Day Two: Flemingsburg to Vanceburg to Grayson (Fleming, Lewis, and Carter Counties)

November 1, 2025

It was chilly this morning, so I delayed my departure until well after 9:00. I took a photo of the bike in front of the old courthouse, ignoring the modern "Judicial Center" at the foot of the hill. At the time of its construction back in the 2000s, there was criticism from some residents about the resemblance of the new building's dome to that of a mosque. I assume these people have now moved on to other things to be outraged about.

I was a little startled by the presence on the courthouse lawn of a sign advertising Suboxone, a drug used to treat opioid addiction.

I rode through Flemingsburg, but I didn't feel like taking many photos to document the decline of my hometown.

There have been many businesses in the old brick building below. At one time it was a department store, where I purchased some of my first record albums as a thirteen-year-old. Now it's a business whose hand-lettered sign advertises hair "extentions" (sic).

I made a stop at the most popular establishment in Flemingsburg: The Dairy Queen. I didn't feel like eating any of their greasy breakfast fare this morning. Instead I wanted to see if they still had the photo of Bill Clinton on the wall.

They did. In 2008, when Hillary Clinton was running in the Democratic primary, her husband made a campaign appearance on her behalf at the DQ. He was very popular in Fleming County before its massive swing to the Republican party. I was a little surprised this was still on the wall in the Trump era:

I rode out of town up Mockingbird Hill. There was now an Apostolic Church on the property that, I believe, was once the drive in movie theater. I have vague memories of my parents taking my brother and me to the drive in in the mid 70s, where I recall seeing one movie there, Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry, which we probably shouldn't have been watching at eight or nine years old.

I believe this is the site of the former drive in.

Babs Nash, here's a nice idea for repurposing a used tractor tire, if you have one sitting around.

I rode briefly on busy US-32, where an angry driver honked at me, something that's actually very uncommon in this area, where drivers are mostly patient, and then I turned onto Secrest Crossing, a pleasant country road that was frequently mispronounced "Secrets Crossing" by locals when I lived in the area.

"Secrest" (or is it "Secrets")? Crossing.

Secrest Crossing dumped me onto the slightly wider and busier Wallingford Road (KY-559). I was now in what I believe is called the Knobs region. Lots of hills that are too small to be mountains, I guess, although that's what we called them when I was young.

There are lots of Mennonite families in this area, and many homes have signs like this one:

Apropos, given that I have to ride up "Wallingford Mountain" in a few miles?

I took a break at the Wallingford Methodist Church. One of my grandfathers, a Methodist minister, preached there years ago, and my other set of grandparents attended for many years, and are buried in the cemetery behind the church.

The Wallingford church left the United Methodist Church a few years ago, during some political kerfuffle, primarily, I believe, over the conservative Methodists' dislike of gay people. The break-away Methodists are now part of a "Global" Methodist church. Ironic, given these same conservatives' hatred of anything smacking of "globalism" these days.

I was carrying a large Salted Nut Roll in my handlebar bag. Joy had found it somewhere on one of her travels and brought it to me. I like the regular Salted Nut Rolls, but this one, flavored with Skippy peanut butter, was just too, too sugary. I could barely get it down. Why didn't I stop eating it, once I realized it was making me nauseated? That's a good question.

I headed out of Wallingford, and slowly climbed Wallingford Mountain. When I first started riding, this climb was almost impossible for me.

After that were several flat miles, and I entered Lewis County.

Almost immediately after arriving in Lewis County, a pack of dogs came out to chase me, but it was flat, and I had a tailwind, so I easily outran them.

The ride to Vanceburg, the Lewis County seat, was very, very nice. The sun was out, and it had warmed up. My route alternated flat sections with little climbs.

I arrived in Vanceburg (pop. 1,428) and took a picture of the bike in front of the courthouse.

