The Awkward Pose

September 26, 2016 – Sun, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 95

Miles to Date: 17,052

States to Date: 45

Cycle touring doesn’t get any better – even with twenty miles on the Interstate!

Google mapped me 116 miles to Denver – too much for one day. But my experienced warmshowers host in Limon mentioned that it’s not only legal to ride the Interstate shoulder from Limon to Agate, but an easy chore along vast prairie with evergreen storm breaks that leads to Colorado 40. Her guidance shed twenty miles from my route. With ideal temperature and wind, pedaling all the way to Denver was easy.

The ten-mile stretch on Highway 36 between Bennett and Watkins is a gentle roll into Denver’s valley; a breathtaking expanse of glowing grassland set against distant purple mountains.

Denver is one of the easiest large cities to navigate on a bike. The Highline Trail is a 73-mile near continuous loop – the cyclist’s equivalent of a Beltway. It took me from Aurora, east and a bit north of the city, all the way around to the southeast sector of Denver proper.

I arrived at my sister’s for a two-day respite in time to watch the first Presidential debate and subsequent spin. The people I meet in real life are so much nicer than the talking heads on television.

September 25, 2016 – Sun, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 79

Miles to Date: 16,957

States to Date: 45

First came 36 gorgeous miles along US 24 West, out of sight and mind of the Interstate. Then, 24 merged with I-70 and the pavement ended. I pounded 31 miles of gravel.

My head bobbled long after I got to Limon. Question is, after a solid sleep will I be able to overcome the human propensity to dwell on the negative, or will I be able to retrieve the sweet meditation of those first gentle miles?

September 24, 2016 – Sun, 75 degrees

Miles Today: 70

Miles to Date: 16,878

States to Date: 45

Whoa, guy. Haven’t I already been in Colorado? Don’t have I only three states left? Shouldn’t I start skedaddling home?

Although I plan to cycle in all 48 contiguous states, my agenda is more complex. There are people and places I want to see that just can’t get covered in one pass. So, I am returning to Colorado with the objective of visiting my sister and brother in Denver, and then my nephew in Pueblo. From there, I plan to tour the juicy parts of New Mexico I missed in round one – Taos, Santa Fe, and Albuquerque. I hope to spin across the plains one last time to visit Levelland, Texas, my home from VISTA days. In about a thousand miles I will resume counting states when I enter Oklahoma.

Not all who wander are lost; I have become an expert wanderer.

September 23, 2016 – Sun, 85 degrees

Miles Today: 66

Miles to Date: 16,808

States to Date: 45

I love the Plains. They teach you not to take anything for granted. When you think the world is flat, it gets flatter. When you think the world is windy, it gets windier. Even when the wind is with you, there is so much of it that you have to ride full grip. You sail with the gust and then, the gust disappears and you wobble.

In theory, I had an easy day. Southerly crosswinds that often allowed me to tack to advantage. I happened by Cobblestone Ranch, which former state archeologist Don Rowlinson has taken on as a personal project. He gave me a great tour and told stores of the English immigrants who raised sheep in this area. We could have talked into the afternoon except that I had miles to go to Hoxie for lunch. I found JD’s, the local hangout, packed for Friday lunch: salad bar and potato bar with chili and all sorts of extras, but not much conversation. People don’t talk with strangers when a place is buzzing.

Thirty-five miles to Colby on a full belly seemed a fine way to pass the afternoon. The forecast called for a cold front with rain overnight, but there was no sign of it in the cloudless sky. Still, the wind knew something was brewing. Despite an adequate shoulder and good pavement, I fought to keep Tom steady against the tailwinds of the grain trucks that passed in my direction, their comrades head blasts when they roared east, and the gusts topping thirty miles an hour that hit me from the south, or southeast, or southwest, or whatever direction confused things the most.

At one point a string of trucks jangled me, so I stopped for a break. I stilled myself. Back in the saddle I got better at gauging my weight against the wind. Three miles outside of town the highway dipped through a gully where the gale was so strong I leaned Tom at least thirty degrees into the blast. The kind of day I am so glad I ride a Surly.

I arrived in town shortly after four and took a room at the first basic motel I passed. I had made good time, but I was wiped. I just wanted to be out of the wind.

September 22, 2016 – Sun, 95 degrees

Miles Today: 83

Miles to Date: 16,742

States to Date: 45

There is a moment in the morning when the sun, flat across the top of the grass, rises a notch and floods the landscape with brilliant light.

