Day 30, Kansas
August 14, 2010: From Rush Center to Great Bend. Miles pedaled: 37.
I left the Rush Center mini-park before dawn, and enjoyed the solitude of having the road to myself, and the beauty of the early morning. Most days I get to watch the sunrise, starting from a golden glow on the eastern horizon, straight ahead but just slightly to my left. Then a pin-prick of golden-white light that grows so fast that I can soon no longer bear to look at it. Then I spend the next hour with my head down and helmet canted low, so it's visor shades my eyes.
The official route leaves Highway 96 back at Rush Center, but I kept following 96 for 32 more miles to the city of Great Bend. I needed a few bike things, and knew of a good bike store there (thanks to the internet).
The store didn't open until 10 am, so I rode around town for miles, just to see what it was like.
I was at the bike store when the owner arrived; he invited me to bring my bike in, and park it against the wall.
I needed four spare inner tubes, and also a new tire pump that didn't destroy the valves. Such simple things when you live in a city, but out there in never-never land, such items are essential to one's very survival. Well, not really, but out there where I was having difficulty, it would have been a long time before I could have reached a store, via hitchhiking.
Yesterday's ordeal in the sun, with the tire repairs, had sapped my energy; so I stopped for the day at a cheap motel and spent much of the remainder of the day resting.
Miles pedaled today: 37. Trip mileage: 2,200 - more than half-way.
Day 31, Kansas
August 15, 2010: From Great Bend to Newton. Miles pedaled: 94.
I left Great Bend a bit later than normal, and pedaled the 10 miles to Ellingwood, slowly in headwinds. The sky was full of clouds so at least the day was nice and cool.
While there I stopped for refreshments, and found that although the town is pretty, the residents I encountered were generally unfriendly to strangers, same as in the previous town of Great Bend. Not hostile, but ranging from indifferent to a bit more so.
I suppose it is much the same in most any town or city of size, but the contrast hit me, to realize that people in the cities have lost some of their sense of humanity for each other.
While riding across the country, and meeting people in small, rural settings, I have witnessed hundreds of examples of people being considerate of me and each other. Dozens and dozens each day. For a while I thought it was just me. That somehow I have been able to bring out the best in people. But now back in the cites again, I have realized that it wasn't me at all. And what I have learned might apply to most any city person reading this. There's a better world outside your cities, in some key respects, although you might not see it. But I have been riding through it for weeks and weeks, and have witnessed it for myself.
After taking a break in Lyons city park, I got back on the road again, and the headwinds only intensified the further I pedaled, and in my rear-vision mirror I began to notice a big, black cloud forming behind me. Also, this blackness was slowly catching up with me. And I had the feeling that the blackness was trying to suck me into it, because of the increasing headwinds. And to add to this sensation, that I was going slightly uphill - for miles.
Now rain was falling a ways behind me, and the occasional bolt of lightning was flashing in the distance.
Finally a few drops of rain caught up with me, and the headwinds quit so at least I could pick up some speed.
I pulled in to a c-store on the outskirts of McPherson, and soaking wet I parked the bike out of the rain, and went inside. (And no, the clerk was not friendly. But at least she was tolerant of me sitting at a table inside, waiting for the rain to stop).
The rain lasted 2.5 hours, then I put on my parka and began to pedal SE along the "Old 81" but first I had to find this road, and that took awhile. Then I went through Moundridge and eventually to Newton.
At Newton I pedaled through town, and then a couple miles east on 1st street to the 81 interstate and a motel.
Day 32, Kansas
August 16, 2010: From Newton to Yates Center. Miles pedaled: 101.
I left Newton about 20 minutes before sunrise, and pedaled eleven miles east on 1st Street, in light headwinds, then 8 miles south on Butler, past Whitewater, to Hwy 196. This highway was busier than I would have liked, but it had a wide shoulder although lots of tire wires. Then came a three mile section of freeway to the busy city of El Dorado.
On the other side of town I stopped at a small out-of-the-way restaurant for breakfast. The cook looked like a hard-core biker, and seemed to be running the place. We got to talking abut motorcycles (his was parked outside the building) and he said a guy recently hit a deer and got "messed up pretty bad."
From there I followed the 54 to Eureka in strong headwinds, peddling an average of 9 mph. The whole rest of the day was like that, so I got a good workout. I even got a workout going down the only hill at 11 mph with the same amount of pedaling.
while at a c-store in Eureka, a guy pulled up in a most distinctive truck, that I called the "cutting edge" because he had welded a cross-cut saw to the roof. When you see something like that, you know you're likely to have an interesting conversation. And indeed that proved the case.
The guy called himself "Red" and I asked about his truck. "A conversation piece," he explained. "Take that gun. I found it with the stock burned off and rusted closed, so I welded it to the front of my truck, then at an auction a guy told me that it was worth $500 before I did the welding." Red showed me more features, like the variety of logging hooks welded to both sides of the vehicle, then explained that during Halloween he ties 50 cow skulls on them, then he takes the grand-kids out for trick or treats. They have a lot of fun, he said.
He also said he sees many cyclists passing through, from all sorts of different states and countries. He said he rescued a group of four from the Netherlands that he found holed up beneath a bridge "during a tornado." He took them to his home and fed them dinner, then later he received a card of thanks, which meant a lot to him.
The next stop was 16 miles further on, at a nice rest stop replete with a shaded picnic tables and restroom. Then more pedaling at 9 mph to the town of Yates Center where I called it a day.
The lady owner of a motel was extremely nice, and easy to talk to. She explained, without my asking, that most residents of this town were descended from a certain foreign country, and were not so fond of outsiders. She said that although she was descended from the same country, her linage didn't go back far enough, so she was still considered an outsider.
