1999-10-23 Boy did I go through some nice looking country this morning. There was little traffic. The road wound its way between the mountains and over creeks and through some farmland all the way to Jamestown. After that it was just rolling hills with heavy traffic and lots of houses. Here's how I differentiate between a hill and a mountain: I can peddle to the top of a hill without taking a break. A mountain offers no such luxury. That's all you need to know. By that definition, I only hit one mountain so far today. When I was near the top this guy in a street sweeping truck pulled over to talk to me. (I had already taken a break) My mom always warns me not to talk to strangers. Now I know why. This guy was strange. He spoke clear enough, but he was kind of quiet in a hush-hush sort of way. He asked me war I 'as headin'. I answered, Atlanta. He then asked what I thought was, "Got the wind with ya?" So I answered, "Yeah, it's really nice." Apparently I didn't answer the question he asked because he repeated it until I got it: "Got any women with ya?" I will not repeat any of what he said after that, but suffice to say the conversation went downhill in a big, vulgar way. My best guess is he owned a cat house or was related to somebody who did and was out drumming up business. Eventually I just told him I had to go and continued up that mountain. I FINALLY saw another "bike gypsy" on the road today. He was heading north while I went south. I tried waving to him, but he seemed to ignore me. Now this guy was much more of a "gypsy" than I am. He had no trailer, but a lot more stuff. It was tied and strapped to every available location on his bike. There was even a guitar case in there. I was kind of impressed that he could both pack that bike and then ride it. I guess I'm a bit prideful, but when I look at my bike and gear I see something almost professional. I receive a lot of compliments on my setup. Finding a phone this morning was a lot of fun. I didn't find one for about 30 miles, although I think I missed a few. The lady in one store told me there wasn't another one for "tan miyals." I'm now eating lunch at a place called Huddle House on the north side of Crossville, TN. Okay food. Well, I've had my rest. Figured I'd share this morning's activities before I forgot them.

Tennessee