Amtrak–Katy Trail Ride
Remembering a Rolling Missouri Adventure
A few years back, I decided that springtime in Missouri was calling my name—and that the best way to answer was with a bicycle, a train ticket, and just enough optimism to believe the weather forecast might be wrong. Thus began my Amtrak–Katy Trail Ride, an adventure that combined passenger trains, crushed limestone trails, historic towns, good food, minor mechanical drama, and a healthy amount of smiling at my own good fortune.
This ride was later written up by Adventure Cycling, which made it feel slightly more official than it probably deserved—but I’ll take it.
The Big Picture
Route: Kansas City to Jefferson City, MO… then back again
Trail: One hundred miles of the Katy Trail along the Missouri River
Riding Days: Two days of roughly fifty miles each
Overnights: A charming bed & breakfast and a historic downtown hotel
Bonus Points: Amtrak’s walk-on bicycle service
Weather: Occasional rain (because of course)
Day One: Trains, Trails, and Tire Trouble
The journey began at the grand and familiar Union Station in Kansas City, a place that somehow makes even a solo cyclist feel like they’re embarking on a Very Important Expedition. Armed with coffee, panniers, and a healthy appreciation for modern conveniences, I rolled my bike toward the Amtrak platform.
This trip featured Amtrak’s roll-on bicycle service, which deserves a standing ovation. A rail worker flagged me toward my car, I pushed my bike directly onto the train, secured it in its designated space, and—this was the real luxury—sat right next to it.
Previously, traveling with a bike meant stuffing it into a cardboard bike box, watching it disappear into a baggage car, and later reassembling it on a platform while pretending not to panic about missing parts. Compared to that? This felt like first-class travel for both me and my bike.
I was so impressed that I immediately pulled out my iPhone and sent Amtrak a message expressing my appreciation. Not all heroes wear capes—some design bike-friendly train policies.
The ride to Jefferson City was smooth and relaxing. I watched the Missouri countryside roll by while silently negotiating with the weather gods, hoping the forecasted rain would at least wait until I was good and tired.
As we passed through Sedalia, I noticed the depot and made a mental note: In two days, if all goes well, I’ll be back here boarding this same train. Adventure always feels better when you have a plan—and a return ticket.
We arrived in Jefferson City around noon. The depot sits just a few blocks from the State Capitol, which made the disembarkation feel appropriately official. Amtrak prefers a speedy unload, so as the train rolled in, I sprang into action. A helpful rail worker assisted me down the stairs with the bike, and just like that, I was officially rolling.
It was raining lightly—but I was prepared. Or at least dressed like someone who thought they were prepared.
I pedaled past the Capitol, following my route toward the Katy Trail.
The Katy Trail delivers beauty in abundance. I was heading toward Rocheport, my stop for the night, but progress was… leisurely. Not because of the trail surface—it was excellent—but because every few minutes demanded another photo. Trees, river views, old rail remnants—it all added up to a comfortable 12 mph pace and zero regrets.
Eventually, I rolled into Cooper’s Landing,
which offers fantastic views and exceptional food. It’s the kind of place that convinces you stopping was not optional but morally required.
Back on the trail and feeling good, I continued toward Rocheport—until my rear tire decided to introduce itself to the story.
Yes. The rear tire.
It’s always the rear tire.
With about eight miles left in the day, I noticed it slowly losing air. Rather than stopping immediately, I opted for a strategy best described as “optimistic denial”: stopping every couple of miles to add air and promising myself I’d deal with it properly once I arrived.
Miraculously, this worked.
I found my lodging in Rocheport
without issue and was thrilled to discover a dedicated bike repair shed. The tube was patched, dinner was consumed, and I enjoyed a well-earned night of sleep.
Day Two: Tunnels, Pie, and Persistent Rain
I woke early, energized and ready for another fifty-ish miles. Today’s destination was Sedalia, MO, where I had reservations at the Historic Bothwell Hotel downtown. Once again, rain was in the forecast—but hope springs eternal.
Leaving Rocheport, I rolled past one of the town’s highlights: a fantastic tunnel that practically demands a photograph. After fulfilling my photographic duties, I continued on.
The stretch from Rocheport to Boonville is especially delightful. Birds chirped, small animals scurried, and for a while—victory!—no rain fell. The trail felt alive and peaceful all at once.
In Boonville, I stopped at a downtown café for breakfast before heading back onto the trail toward Pilot Grove—one of my favorite sections. The scenery is lovely, the trail is a bit hillier than usual, and it includes both an overpass and a tunnel, which always feels like a bonus.
Pilot Grove also features something critically important: excellent pie. I stopped at the trailhead, where a thoughtfully placed bicycle workstation allowed me to check tire pressure and make sure everything was still behaving.
(Then I went for the pie.)
The next stretch of trail grew quieter and more remote, perfect for reflection and photography. One of my favorite sights was an old train signal, standing as a reminder of the route’s railroad history.
Not long after passing it, the rain arrived—right on schedule. It followed me faithfully all the way into Sedalia, proving once again that forecasts should never be ignored.
Downtown Sedalia was just a short ride away, and soon I arrived at the Historic Bothwell Hotel. The building sits proudly in the old downtown district, surrounded by history—including another beautiful structure across the street that was undergoing renovation and absolutely required a photo.
The hotel staff welcomed both me and my bicycle. I was allowed to bring it into the historic lobby, and they stored it safely in the basement for the night.
The hotel itself was wonderful—comfortable, full of character, and exactly what tired cyclists dream about. I chose to dine at the hotel restaurant, which turned out to be an excellent decision. Warm food, dry clothes, and a sense of accomplishment are hard to beat.
Day Three: Coffee, Pastries, and the Ride Home
The next morning, I woke early and checked out. The staff retrieved my bike, and I rolled the few blocks to the Sedalia train station I’d spotted days earlier. With time to spare, I stopped for coffee and a pastry—because no good train ride should begin without one.
Back at the station, the train arrived right on time. A rail worker waved me toward the correct car, helped lift my bike onboard, and once again I secured it in its space. I took my seat beside it, leaned back, and enjoyed the ride back to Kansas City.
As the countryside rolled by, I reflected on the trip: trains that welcomed bikes, trails that followed rivers, towns full of character, and just enough rain and mechanical drama to make it a true adventure.
All in all, it was exactly the kind of journey that reminds you why mixing bicycles, trains, and a sense of humor is always a good idea.
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