Day 23, Sedalia to Clinton, 36 miles

Today we would complete the Katy Trail and get back on the highways and by-ways of Missouri. From Sedalia, there is just over 30 miles of sweet bike track to Clinton, where the trail ends. From Clinton, we intended on making our way towards Kansas. Alas, my rear wheel had other plans

 It was a slow morning, we awoke in our makeshift storm-shelter feeling sleep-deprived and rusty. So it took longer to get packed up and on the trail. As the trail reaches the end of its' glorious 260mile path, the trees recede, giving you a nice view of the scorched fields and preserved prariieland to either side. However views also mean less shate, and it was 100 degrees so we were trying to keep a good pace (this ensures a bit of motion-induced 'breeze'!). Along the way we met Larry; a Californian 60-ish year old guy doing the Trans-Am in the opposite direction from us. He and his buddy had left their home in San Francisco 54 days ago, and were bound for Yorktown. Yet Larry was cycling alone; just 2 days ago, unexpectedly his mate had quit. It was obvious that Larry was still reeling from this departure - as anyone would be. We chatted awhile, Larry reminded me of 'The Dude' from the Big Lebowski (high praise!) We talked about drought and cycling through Utah before parting ways- Larry was thankfully off to meet an old high school friend in Sedalia, whom he'd not seen in 39 years. No doubt the kinship would do him good at this point of his ride. Before parting ways, he gave us his phone number and offered us his hospitality in San Fran. We will certainly look him up - if only to exchange road stories over beer. We had to take our helmet off to his resolve.

A few miles down the track, my back wheel started to weave drunkenly; our first flat of the trip. Unfortunately we were in a mercilessly shadeless, hot part of the trail. Yet Matt identified a tear in my tyre, mended it and the inner tube without much swearing. What a trooper! He had less restraint half an hour later; when the same thing happenened... Still, Matt was able to do a bodge-job with less resources the second time around. All I can do is uselessly stand around offering tools -an embarrassment to Womens' Lib.

We were able to 'limp' into Clinton but decided not to continue into the service-less beyond. It transpired even Clinton (a comparatively sizeable town of 9+ thousand)- doesn't have a bike shop. We hit up the Civic Centre, where a very helpful old lady and Janitor showerd us where we could set up camp (in a stand by the baseball field)-and more importantly, where we could shower. By this stage we were pretty disheartened by the bike blow-out, heat and lack of bike shop. The psychological restorative power of the shower is amazing. We each emerged with renewed hope; locked up the bikes and sauntered into town. Matt suggested to seek out the new batman film at the cinema - if only for the air conditioning.

While walking into town, I gave our mate Bruce a call. Bruce is living in Arizona but has just victoriously quit his soul-sucking job to set out on a road trip of his own. Bruce is smarter than us, and has bought a Mercedes for his venture. We hope our paths cross and will be checking in with his itinerary closer to his departure date next month. Legend!

Cinema showing times were hours away, so we hit up a bar/bowling alley for some beer (which is also known for its' rejuevenating properties.) We were served by Tabatha; a bubbly barmaid who wanted to know 'what y'all doing in the middle of nowhere?' When we told her of our bike ride, she just kept responding 'No. Way' to every further detail. It was very sweet. Tabatha looked younger than us but has 6 kids and as such couldn't really imagine leaving Clinton. She very helpfully suggested Wal-Mart for inner tubes (they had them - an awesome tipoff). When we asked for the bill, Tabatha insisted she pay for our first round. Our Southern Belle.

A few inner tubes later, Matt found himself in the tracter-beams of a Country Buffet. I had no right to intervene, after his sterling mechanicery today. These American buffets have to be seen to be believed. Counter after counter, groaning under the weight of every salad, dressing, meat, bread, pasta, cake, pie, icecream and topping under the sun. Shamefully, we are certainly not above 'buffet mentality' and struggled to walk out of there. Lets' hope my back wheel lets us get some decent mileage in tommorrow!

When we waddled back to the baseball field, it was mild and breezy. Given the absence of insects, we decided to bivvy-out under the shelter rather than put the tent up. This was convenient as we were too full to contemplate constructing the tent.