Kansas. Bring me the desolate, the plain, the nothing. And bring me speed. Working pretty hard on 8km/hour, I'm ready to take this to the next level. Although that 'll probably be wishful thinking taking into account the obstruction of more headwinds.
Moving away from the storm, clouds still scattered the sky and the temperature dropped a little, which is nice to be relieved from under the dogs-breath-air for just a little while. I got my first encounter with never-ending straight and flat roads. So far I like the change!
Rolling out of the Ozarks, Kansas strikes me as a different continent. It's like a mix between the north of France (acres, acres, acres and grain silo's) and Africa (prairies and dirt roads). In fact, if you 'd squeeze your eyes just a little, the scattered pumping Jacks look exactly like giraffes bending over to suck up a mud puddle. Kansas boring? Man I'm on safari!
But forget about the pumping Jacks, bring out the windmills, cause this, right here, is the place where wind is being made. From here out it scatters full-force over the rest of the globe. Sometimes you win, but most of the times you lose.
True, Kansas, there's nothing much here, no MacDonalds every 20 miles but that rather suits me. And then I'm such a cycling daydream from time to time, this area kinda suits me. Hardly any traffic, if it wasn't for the retired wild Mustangs that come from Wyoming and Montana to spend their last days on the Kansas plains, I'd probably do the 440 mile stretch with my eyes closed.
I like it. Not the tiny 75 people-population villages that radiate "Ku Klux Klan - come and practice with us" though (I kinda got in the middle of something there and it was a little creepy staying by myself in their decaying church with a lightning storm passing over for that extra sketchy touch). An old men in the village I asked for water and directions to the church, felt the need to lean and grip on my bike while talking to me, 6 inches from my face. I couldn't step back cause I had to hold on to my bike on the other side and I tried to jiggle him off but that only seemed to make him tighten his grip and lean in even more close. Man, what's wrong with you? You live here, in a parallel universe, by different social rules? Get out of my aura!
In Pittsburg, Kansas, I was having a dilemma over taking a rest day in town or not. It's been over two weeks now since I wasn't glued to the saddle for a day. But then again the forecast said wind from the east-southeast, which for me going west would mean as much as a wannabe-tailwind and in Kansas, believe me, you take it.
In these early Kansas days, I took a bath (Me! a bath, a real one, as in a tub, that's been over 5 years), I pet a 2 day old Jack-Russel puppy (which looks like a very cute sandy potato), I spot a coyote (thumbs up for Safari-Fien), I got flicked in the gravel-shoulder, more than once, by 30-miles-an-hour-crosswinds (no more friendly waves at oncoming traffic, taking one hand off the steer 'd increase the risk of me becoming airborne by 70% and besides, all my emotions were squeezed in a big frown on my forehead that quite clearly emit "LEAVE ME ALONE") and I crashed Taylor's high school graduation party and spend the night at Judy's, one of the lovely guests (after I swooped my finger through the chocolate fountain, of course).
And then, finally, I had my rest day in just the perfect spot: Newtons bike shop. They have a bunk-bed hostel for weary touring cyclists just like me and you can work on your bike. In the same way pets look like their owners, I gave my baby a bath and scrubbed off the dirt of the rough-past weeks. Me clean. My bike clean. And this is where I ganged up with Lauren, Zach and Jacob for the oncoming 6 days.
So I realized, touring on a bike, the actual cycling, it's not a stroll in the park. It's more close to a struggle. It's hard. All you are and have, you put in the hands of the elements and all they seem to say is 'go figure'. But it's the people you meet, the random encounters and all the un-but-yet-to-known that makes it interesting, amazing and more than worthwhile. In a way that no hill can take your breath away.
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