Rolling/Running out of Hills

We can use a break. My knees, my gears and I, we are all in for a break. Kansas, flat, desolate land of nothing and nowhere, come to me. I heard so much negative-Nancy stuff about this state and was forewarned, multiple times, to find a way, ANY way, around it (by plain, train or car) up till the point it got almost epic for me to go there, to check it out for myself. Cycling. To enhance the proximity of misery taking it in. But first I had to make my way out of why-don't-you-go-straight-up-and-then-straight-down Missouri. Having a flat due to not change my front wheel rim tape back in Belgium did not help. Having to fix it in 90 degree weather either. But I liked it, Missouri and all its Ozark mountains. It made me feel very much alive, surrendered to the elements (wind, heath, hills and quarries that cluttered up my eyes). It commands my respect. Again, it hit me straight in the face how much I love being outdoors. You will find the unexpected behind every corner. One time I made my way up a hill, rather, let's say, vocally, I mean, there's nobody out there so I just moan away, while nearly at the top, out of nowhere I hear a voice coming out of the woods. Nearly frisked of my bike there. A young man, camouflage costume, rifle slung casual over his right shoulder, calls at me with a smirk "So you like riding that hill hu!". Man, I was down faster than are good friend Lance on EPO. In the same category, I got chatted up by Stinky Scott while camping out at a rural towns'courthouse lawn. A local kid on a bike so I guess he decided we were ought to be soul mates (by which I mean because of similar modes of transportation and not body odor).

Later on I got grabbed by a T-storm again. It wasn't cold so I decided no need for shelter, let's just push these seven miles to the next town. I'm not made out of sugar so I won't dissolve in the rain, right? Three miles after I stepped out the little grocery store on the corner, I could clearly hear the medley-mix of prayers, warnings and something of execration of the people that hung-out at the shop, I knew I was in trouble. It was like standing under the Niagara Falls. Rain poured out. I was soaked. Nowhere to shelter. I was still going up and down hills till the point I had to get of my bike and walk down, cause I couldn't see a damn thing with the water spit bathing up my face and then walk up cause a flood came down the hill. One moment I stopped all together cause I had to laugh so badly at myself. Great plan Fien. Seriously. You like this? By now thunder followed a split second after bolts of lightning. How would it feel to get hit by lightning? Might not wanna hang out and wait till it happens. Finally behind a bend there was a house. I dropped all the cautiousness I gathered to not trespass on people's property and ran up the driveway to shelter under its front doors' porch. I rang the doorbell as to inform the owners I was not about to burglar into their home but nobody answered. Ten minutes or so later, a truck pulled up and Rex got out. That's how I ended up spending the night at his place, but not before his lovely mom that lives across the street fed me like she was going to eat me later and I got shown all the cattle and beagles Rex owns in the area around his house. I was amazed. We checked on a cow that was about to have a calf and two days later I got its picture having its first meal. Let's name this one after me, right?
It's unreal. Here am I, this one moment, hitting rock bottom in a thunderstorm and the next I'm cruising around in somebody's truck and get smitten over by his 2-years old grandson calling "Bye pretty lady!!" after me.
It is with these words I left Missouri and checked in on Kansas.
May the longest week of my life begin.