New Haven
I slept through a down pour in New Haven, KY in the woods. The only time I got caught in the rain so far on this trip!

Lost, Naked and Cold

New Haven

I took a rest day yesterday. I slept in until 7 AM.  Jimmy made me a cup of black coffee and we just lounged around watching television.  He let me take a shower, which felt amazing, as I have not had one in days.  We were supposed to head out to that party on Old Bloomfield Road, but Thomas was far too hungover and cancelled so I decided to pack up the rest of my belongings and head out.  Before I left Jimmy gave me some apples for the road.  They picked them up off a job they were landscaping.  The apples were quite delicious and it was the perfect snack to munch on while riding.

I left around 2 PM and said bye to Jimmy.  I headed towards Bardstown where I found a nice little restaurant called, “A Down Home Barbq.” I ordered the pork dinner, which came with two sides of mac n’ cheese and potato salad.  The tender pork melted in my mouth and had the right amount of barbecue sauce.  I ate slow to savor the moment.  The tangy taste and sweet aroma of the mac n’ cheese and potato salad definitely filled me up.  I wish I could have taken some with me on the road without it spoiling.  As a parting gift they gave me a piece of cornbread…now normally I am not a fan, but I scarred it down in the matter of seconds.  The sweet, crispy taste went well with the dinner and all for a fair price of $7.00.

After that scrumptious meal I pedaled onward to Old Kentucky Home Campground.  I scoped out the place and realized it was not plausible to stay there due to the orientation of the campsite.  I would have been spotted.  So I tried to head towards the next campsite, which was a little over 25 miles away. The sunset and dark clouds loomed in so I went into overdrive.  I knew I would not make it there before dark or before the storm so I kept my eyes peeled for a decent place to sleep.  I found a stealth spot behind a fire house, but I wanted more tree coverage in case it rained.

A few miles down the road I stumbled upon a cozy spot in the woods off of Route 52.  Just as I began setting up my shelter it began to downpour. My book of , “War and Peace” destroyed, my journal waterlogged, clothes saturated, backpack dripping wet.  I won’t lie, it sucked, but I knew this night would come eventually.  I stripped naked and curled into a fetal position inside my sleeping bag, zipped up my bivy sack and engulfed the tarp over me to protect from the rain.  I barely slept, but once it stopped I dozed off peacefully to gain a few hours of rest.

At the moment, I am tidying up my panniers and waiting for my clothes to dry at a church off of Route 47.  I hope to make it to Louisville so I am one step closer to Indiana to visit Trevor.

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Brian Cray is not a cyclist. He’s not a hitchhiker. He’s not a train hopper or an adrenaline junkie. He’s just an ordinary man with gypsy blood in his veins, who can’t seem to settle down. Nothing defines him. He goes wherever this world takes him on this journey we call life, roaming the world, at will, by any means. He aspires for a life of indefinite travel, a tiny home in the woods for him and his wife, and any work that keeps him wanderin’. Brian Cray is a travel writer at heart, sharing his stories with the world one keystroke at a time.

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