This area is known as Post Rock. Early settlers mined limestone, broke it across the weak shear plane, then drilled a line of holes through the slab and broke it into fence posts. There are few trees here today, but there were none when the homesteaders arrived.

Before harvest the sunflowers are too heavy to trace the sun. They bow, seed-laden, to the east.

Every Kansas town touts its athletic prowess. I have not seen comparable academic pride.

Acadians settled Damar, KS and built St. Joseph’s Church, which towers above the prairie. The text of the prayer, ‘Hail Mary’ is on a series of small signs along the highway before you enter town.

Western Hills Motel in Hill City is one of the last, great roadside motels. To my reckoning, only three guys in pick-ups and one cyclist stayed here on this Thursday night. At $40 a room, the place may not be long for a world where chains rule. However, Las Canteras Mexican Grill down US 24 was packed, and for good reason. Best carnitas I’ve ever tasted.

September 21, 2016 – Cloudy, 90 degrees

Miles Today: 56

Miles to Date: 16,659

States to Date: 45

I am like an eight-year-old. I ride my bike all day and sleep like a baby all night. After ten solid hours in the sack I woke to full daylight. My home-schooling hosts were still snoozing when I got on the road at 8:30 a.m. I figured, no problem starting late on a short riding day. But the wind had picked up; its angle less benign, and there was no coffee or breakfast to be found in Bennington.

I pedaled for 32 miles along Highway 18 weary, despite two snack breaks, until I reached Lincoln and discovered the Sunrise Cafe. Today’s special: meatloaf, creamed peas, baked potato, salad bar, roll and peach cobbler, plus coffee for $8.25. Excellent conversation with local customers and a snappy waitress came free of charge.

Real food in my belly and caffeine in my veins blunted the wind on my cheeks. I arrived at Lucas, Grassroots Arts Capital and one of Kansas’ 8 Wonders of Art, in plenty of time for a full tour of the Garden of Eden. I also got see, and use, the world’s most fantastic public toilet. Kansas proclaims ‘Wonders’ of all kinds, and Lucas is plenty neat, but grassroots art can’t stop the place from hemorrhaging a slow death. Having a gorgeous mosaic public bathroom is nifty, but when the only grocery in town is shuttered, that’s a real problem for a town 25 miles from anywhere.

There are no motels in Lucas. I had called a listing for Thacker’s Cottages looking for a place to stay. Mr. Thacker explained that he rents cottages by the week or month. Then he offered, ‘How much do you usually pay?’ I said “$50.” He replied, ‘Stop by, we’ll fix you up.”

Three blocks west of the public toilet, Mr. Thacker owns a couple of houses on the border of town. His dog barked before I even pressed the bell. He took me to a house next door. The place sleeps five, has a full kitchen and dining table big enough for Thanksgiving. It was clean; all the beds fitted; the AC already on. He’d stocked the fridge with water and Gatorade. “Don’t drink the tap water; it’s got too much lime.”

He told me his litany of seven back surgeries, how he had to give up horseback riding; how he’d swallowed a mosquito and got West Nile Virus, how he was luckier than the guy who lived in Mr. Thacker’s trailer around the corner for free. “When I was a fool teenager the jack slipped from a car I was under. My chest was crushed; I couldn’t even holler. He pulled the car off me; must have been the adrenaline let him do it. He saved my life. Now that’s he’s feeble, I owe him.”

After a good amount of visiting, I surmised that Mr. Thacker wasn’t actually going to charge me to be his neighbor for the night. So I suggested we settle up and gave him $50 in cash. Half an hour later, I got a knock on the door. He brought me a taco salad and saltines for dinner.

September 20, 2016 – Sun, 95 degrees

Miles Today: 70

Miles to Date: 16,603

States to Date: 45

 Bicycle route challenges crop up in the oddest places. Google Maps showed me a great route from Manhattan to Abilene, but my hosts cautioned that it went through Fort Riley, where bicycles are not allowed. They helped me map another route, complicated by rivers and dirt roads and limited access highways. Kansas limits bicycle access more than any state I’ve visited; not just Interstates but certain US Highways as well.

Fourteen miles out I encountered a ‘Bicycles Prohibited’ sign. While I was checking alternatives on my phone, a guy in a pick-up hauling a boat stopped to check his hitch and offered me a ride past the restriction. Such is the luck of my journey.

