Trifter

Our cycling adventure continued west from St. Louis towards the Great Rocky Mountains.   By the time we left the Gateway City we had logged about 300 miles in 5 days.  We had slightly more the 2,000 miles to go to reach the California coast.  In the next 23 days we’d meet more of America than we would have thought possible. 

There were numerous people in Missouri who helped us out with a place to sleep or a hot meal or a cold drink to drive away the thirst that seemed unquenchable in the Midwest heat and humidity.  It took us three more days to get across the “show me state.”  By the time we reached Kansas City on the far western edge of the state we were sufficiently in shape that we were able to crank out 70-80 miles per day.  For “real” bikers 70-80 miles is nothing but for four novices who slept on park benches and drank a lot of beer it wasn’t bad. 

Photo courtesy of www.flickr.com

Kansas was the next state to be conquered by the four modern day Magellans on two wheels.   We expected Kansas to be flat and the pedaling easy.  We assumed it would be a walk in the park compared to the Rocky Mountains further west.  We were pitifully wrong about Kansas but also delightfully surprised.  First of all it wasn’t flat in the sense we expected it to be.  Of course there were no mountains in our way but the topography was not nearly as flat as we expected.  There were plenty of long rolling hills that might have seemed flat to a person travelling in a car but were quite noticeable to people bicycling and expecting nothing but miles and miles of pancake flat farmland.  Worse than the lay of the land, though, was the unceasing headwind.   More than any hardship we experienced on the ride, the constant Kansas head wind was the most difficult physical aspect of our journey.  It was ever-present.  It could not be avoided.  Hills and mountains would have been better.  At least after getting to the top you could cruise down the other side but the relentless wind in our face, sucked our energy and enthusiasm. 

As bad as the wind was the people of Kansas more than made up for it.  The hospitality of Kansans would be foreign to many people.  I mean I consider myself friendly but the length people in Kansas went to be hospitable exceeded anything in my experience. 

Our first day in Kansas ended at a laundromat in Osage City.  We hadn’t showered in few days so we figured clean clothes might make us a little less noticeable to the buzzards that had started to gather around us in recent days.      

I don’t know how it became public knowledge that four bikers were at the local Laundromat but somehow the word spread and we actually had several townspeople stop in just to chat.  One guy happened to be the manager of the local IGA store.  Even though it was well passed closing he opened the store for us and offered us some deep discounts.   We spent that night in the Laundromat.  The owner came the next morning unaware that we had spent the night in his facility but not the least bit upset.  After weathering something like a tornado in a volunteer fire department in McPherson we ended our fifth consecutive unshowered day in Hoisington.  We craved some familiar food that required no effort on our part so we ate at a Pizza Hut.  We were extremely fortunate to be waited on by a young lady named Brenda who was about our age.  It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to realize that we were in dire need of some basic hygienic care so she invited all four of us to her parent’s house where we’d have the run of their remodeled basement, complete with its own shower.  Now I don’t mean to get too descriptive but I’m guessing that most people don’t have many fond recollections of using the bathroom.  But I remember the bathroom in Brenda’s house in Hoisington, Kansas.  To be re-introduced to modern facilities and hot, running water after even a short 5 day stint of going without was something worth remembering.  The next morning Brenda’s mom made us a pancake breakfast and we lingered over that far longer than we should have.  After a night of such pampering, getting back on a bicycle just had to be put off a little longer.  By the time we had reached Hoisington we were a rag tag outfit to say the least.  My tail end was so sore from the 8-10 hours of sitting on the narrow bike seat that I literally duck taped a pillow to my seat.  The other guys were equally uncomfortable and that night at Brenda’s parents’ house gave us just enough re-fueling for the days ahead. 

Our last night in Kansas was spent in Dighton where once again we were treated like royalty.  Unlike many more efficient riders who tended to get up early to beat the heat we always started off our days in the late morning.  As a result we were always finishing our days in the late afternoon or even at night on occasion.  We rolled into Dighton in the late afternoon of a particularly hot day.  Just as we entered the city we were approached by a young man named Tom.  He told us that a lot of bikers ride through Dighton, doing the same thing we were doing, biking across all or part of the country.  He said he always thought to himself that he should help some of those folks out.  “Well,” he said “I decided I’m going to help you guys out.”  With that he gave us his address and told us he’d meet us at his house.  Dighton is a pretty small town and his house was easy to find.  Tom kept his promise and helped us out with burgers and drinks and comfortable accommodations followed by breakfast the next morning.   

It was about a day’s ride from Dighton to the Colorado state line.  I was certainly looking forward to seeing and experiencing the Rocky Mountains again but I couldn’t help but feel sorry that everyone in America couldn’t experience the hospitality of Kansas like my friends and I had.  It wasn’t just that these people did nice things for us that astonished us but how truly good natured so many of them seemed.  And it wasn’t just those that gave us a place to stay.  All across the state, in restaurants and stores and out on the roads the people of Kansas really went out of their way to welcome us.  It’s a shame that hundreds if not thousands of planes criss-cross this great country every day.  Most of them pass right over the quilted countryside of Kansas for glitzier destinations and that’s a shame because a lot of what is right and good about America can be found by spending a little time in Kansas.