The Dirty MissFit: Stupid "Bobby"

Missouri on a fat-bike, really there's no better way to see the Show Me state. Al and I set off on our fat-bike trekking/ birthday adventure on a Saturday a few weeks back. We had loose plans to ride 100 ish miles out and 100 ish miles back along the MKT trail (America's longest Rails-To-Trails project - 237 miles one direction).

chicken car. . .what else?

So young and full of life, the first mile

Over half of the trail follows Lewis and Clark's trip up the Missouri River under bluffs and through farmland, truly what one thinks of when one thinks "Americana". . . . there ya go, my nod to the travel writer right there.

We parked in the St. Charles FD parking lot (funny - drove 4.5 hours to park at an FD with the same name as the FD Al works at). Anyways, we loaded up the NOT a Bob trailer (we have a knock off) and pedaled westward. Again, we were aiming for 100 miles out and 100 miles back. Breakin' it down we thought with a late roll out we'd start with an easy 30 and find a B&B somewhere. A little under 30 we stopped in Augusta at the Augusta Brewery and spoke with the barkeep, Karen, who recommended a little B&B up the HILL.

See creepy pictures below, think. . .American Horror Story. I've never stayed in a B&B and I can say I won't be staying in another one any time soon....I don't care if the Chef is "Classically trained." The stuffed and mounted Jack-a-lopes, group dining and Ports on a platter were a little beyond my comfort zone.....I don't care how many bowls of M&Ms you have laying around . . . although I do love me some M&Ms.

Fat and loaded . . .not Al, the fatty and the not a bob trailer

We woke to big fluffy snowflakes falling outside of the 100 year old window. REALLY???? Weather Bug you failed me! Waiting it out until 10 we were able to partake in a three-course breakfast which included waffle boats, stuffed tomatoes, fruit smoothies, coffee, and macerated strawberries in Amaretto sauce (macerated sounds like something a bird might do to feed its young). With full bellies and a lot less in the wallet (B&B's are pricey), we were back in the saddle again (sing it Steven). Sucky part was it was cold and we weren't fully prepped for cold weather riding. We stopped at a local hardware store and bought work gloves and hoped for warmer weather as the day wore on.

Buffalo photo bomb

American Horror Story-esque

Spooktacular

It was clear after about an hour that we weren't going to be able to ride the 60 miles needed to get us to the next stop. We were cold, soaked and this wasn't fun anymore. We decided to call it a day after 40 which landed us in Hermann the Germantown. OMG, I totally forgot to mention the disaster on the trail. About 10 miles into our day the trailer with all of our worldly camp possessions / clothes and snacks broke. Like broke broke. Could not be fixed no matter how MacGyver we got on its ass. Here's a summation of the ideas we brainstormed. Finding a Post Office (most of the world knows the USPS isn't open on Sundays but we weren't thinking) and mailing our shit home. Calling our friend Karl and asking him to pick us up. Bailing on the whole adventure. Just ditching the trailer and hoping our belongings fell into the hands of a good natured cyclist who needed camp equipment, granola from Whole Foods and a French Press. What we decided on . . . there was an abandoned grain silo along the trail which we buried the trailer and our gear under brush and twigs. That's when we found out about Hermann the German town and opted make it our home base for two days. Taking with us only what we could carry in our backpacks including one change of clothes, a little bit of food and well, that's it. Camping was no longer an option.

Before the "not a bob" broke

Hermann the German town was fun. We found a winery. . .turns out Hermann is known for its wine. It was tres good. Best part of Sunday was being able to catch TWD even if it was on a 8" TV. We rallied on Monday (my 37th birfday) and took a day trip, rode 66.6 miles in honor of SATAN \m/. We found a local brewery known as the SawMill refueled and discussed our plans for Tuesday. We had two more days but decided we had seen what we came to see.

Tried out the Beaverguard
didn't work so well, muddy
biscuits!

We rose early the next day, found a doughnut shop in town and set out for the ride back to St. Charles. On the way back we detoured at the silo to check on our gear, it was still there, phew! Ditched more gear and rode the remainder of the way back to St. Charles.

shit really?

Things might not have gone as WE planned but things always go AS planned . . . I loved riding the fatty. I deff want to log more trekking miles. I was sad we weren't able to camp under the stars but sleeping in what I'm certain was a haunted house and then a motel for wayward door-to-doo sales men was kind of like camping......there were deff strange noises at night.