Tolls

No sights yesterday, just a grueling day of biking about 70 miles from Woodbury through Murfreesboro, Smyrna, downtown Nashville, and stopping in a small town called Joelton. 

I reached a breaking point today. With temps over 90, high humidity, and waffle house as my best option for breakfast, my body gave out before Smyrna. My arms were numb, my hands were bruised, my butt skin was rashed and numb, and my legs dangled beneath me unable to peddle anymore. I began to sway back and forth. I realized that this was dangerous. I pulled over in Smyrna intent on surrendering to defeat.

I consulted my remote support team. Three of them advocated for defeat. I had also reached the point of accepting that decision. However, my dear friend Maag grilled me hard about what I could offload. Through tough decision making, I offloaded about 12 pounds worth of gear, sent it home via the post office, and peddled on with the intent of seeing how much easier it would be en route to Nashville. Although the bike still felt like a boat, it felt more like a sternwheeler than the titanic. 

The sky rumbled and a strong head wind added challenge. The temps had dropped about 10.  I decided to push on.  I had my first brush with car death near the Nashville airport. Why do people need to drive that close to bikers and why do they need to honk as they pass?

In Nashville, I didn’t see one music venue. All I saw were battered homes and trash in the streets. I suppose that this route had taken me through some of the poorer sections of town. That was OK with me. Like much of the south, not much had changed in the 183 years since the Cherokee passed through.

I learned that the Cherokee had to pay tolls often to cross bridges to get over rivers or use certain roadways. Many didn’t have clothes or food let alone money for tolls. Can you believe that people were so ruthless, that they prohibited passage of a battered and broken group of several hundred people over their bridges or on their roads? Although there were some helpers, largely the Cherokee had to face adversity around every corner. In order to pass, they often times had to travel around these toll areas, instead going through rougher areas of terrain or poorer towns. This made the journey markedly more difficult.

Despite this common practice, evidence suggests that the removed Cherokee did pass over the Cumberland River on the 1823 Toll Bridge in Nashville. I’d really like to know the story behind that passage.