The first stretch of the trip today was 38 miles with nothing; no services, houses or cars. Just miles and miles of prairie. It was actually extremely beautiful and pleasant. There were no unexpected climbs, no turns, no nothing. There was only a steady pace and in my case, the steady flow of music from the ipod into my brain. It was serene. For the last 20 miles, I cycled with Beth and Duncan, which was hilarious. We made games out of the rather monotonous ride. One such was a game where one cyclist would close their eyes and start in the center of the road while another tried to verbally steer them. The cyclist would keep their eyes closed and count until they became too afraid or drifted off the road. I got to 14 and Duncan has the record of 15 seconds.
Beth looks surprisingly exactly like Erin who I'd previous biked with. She's also 21, has one older brother (25) and a younger sister (16). She goes to school in Ohio at Bowling Green and studies education. She's a funny gal and appreciates Duncan and I's zany sense of humor. Imprinted in my brain matter as a highlight today was the simple sentence, "You're funny, Ralph".
Success.
Eventually, just as I began experiencing withdrawal symptoms fron my lack of soda, we pedaled into Newton, KS (pop. 18,000). I started looking for the nearest McDonald's to use my gift card graciously given to me by my Aunt Dede on "Christmas in Chester". So I went there and as I've developed a habit of doing, cleaned out the soda fountain. From McDonald's, I went to the Harvey County Historical Museum.
Originally built in 1905 to be a library, the building was one of the many that Andrew Carnegie's vast amount of wealth went toward. The man had a profound respect for education and if you didn't know, made all his cash from the steel industry in Pittsburgh, PA. It's strange to see his influence even all the way out here in the Midwest.
Anyway, the museum was awesome and had some interesting stuff on residents from the county during WWI. The highlight of this section was a ton of letters from two hometown lovers; Glenn and Fatty... yeah, her name was Fatty. I even double-checked with the museum curator to ensure that was her name. Jane Jones giggled and nodded. Shortly after, Jane dissapeared while I continued learning things. She reappeared shortly after with a small container of ice cream for me. I was beside myself with happiness. I walked through the rest of the exhibit with my treat.
Before I left, I decided to reapply some chafe cream to my constantly aching butt cheeks (TMI?). As I walked back to my bike, I realized to my absolute horror that I had forgotten the most important piece of gear at the last camp. Luckily, there was a bike shop down the street selling some similar stuff called chamois butter that actually turned out to be even butter than my old cream. Haha get it? HA! I'm hilarious.
So I got back out on the road and headed the remaining 30 miles to Buehler. Midway in the town of Hesston, I stopped at a gas station to see if I could fill my water container with ice. Before I went in, I met a cheery man by the name of Larry, equipped with silver hair and mustache. He was really interested in my trip and his sprightly attitude rubbed off on me. I got my ice and got ready for the last 20 miles to Buehler.
6 miles in, I started to get the shakes. I needed some food but didn't want to eat my last two Clif bars so decided to finish off my jar of peanut butter. Finding a thin tree that provided little shade, I parked my bike a few inches off the road, and walked down the slanted dirt to sit on the 3 ft. tall grass. As I finished the peanut butter, I started to get awfully sleepy. I fell asleep sprawled out, hidden in the grass, almost appearing deceased.
As my thoughts gradually become more and more absurd and I began losing consciousness, I heard a faint voice.
"Hey! Buddy! Are you alright?!"
I looked up to a truck above me on the road, engine still running with its driver walking toward me. I jolted upward, embarrassed that I'd caused this much panic in someone. "Oh! I'm fine! I'm fine! Just taking a little nap! Sorry about scaring ya!"
He told me it was no problem and drove off. I laid back down and closed my eyes. 4 minutes later, another car stopped and called out to me to make sure I was okay, then offered ice cold water, which I denied. I laid down again. 2 minutes later, yeah, another worried friend. This one was a cyclist named Mike heading East. Covered head to toe in clothing, he told me the West would be amazing. At this point of seeing all the worried peoples, I knew I wouldn't be sleeping. People are awesome.
With a renewed sense of energy, I struggled into the powerful Kansas headwinds. I would eventually make it into the town of Buerhle, KS (pop. 1500). It was the perfect time to be there because there was a giant festival in the park called "Spark in the Park". Free hamburgers, ice cream, corn, and hot dogs. There were fireworks, a car that you could pay money to take swings at with a sledgehammer, AND a little scene where some people would set a ton of explosions underneath an anvil and blow it skyhigh into the air. The explosion rocked the entire park and thumped into your chest.
I've eaten myself silly. I am lethargic.
Oh, so this will probably be my last evening with the MS crew. In an awesome case of chance, one of my best friends from Pittsburgh, whom I haven't seen since December, is coming within 50 miles of me on his way to Colorado. I'm going to trek off-route north and meet up with him. We haven't planned anything but I've already decided that if the event arises to trek with him inside the car, then fuck it, I'm game.
The cows here have much larger pastures then I've seen in any other state or farm. At least they get to live life gleefully ignorant within larger barbwire fences before being slaughtered.
The influx of settlers into the West negated the idea of the "open frontier" because of quarrels over property. The invention of barbwire in 1874 created a solid way to isolate each person from the other.
Entering Newton with Beth leading the way.
The Harvey County Historical Museum
Viewpoint from my tent nestled amongst the others. In the distance was the location of the food and absolutely horrid local talent. I'm sorry, some of the singing made me cringe.
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