t count – half the time it’s giving you a nice downhill coast, and the other half it’s giving you a drenching uphill sweat. Break even at best.
Since we are enthusiastic members of Lifelong Learners GTX, always curious about what’s just around the bend, we wanted to learn something from our trek. Here are 10 things we learned, because we always learn 10 things if we’re paying attention:
1. The definition of a trailhead is that place where you discover you brought things you don’t need and didn’t bring things you need but it’s too late to get it right.
2. Railbanking means that some abandoned railways can be used for other purposes like hike and bike trails but must be maintained in good condition in case the railroad wants to reinstall tracks someday. I’m trying to imagine a reason for that. Nostalgic cattle drives to the nearest depot? Interstate highways all crumble at once? Everyone decides to quit flying? In the meantime, good maintenance means excellent trails.
3. I looked down my nose at electric bicycles because I’m a snob. They seem impure to a purist. Yet again, I was wrong. We met several bikers who could only be out there because of their batteries and motors. For example, one had blown out her knees from too much snow skiing with her kids. She and her husband were having a great time enjoying the beauty of the woods and bluffs and tunnels and farmland. He was quick to tell us that he hadn’t used his motor yet. I thought, “Good for them!” Of course I still look down my nose at young e-bike riders whizzing past as if they own the place; they need more exercise.
4. We first met the big old Missouri river at Boonville, elevation 679’. We last saw it in Machens, elevation 433’1” (Yes, Google AI really included that 1 inch. You could change everything with an old shovel.) So in 240* miles the river drops 246’. About one foot per mile. Think about that for a sec. Talk about a lazy river! How does it even keep moving.
6. 400,000 people use the trail each year. Apparently only about 6 do it in June because we were by ourselves most of the time. Some people must read the weather forecasts, which wouldn’t have been a bad idea for us. Only a little rain one day, but that heat dome was like riding in a toaster oven when we weren’t in the shade.
7. Missouri country folks are friendly. At our first restaurant one of them paid our bill without telling us. Others stopped their cars to make sure we knew where we were going. I’m not sure why they thought that might be necessary.
8. White hair is magical. Nora got tons of encouragement and admiration for doing the whole trail while hauling all her own gear. I got a lot of nuthin’ for doing exactly the same thing she was. Women who keep coloring their hair have no idea what they’re missing.
7. Riding through history and having time to ponder it is profound. We tracked Daniel and Rebecca Boone. We followed Lewis and Clark. We ate where Truman was when he heard he’d been elected president. We rode in an elevator that was 97 years old, same as my mom. Of course it has been remodeled and she hasn’t, but still…. And since we rode the path of the old railroad, there were historical tidbits along the way.
8. People are fun. On Sunday evening we walked to a Dairy Queen opened in 1951. That’s the year I was born and I felt an obligation to have a banana split. Walking up to it we passed a car that had stenciled across the hood, “Fuel your body with the best nutrition.” There was an outdoor line waiting to order (remember those days?) so I asked loudly, “Who owns the car with the thing about best nutrition?”
A couple immediately responded that they did, and we should buy their supplements containing 54 vitamins and minerals, some of which our bodies don’t make. I said I might consider that, but first I had to get past the fact that we met them in line at Dairy Queen. They laughed and said everyone has to cheat once in a while, apparently because our bodies don’t make soft-serve ice cream either.
9. Nothing to do with biking, but I learned at a Texas rest stop that a Carnation cow named Segis Pieterje Prospect (really!) produced a record 37,381 pounds of milk in a single year, or over 11.9 gallons a day. The next time you go to the grocery store, pick up a gallon of milk, or better yet 12 of them. She was a beast. You know that old riddle: Q:“Where do you get dragon milk? A: From short-legged cows.” Or from cows that are dragging 12 gallons of milk all day. There’s a statue of her but none of Carl Gockerell who milked her every six hours all year. That guy was all fantastic forearms and fat fingers.
10. Mostly we learned that even at our age, we could do it and enjoy it. And that sets the stage for whatever comes next. What’s next for you?
*I used the official figure of 240 miles, but that’s actually for the whole trail and not how far we rode because our lodging was only right by the trail one time, and even then we had to go somewhere for meals. Believe me, we counted every mile including moving the bikes across the living room.
