Spring Getaway on Missouri’s Historic Katy Trail春游密苏里凯蒂步道

马特·克罗斯曼 译/何梓健 审订/肖文

She was 60 or so， and pedaling her bike on the Katy Trail， a nearly 240-mile path across Missouri built on an old railway. She headed west， and I passed her headed east on the final morning of my four-day quest to ride the full route. Straw-colored hair marbled with gray fell out of her bike helmet. Crinkles shot from her eyes， evidence of a lifetime wearing that mammoth1 grin.

A little enviously， I found myself wondering， What happened， that day and in all the decades before， to make her smile like that？ What’s her secret？ I tugged on2 my brakes to stop， turn around and chase her down to ask. But I let her go. I’d rather imagine her answer.

That was on a Tuesday. I had arrived on the previous Saturday with three friends at the Katy’s westernmost trailhead in Clinton， Missouri， in a sour mood.

One of my fellow riders works in agriculture， and as we set out， he narrated the fields we pedaled through. Soybeans， he said， and then soybeans， and then—hey， look！—more soybeans. We crested3 no hills， rounded no turns. Nothing changed. Just miles of sameness. After months of chaos， I found the monotony comforting.

Deep in one field， we stopped for a drink. Two men from Colorado broke， too， and struck up4 a socially distant chat. We told them we were riding toward our homes near St. Charles， a historic community just outside St. Louis that’s best known as the launch point of the Lewis and Clark expedition5. We climbed back on our bikes. “Have a great ride，” one of them said， and in a light-hearted reference to their speed （slow） relative to ours （less so）， he added， “We’ll never see you again！”

I pushed the pedals with more verve6 after that. Usually I’m the one who sparks conversations. I ask about the city on your shirt or the team on your hat. On the Katy， people pestered me with7 questions. It started with the Coloradans. It continued for four days.

“Where are you from？”

“How far are you riding？”

“Those shorts are hideously tight—why are you wearing them in public？”

The idle small talk sprung a small leak in the anxiety I carried， and it slowly spilled out behind me. I didn’t realize I had given into isolation until I stepped out of it. Soon， instead of craving shelter from the storm， I ran like a fool into the rain， head tilted back， drinking big drops. I couldn’t wait to get to the next stop to yak it up8 with strangers I found there.

The Katy Trail has always been a through-way for travelers. For about 100 years following the Civil War， trains rumbled along tracks controlled by the Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad （nickname： MKT， or Katy）. The route fell into disrepair in the ’70s. In 1987， the state adopted the corridor with a vision to establish Katy Trail State Park. A pioneer conversion of its kind， it remains the longest rails-to-trails bike path in the U.S.

Flat and wide， the Katy draws both families for short excursions and endurance athletes who want to pile on miles. （I fall somewhere in the ambitious middle.） Hikers， runners and bikers share the gravel path in spring， summer and fall， joined by cross-country skiers and even mushers in winter. Historic depots converted to trailheads pop up every 9 or 10 miles， so you can easily drive anywhere to park and hop on for a short out-and-back ride. One-way cyclists can hire a shuttle service—that’s what we did—or ride Amtrak9 with their bikes between Sedalia and Hermann.

After lunch on day two， we crossed high over the Missouri River at Boonville. The trail turned right and continued parallel to the river， as it would for the next 150 miles. That’s also where the Katy connects with Lewis and Clark’s route.

If you aren’t riding or running the Katy， you’re chasing an entrepreneurial dream along it. B&Bs， breweries， cafes and wineries dot the full length of the trail. As do some surprises： Drew Lemberger， an Army veteran who owns the Mount Nebo Inn next to Meriwether， has worked as a river guide， fishing guide， boat-maker and sommelier. I took a break from my ride to join one of his Missouri River tours. Being on the water （in a boat the captain built himself） provided an intimacy with the river that carried Lewis and Clark that I would have missed on the trail. Something of an ornithologist， too， Lemberger pointed out pelicans， geese and vultures. He nosed us toward a tree holding a nest. A bald eagle soared above， circled， then came in for a landing. Lemberger turned the boat back toward Rocheport， and as golden cliff faces peeled past， offered up some wisdom from a life spent on the Big Muddy10： “Never hang your fishing clothes next to your tuxedo11.”

The next day， our final morning， we stirred to life12 before dawn. We planned to cover 110 miles， so we couldn’t dawdle. The streets lay empty， the sun barely a rumor. The state Capitol dome watched over us from behind as we rode across the river back to the trail. The clouds waved an ominous ombre of gray to blue to purple， an apparent real storm replacing the metaphorical one that followed me the first day.

But the threat proved to be illusory. Gaps of light grew in the darkness. Pink freckles peeked through the clouds. The sun climbed high， warming my back as I passed the woman with the giant smile.

