I had a route all planned out to get me into town today, but I missed my turn.  When I stopped to look at local maps at a gas station, I found that there's a new bridge across the Missouri River that wasn't on my maps, and that I could get there via the Katy Trail.

Encouraged by the campground owner's description of an off-road bike trail paralleling the River Road, I headed back east this morning rather than following US 61, even though 61 had a nice wide, paved shoulder.  Alas, the part of the road with the off-road trail was the part I skipped by going to the campground last night! 

I had hoped to get all the way to Cuivre River State Park today, but I drastically underestimated the hilliness of the Great River Road between Hannibal and Louisiana, MO.  It was a beautiful ride, but very slow going.  By the time I was ready to leave Louisiana, I knew there was no way I'd make the state park by sunset.

I had had to pack my tent very wet this morning, so I wanted to let it dry before trying to sleep in it again... so I went to the nearest campground, which was west of Louisiana, in Bowling Green.  Out of my way, but at least doable.

This morning as I was loading the Mac bag, I found a stash of acorns that someone -- squirrel? chipmunk? totoro? -- had carefully placed in the toilet-paper bag.  Whoever it was hadn't touched my food, probably hoping it would be there later, along with the toilet paper for a cozy nest.  I felt bad for spoiling such earnest preparations for the winter, but I couldn't very well return the acorns, so I left them under a tree.

Although I had a great visit at Sandhill, it felt really good to hit the road again today.

The only unusual thing that happened today was that a dog befriended me and followed me for about 7 miles.  I finally enlisted the help of another dog owner to keep him in one place while I rode away.  I enjoyed having the company for those miles, but I was afraid he wouldn't be able to find his way home, and he was getting very hot and thirsty.

I picked up the Great River Road at Canton and followed it through LaGrange to Wakonda State Park.

total distance: 51.84 mi

[posted to the Wheeled Migration Yahoo Group on October 6, 2004, immediately after the post about Sandhill and Dancing Rabbit]

Hi, folks! Sorry to send so much at once, but I was out of dialup range for quite a while. In my last message I promised to tell you why Abundance Ecovillage and Fairfield, Iowa knocked my socks off. Here goes...

[posted to the Wheeled Migration Yahoo Group on October 6, 2004]

Let's just say I misjudged the distance from Fairfield, IA to Rutledge, MO. I started getting anxious about the time before I was even in Missouri, but I called ahead to my destination and was offered a place to sleep in the barn that night. Encouraged by the prospect of not having to pitch my tent, and imagining at least three walls and some comfy straw, I pedaled on.

After breakfast at Sandhill this morning, I went to Dancing Rabbit for a tour.  Somehow I had expected the place to be a little more together; what I found was an eclectic assortment of homes in various stages of construction, essentially none completed.  Their organizational structure is more co-op based than communal, so that money is always changing hands from individuals to groups and back again, for phone service, electricity, water, time, cooking, composting, whatever someone needs.

This morning I got a great communal breakfast and a tour of the farm.  Sandhill has been a commune for over 30 years. At present it has 6 adult members and one child, plus three interns and a steady stream of visitors like myself.

The commune produces 80% of its own food, sells sorghum and maple syrup, honey, and tempeh both wholesale and retail, and trades minor crops with other local farms. They produce 700-800 gallons per year of sorghum alone, all of which sells, so they're doing all right!

I bit off more than I could chew today... the maps I had made it looks like one day's ride from Fairfield to Sand Hill, but it was more than that, at least with the wind and hills I encountered.  I was getting anxious about the time before I was even in Missouri, so I called ahead to Sandhill Farm and they assured me I could sleep in the barn.  Encouraged by the thought of at least three walls and some haybales, I pedaled on.