Back in bicycle friendly territory, Old US 40 through Chapman to Abilene proved a great route. Navigating Abilene proper was less easy; there are railroad tracks everywhere and an oil tanker train decided to sit astride several for half an hour.

Eisenhower’s Presidential Library and Museum is misnamed. It’s a laborious, dark, text-dense labyrinth about World War II with a postscript about Mamie’s style and a few displays about 50’s prosperity. The museum doesn’t even contain a recreation of the Oval Office, which I’ve come to appreciate as a reflection of a President’s personality. One display, however, was super-cool: a model of how the Allies linked barges to offload trucks and supplies for the Normandy Invasion.

New rule of bicycle touring: never try to repair a flat at a McDonald’s. I finished my writing break with enough time to pedal 27 miles to Bennington only to find my front tire flat. Very odd, as front tires almost never go flat. I suspected a local prankster or the gravel road I used to skirt the oil train. Whatever the cause, my trauma attracted Abilenians like flies, all keen with advice and their own bicycle stories. I finally had to move Tom away from the golden arches to focus on the problem.

Eventually, flat fixed and wind coming up from my left flank; I sailed across Kansas Highway 18 to Bennington, through wide countryside and gentle swales. I reached my host’s home in time for a delicious dinner and libertarian discourse. Kansas is not just a red state. Utter the two words ‘federal government’ in sequence and some people thirst to draw blood.

September 19, 2016 – Sun, 95 degrees

Miles Today: 85

Miles to Date: 16,533

States to Date: 45

One word describes the challenge of crossing the plains – wind. Today the wind and I did a subtle dance as I moved west and it came out of the south. When the wind shifted a bit east or my route veered to the north, I tacked it to advantage. But if my route pivoted even a few degrees or the wind shifted to the west, it pressed against me. Either way, my cycling was easier than when I crossed North Dakota and encountered steady winds from the west for days on end. Let’s hope these breezes keep prevailing.

The Kansas State Capitol in Topeka is a gorgeous structure that underwent extensive restoration in 2009. They excavated the basement to expose giant granite foundations and put the museum exhibits in this grotto-like space. I thought it very effective. Then, you rise up to the ornate chambers and elaborate dome. The rough stone below and intricate ornament above create a wonderful counterpoint.

It was after noon when I started the long slog to Manhattan: forty miles before I got a real break in Wamego on a very hot day. When its 95 degrees out, the contents of my water bottles keep my hydrated but don’t refresh.

After cold PowerAde, the last fifteen miles were a breeze. I stayed up past midnight talking with a wonderful local couple that lives in an old hotel downtown turned to apartments: appropriately urban for a Kansas town called Manhattan.

September 18, 2016 – Sun, 80 degrees

Miles Today: 44

Miles to Date: 16,448

States to Date: 45

Summer Sunday – and the living is easy. I had forty-four beautiful, easy miles along the Kansas River Valley.

Kansas Speedway is a huge piece of environmental art. The painted seats are visible from State Ave for miles. There was a huge motorcycle rally planned there today, so I got up and around it before the noise got too great.

The only hill to speak of was University of Kansas campus – which sits on a precipice from all directions.

September 17, 2016 – Sun, 80 degrees

Miles Today: 28

Miles to Date: 16,404

States to Date: 45

Everything’s up to date in Kansas City

They gone about as fer as they can go

– Oscar Hammerstein

My first time ever in Kansas City: a striking, friendly place that’s really a collection of places. If Saint Louis is the last Eastern city in our country, Kansas City is the first Western metropolis. It doesn’t have a single core from which things sprawl. Rather, Kansas City includes multiple nodes of development strung together by wide boulevards and residential areas. I had a gorgeous day to explore the new place.

The city is famous for its fountains.

I like the stately 8-plax apartments with big porches that were built in the 1920’s.

Snazzy KU Medical Center sits right off State Line Road. Within a few blocks the grade descends to the Kansas River and I was in an entirely different place. Kansas City KS is Hispanic and poor. Further west thin men trembled outside of by-the-week motels and buxom women in tight skirts offered to sell what I’m not buying. Eventually State Avenue becomes just another strip of bog box stores and franchises.

My host is an ardent dog lover. We watched Benji, an awful, saccharine 70’s movie that turned funny when Craig’s dogs barked at the ones on the screen. Afterward we went to Quik Trip for dessert smoothies. We sat outside on a warm night under the full moon and watched people buy pop and fill up their pick-ups. Saturday night. Welcome to Kansas.