橫贯密苏里州的凯蒂步道长约240英里，建在一条旧铁道上，一位花甲之年的女士正在这条小道上踏车而行。我计划用4天骑完全程，就在第4天早晨我向东行进之际，与西行的她擦肩而过。她戴着自行车头盔，头盔下露出麦秸色的头发，其中掺杂了几缕银丝。她的眼角皱纹绽开，证明她这辈子是个笑口常开的人。

心生些许嫉妒，我禁不住想：当天发生了什么，过去几十年里发生了什么，让她的笑颜如此灿烂？她有何秘诀？我捏下车闸一把停住，想掉头追上她问个究竟。然而我任凭她远去，宁可把她的回答留给想象。

那天是周二。上周六，我就和三个骑友到达了位于密苏里克林顿的凯蒂步道最西端，当时我心事重重。

同行的一名骑友从事农业工作，启程后，但凡我们越过的田野，他都能娓娓道来。他说：这是大豆，这也是大豆，这——嘿，快看！——还是大豆。没有翻山越岭，没有峰回路转，风平林静，一路如常。历经数月的烦乱，我觉得这种单调颇给人慰藉。

途经一片田野深处，我们停下补充水分。偶遇两个来自科罗拉多的男人也在这里歇脚，几个人便隔着社交距离聊了起来。我们告诉他俩，我们几个家住圣查尔斯附近，正往那儿骑，那是个历史悠久的县城，就在圣路易斯市外，因是刘易斯与克拉克西部远征的起点而闻名。聊罢，我们再次跨上了车。只听见两人中的一个说：“一路顺风！”接着又轻松地补了句：“咱们再也见不着了！”这是在打趣他们的速度（慢），跟不上我们（没那么慢）。

休整后我踩起车更有劲了。平日里通常都是我挑起话题，我会让人说说印在衬衫上的那个城市或是帽子上的那个球队。在凯蒂步道上，我成了轮番发问的对象。那两个科罗拉多人开了头，之后连续四天都是别人对我发问。

“你老家在哪儿？”

“你要骑多远？”

“你那短裤紧得吓人——干吗穿这么紧的裤子出门？”

这些闲言碎语让我背负的焦虑裂开了一条小缝，在身后一点点洒下。直到走出孤独，我才意识到自己早已陷入孤独。旋即转念，风暴中我不再渴望避风港，而想像个傻子一样跑进雨里，高仰着头，喝着瓢泼的雨水。我迫不及待要与下一站碰面的陌生人唠上几句了。

凯蒂步道是观光客的必经之路。南北战争落幕后近一个世纪里，无数列车在密苏里—堪萨斯—得克萨斯州际铁路公司（昵称MKT或Katy“凯蒂”）运营的铁路上隆隆驶过。20世纪70年代铁道败落失修。1987年，密苏里州要兴建凯蒂步道州立公园，便接管了这条走廊。作为此类改造工程的先行者，凯蒂步道至今仍是美国最长的铁路改建自行车道。

凯蒂步道平坦宽阔，吸引着喜爱短途郊游的家庭和意欲长途跋涉的耐力运动员。（我处于两者之间，跃跃欲试。）春、夏、秋三季，远足、跑步和骑行者会在这条砾石小径上同行;到了冬季，越野滑雪者，甚至雪橇手，也会加入进来。每隔9到10英里就有一个步道起点，由历史悠久的火车站改建而来，因此可以很方便地驱车在公园任何一处停靠，来一场短途往返骑行。单程骑手可以租用班车接送（我们就用了这一服务），或者带着自行车搭乘全国铁路客运公司在锡代利亚市和赫曼两市之间穿梭的列车。

第二天午饭过后，我们在布恩维尔骑过高桥，跨越密苏里河。步道右拐后与河流并行，这段里程延绵150英里。那里也是凯蒂步道和刘易斯与克拉克远征路线相接的地方。

如果不是在凯蒂步道上骑行或跑步，那就是在沿途追逐创业梦。民宿、啤酒厂、咖啡馆和葡萄酒庄遍布步道全线。这一路还有些意外发现：德鲁·伦伯格尔是一名陆军退伍老兵，经营着自己的尼波山旅馆（就在梅里韦瑟咖啡厅隔壁），他还是游河向导、钓鱼教练、造船匠和品酒师。我中断骑行，参加了一趟伦伯格尔导览的密苏里河船旅。（乘坐船长自己建造的小船）在水上徜徉，让我与这条曾承载刘易斯和克拉克的河流亲密起来，那是若只在步道骑行便会错过的一种亲密感。伦伯格尔指给我们看鹈鹕、鹅和秃鹫，颇有几分鸟类学家的模样。他小心翼翼地带我们驶近一棵筑有鸟巢的树。只见一只白头雕翩翩腾空、盘旋，然后缓缓着陆。伦伯格尔调转船头，向罗什波特驶去，掠过一片片金黄的崖壁，作为一辈子在“大泥河”上生活的人，他蹦出了一句人生箴言：“千万不要把钓鱼服放在晚礼服旁边。”

次日，也就是骑行之旅最后一天的清晨，天没亮我们就出发了。我们打算骑110英里，所以不能磨蹭。街上空无一人，太阳几未现身。我们越过密苏里河重回步道，密苏里州议会大厦高高的穹顶被我们甩在身后。云团卷舒间不断变换着色彩，从灰到蓝再紫，感觉有点儿不妙，显然正酝酿一场真正的风暴，要取代第一天尾随我的那一场隐喻的风暴。

但结果表明，这种恫吓不过是个错觉。黑暗中透出道道亮光。粉红的光斑映出云层。艳阳高照，暖我脊背，正是那一刻，我與那位笑容灿烂的女士擦肩而过。

（译者为“《英语世界》杯”翻译大赛获奖者）