Memphis, TN to St. Louis, MO
Day 15 April 1
79F in the a.m. Not a cloud in the sky as we left Memphis . The bike route follows the Greenway, then
winds through neighborhoods, past a cypress swamp full of ‘knees’, the root extensions of the trees that some think help the respiration of the tree.
It was on this road that we passed two bikers with flashing
red lights on the backs of their bikes.
We thought about stopping to talk to them, but didn’t. After turning left onto a busier road, we
stopped a short ways up so that Mike could take some photos of the cypress swamp. That’s when
the 2 bikers caught up with us and Mike flagged them down to talk. A man and a woman, they were from Memphis and were regular
bikers and had even mapped a route south of Memphis earlier in the month. Ward Archer was the man’s name, but I didn’t
get the woman’s. They were intrigued
with our planned Mississippi
bike trip, the woman saying several times, “I’d love to do that..” They told us
about using GPS .com to find maps
and routes. Ward also told us they were
head to the Shelby Forest General Store.
We didn’t realize our route would take us to the same spot, but it did.
While we stood talking to them, bicycle riders singly and in
groups passed on both sides of the highway.
Memphis
appeared to be a very bicycle oriented town, at least compared to the other
cities we’d visited.
The Shelby Forest General Store turned out to be an old
wooden building on a corner of an intersection. When we drove past it had just
been invaded by a horde of motorcyclists. As we slowly turned the corner we saw
written on the wall of the store, “World famous cheeseburgers.” Since it was lunch time we decided to
stop. They also advertised ‘Fried
bologna and turkey melts’.
The inside of the store was filled with people standing in
front of the counter; animal trophy heads, antlers and snake skins hung on the
walls and were draped over the exposed beams; and behind the counter three
women worked feverishly at a grill. A
very loud and talkative man was handling the cash register. When we checked out to pay, we reminded him
that we had ordered ‘sodas’. “Sodas” he
exclaimed. “Where are you from?” We told
him Minnesota
and said that we could have said, ‘pop’.
He laughed at that too. When we
asked what they call them ‘down here’.
He said we call everything a “Coke”.
You could order a can of root beer and we’d say ‘Coke’.” Now it was our turn to laugh, but he joined
in.
One of the women behind the counter said, several times,
“Thanks for your patience folks.” The
motorcycle club had arrived en masse and they had 30 orders to fill. We sat at the counter reading newspapers,
while we waited for our world famous cheeseburgers. They were good ones and the atomosphere/clientele
in the store was worth the stop.
We talked about the heat with the proprietor when we left
and he said they’d broken a record yesterday and were due to break one again
today.
The next road we took was two laned, curvy and rural. Suddenly up ahead on the road we saw an
animal trotting towards us. At first we
assumed it was a dog, then we saw that it was all white and I said ‘fox’ (the
farm raised kind), but Mike said, “NO. That’s a raccoon” And so it was. We slowed down, but the raccoon veered into
the woods. Mike jumped out of the car
and ran in pursuit with his camera, but the little white bandit
disappeared. Neither one of us has ever
seen an albino raccoon.
We were very appreciative of the MRT signs when they were in
place, but we found them missing at some critical junctures, which ended up
sending us in circles. We tried to
follow the written directions in the MRT guidebook but they were not always helpful
either.
By 2:15 ,
it was 85F and puffy clouds floated overhead. At 4:15 it had reached 90F.
Mother Nature’s April Fools Joke on us humans.
We reached St.
Louis around 6:30
and drove to our hotel – a Hyatt located just across the street from the
Arch. Our room had a fabulous view
looking towards the Arch and the river beyond.
They had designed the hotel so most rooms had this perspective. Whenever we were in the room, Mike sat in a
comfortable chair next to that window and took photos.
John Oehler, our friend Beth’s brother and one of our Lake
Superior Voyaguer Canoe companions had driven over from Cincinnatti, to join us
for the evening. And also so he and Mike
could sample bourbons. This was a shared
interest they discovered during the canoe trip.
We were very pleased that he was able to take the time to come over and
meet up with us.
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