Mammoth Cave National Park, KY to Bowling Green, Kentucky — 32.7 mi, 1,342 ft
I woke up and gleefully announced my sleep score of 79 to the other campers. What changed, Ruth? you might be asking. Didn’t you have horrendous sleep for the past two weeks? How did your sleep score triple in a single day? The answer: sleeping in the car. I highly suggest you try it sometime.
In all seriousness, somehow sleeping upright was just what I needed to successfully sleep through the night without waking myself up in a coughing fit. I felt good enough that I was ready to tackle the day’s bike ride, all 33 miles of it. But first, we decided to do a self-guided tour of Mammoth Cave, totally not because we didn’t plan ahead enough to book a guided tour.
The cave was cool (literally) and had surprisingly more historical relevance than I would’ve expected. It contains minerals like saltpetre that are essential for gunpowder formation, and enslaved people were forced to mine it in the 1800s.
We waited in a line for 5 minutes to see some northern & southern cave fish, got to the front of the line, realized there were no fish, then left wondering about the human psychology of queues.
We left the cave, spent an absurdly long time getting ready to leave (Greta ate a whole sandwich), then finally got biking to our one and only rest stop. Although I was having difficulty breathing on the uphills, Greta and Ishaq were kind enough to bike with me for the 15 short miles.
We made it to the vast expanse of the rest stop parking lot, found the bikers ahead of us, located Charles, our driver for the day, then all stared at the looming logo above us: we made it to BUC-EES.
Yooo it’s Charles, remember me? From yesterday? The poor guy whose blog got hijacked? Well I’m back to dish out some sweet revenge and, more importantly, write about my favorite place in the entire world1 — the epitome of American consumerism — Buc-ees.
BUC-EE’S! BUC-EE’S! For the unenlightened, Buc-ee’s is a gas station chain known for its endless chain of gas station stalls, its huge convenience stores, and squeaky clean bathrooms. It’s Costco meets Disneyland meets gas station at the peak of the mountain that is modern Americana. They own world records for largest convenience store, longest car wash, most gas station stalls, etc. If the scale still isn’t setting in for you, let me add that it’s primarily a Texas chain. ‘Nuff said.
I’d been raving about Buc-ee’s to the team for like the past week, so everyone’s expectations were high. I was especially hyped for Ramona’s encounter with Buc-ee’s because she is very easily impressed by the US’ innovations in vice culture. S’mores, ice cream floats, scratch-off tickets, Camel Crushes. And… laundromats (“like they spin… and it’s so cool”)? Maybe she’s just easily impressed in general. I also secretly suspect word about the industrial revolution has not yet reached Latvia.
After locking up our bikes in a big bike pile, we go into the store, which is big enough to lose track of people very quickly. I use the wonderful restrooms, then pick up a triple meat sandwich (sausage + brisket + turkey). I devour the sandwich outside as everyone sits down at the spot with their Buc-ee’s purchases. I ask about everyone’s impressions. “Overstimulating,” “awesome,” and “MURICA” are common refrains.
Ishaq recaps his Buc-ee’s haul (“I went in and just went full consumer mode”) before I go in for a second time to buy a round of treats for myself. I wind up buying fresh glazed nuts, cherry maple jerky, assorted sours, peanut butter and caramel popcorn with cinnamon, and milk chocolate covered raisins 😋.
As the bikers get ready to leave, I go in for a *third* Buc-ee’s trip to buy some beer for our rest day chillaxing. (spoiler alert: they did not make it to the rest day). Ramona is in fact impressed by Buc-ee’s. So impressed she buys merch on the spot.
Ruth’s back! (wooo the crowd goes wild)
I’m feeling extremely stuffed from my brisket sandwich, but I gather myself and hop on my bike. Ishaq is feeling lazy and joins Charles in the car, but Greta’s vow to stay with me throughout the day doesn’t waver. She plays my 2000s hits playlist, “dancing in my room,” and we jam along for the next 17 miles. Somewhere along the way, Ramona joins us, and now all three of us are jamming. Per usual, flash rain about 3 miles out from our final destination attempts to derail us. We bike through the downpour and come out the other side completely soaked and smiling wildly – mostly Greta, who “loves this type of weather.” We play tag with the rain for a bit, see a ground rainbow, then finally make it to what I can only describe as the best Airbnb to ever exist.
We enter the glorious estate and lay claims to bedrooms and showers. Ramona and I struggle to work the record player, then realize Charles and Ishaq tried the same thing half an hour earlier with no success.
After Charles and Ishaq return from grocery shopping, we start making dinner. Music is blasting (from a speaker😔) and spirits are high. The sun is setting, the sky is beautiful, and the fireflies come out.
We eat mac and cheese, turkey bacon, salad, watermelon, and banana/olive oil brownies, and stay up all night watching 21 Jump Street, playing card games, and just talking. It’s ok, we have a rest day tomorrow.
1 I actually wrote a full essay praising Buc-ee’s my junior spring.
MIT Spokes 2026 