There was an interesting memorial near the courthouse - very different than every other Civil War memorial I've seen in Kentucky:

I was still feeling the effects of the ultra-sugary nut roll, and was craving something salty. I could smell greasy food nearby, but it actually took me a couple of minutes to locate its source, a tiny bar and grill on a side street:

I walked in, and was greeted by the bartender, Bobby, a slight man about my age. There were only a few tables in the establishment, and they were occupied, so I sat at the small bar and ordered a grilled cheese and fries.

A man and woman, also around my age, entered and sat next to me at the bar. Bobby, whose voice had a slight lilt, welcomed them. "Hello, Baby Darlin! How you doin?"

The woman replied "Oh Bobby, I bet that's what you call all the girls!", then her companion added "And some of the boys!". Bobby laughed at that.

I ate my grilled cheese and fries and did more people watching (and listening.)

Bobby whispered to the couple next to me, "There's going to be a riot at that table over there", then changed the TV channel briefly way from the football game. As he predicted, within seconds, the table of men and women erupted: "Now Bobby, what are you doing!?" He quickly changed it back, laughing.

I finished my meal, left a substantial tip in exchange for the entertainment that was provided, then looked around the pretty Vanceburg riverfront for a while.

There was a neat mural at the fire department at the bend in the river:

The rest of downtown had a lot of abandoned storefronts, but the local people were trying to spruce things up with murals, which were nice.

I left town on an empty country road that quickly became very, very hilly. After that I rode a few miles on highways 10 and 9, both of which had large shoulders.

I'd worked out a route a few days ago that had me leaving highway 9 (Called "The Double A" by locals for semi-obscure reasons) for a series of country roads the rest of the day. I was slightly concerned that some of these roads might not exist, or might end in a creek, but I decided to take a chance and ride them anyway, instead of the safer, but boring alternative of "The Double A".

This was right choice, since these roads were awesome. Almost completely empty, and very scenic.

I quickly left after taking this photo, when I realized I was standing in a cloud of bees.

Most of the route was very, very empty, but I did ride through one little community, Carter City (no population listed) which had a few old, closed establishments, and, surprisingly, a large still-operating furniture store.

After that, there was a memorable climb:

I turned off my narrow state road onto an even narrower county road. This was the section I'd been concerned about. Would it end in a creek, at a gate, or in someone's driveway?

The road narrowed. I observed that it was narrower than this home's driveway:

The road turned to gravel, at the foot of what the elevation profile on the map app on my phone indicated was a big climb:

I initially had trouble riding up it, because my rear tire spun in the gravel, but after that it was fine.

I passed a modest home with dozens of ATVs, and dozens of their riders, outside having a cookout. Some of the called out "Hello!" as I rode past, and I was tempted to stop and talk, but I felt self conscious in my bicycle get-up, and also felt the need to keep moving, so I waved back and continued on.

After that there was an exciting dog chase, maybe the fourth one of the day. For the first time I got out the "Halt!" pepper spray and sprayed a dog who got too close my wheel. He immediately stopped and ran to the ditch and rubbed his face in the grass. I hope he learned his lesson about running into the road.

After a few more miles I rode onto a frontage road next to I-64 for the last few files to my motel in Grayson, taking only one more picture, a large sign for one of the many Pentecostal churches I'd seen today:

I arrived at the Days Inn, did my usual post-ride chores, and ordered a pizza from Pizza Hut, only realizing later that it was literally only a few feet from the motel, and I could have avoided the delivery fee by just walking over and picking it up! That was dumb.

Ironically, the delivery driver, possibly confused that someone next door to the Pizza Hut would request a delivery, headed the wrong direction initially and was several minutes late.

One other piece of excitement: Later, a hotel employee knocked on my door. She was investigating a water leak in the room beneath mine, and initially tried to get me to change rooms, something I was averse to doing. We compromised: She'd put a bucket in the room below mine, and I wouldn't run the shower tomorrow.

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Today's ride: 73 miles (117 km)
Total: 132 miles (212 km)

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