Day 33, Kansas
August 17, 2010: From Yates Center and back. Miles pedaled: 2.
I left the motel in Yates Center half an hour before dawn, in a light rain. the sky was so dark that I couldn't see it, or much else for that matter. But the further I pedaled, the more the rain increased. A mile out of town it was raining cats and dogs, and by then I had a feeling it might keep doing that all morning. So I turned around and pedaled back to the motel. I thought this might happen, so I had left the door closed but unlocked.
The rain continued throughout the day, so I stayed put.
Day 34, Kansas
August 18, 2010: From Yates Center to Pittsburg. Miles pedaled: 90.
I left Yates Center at dawn. The rain had quit, but the clouds were still hanging low, and the streets were wet. I took 75 south to Buffalo, then 39 to Chanute, where I stopped for a snack. Then on to Walnut via 50 and 146. Girard was next, and I had a mail-drop there at the P.O.: maps and a tire pump.
The pump was a little bit of Christmas, because it had a pressure gauge. And with that, I found out that I had been riding on under-inflated tires since the beginning of the trip. And with them properly pressurized, the bike seemed to roll a little better.
Then on down to Pittsburg via 7 and 126, and I rolled down to Broadway, then north 1.5 mi to a motel.
Day 35, Missouri
August 19, 2010: From Pittsburg to Springfield MO. Miles pedaled: 83
I backtracked the 1.5 miles on Broadway to the 126, and headed out of town (Pittsburg) on that. The morning sky was clear, so I knew the day would be a hot one.
In about 4 miles I reached the Missouri state line, and stopped for a photo.
From there the road lost its shoulder, and became narrower. In fact, the grasses had not been mowed next to the road, and due to the recent rains those grasses were 2 feet tall in places, and made the road seem much narrower, and closed in.
Also, the land became quite a bit more hilly.
I am meeting the nicest people on this trip. 21 miles later, while approaching the small town of Golden City, I saw a guy in an open Jeep slowing down; and as he passed by, I saw that he was holding a copy of my book "Trail Life" for me to see. He obviously knew who I was.
Curtis joined me for breakfast in a small café, and we had a good time talking about life in these parts. For example, I learned why the chicken crossed the road. "To show the armadillos how," he joked. Indeed,I had seen a lot of armadillos run-over by cars. Curtis works at an aerospace firm and often goes hiking or kayaking with his troop of boy scouts. He had known when I got to the post office in Girard, KS, because It turns out that the postmaster is a friend of his, another Boy Scout leader. He had called Curtis the minute I left the post office. Curtis also had two earlier books I had written, for me to see, including the first one.
From there I stayed on the 126 to Lockwood, then turned south on road "Z" to Everton. (Imaginative names for these roads. I even saw one called "AB".) The day had become quite hot and the road was a succession of steep hills. So at that town I stopped in the shade for a well needed rest.
In Ash Grove I felt like I needed to get out of the sun, (maybe on the verge of heat exhaustion and I had learned to not take any chances), so I went into a supermarket to cool off and drink some fluids.
From there I pedaled to Willard, where I picked up a shoulder - of all things - then on to the outskirts of Springfield, wherein lies my favorite bike shop, not to be missed. But still on the NW side of town, I got a motel.
Day 36, Missouri
August 20, 2010: From Springfield across town to the bike shop. Miles pedaled: 15
I was reluctant to leave my comfortable room, the best I've had all summer: spacious, well furnished, no odor, and not too expensive (Bayside). But I wanted to visit the bike shop even more, and that was 14 miles across town. So I had to pull up stakes.
Jenny found a good route through town, and I followed it to a tee. "Go six miles and turn left at McDonalds," and that sort of thing. So I was there at the "A & B Cycle" shop when it opened at 10:00 am. The place has an automatic door, so like 6 years before, I just wheeled the bike in, and with it proceeded to the shop area.
Right away I was greeted by a mechanic, who introduced himself as Allen. I told him what I needed: new tires, new odometer, new gloves, a few tools, and a check-out of the back dirailleur.
Allen put my bike on a rack, no need to remove my luggage because it was so small; he commented that he usually sees touring types take 20 minutes or more just to remove everything so that he can even see the bike, let alone work on it.
I had a thousand miles on these tires, and they were not worn out, but they would have been soon, and I wanted to give this shop my business. The odometer was on its last leg, and had been giving me trouble for a couple of weeks. Good riddance on that. My old gloves had been with me from the "Hello America" days, and the last time I had washed them (yesterday) the gel pads had fallen out of one. Both were shot. I needed a spoke wrench, size 0, and a few tire and tube repair things.
Allen adjusted the back dirailleur to his satisfaction, then asked me to give the bike a spin. I returned saying the gears are not changing as smoothly as I would like, so he took the bike for a spin, and said that I could use a little help with my technique. I found that I had developed a habit of changing gears too fast without letting off the pressure between cogs.
All in all, I enjoyed my visit to "A & B Cycle", and talking with Allen. I and learned a lot, and with new tires I was all set.
But in fact I didn't feel like leaving town quite yet, so I pedaled a mile to a motel and like a bloated plutocrat, checked in.
Then I went shopping for a new shirt. I had been wearing this one since the beginning of this trip, plus much of my recent A.T. hike. The shirt still looked good on the front side, but the back was terribly sun-bleached and looked awful.
On the way back from the store I found an apple tree loaded with ripe fruit. What a find, especially right in town.
Day 37, Missouri
August 21, 2010: From Springfield to Mountain View. Miles pedaled: 100
It had rained during the night, so the streets were wet. But the dawn sky was now clear as I pedaled out of town on Highway 60. Good thing the traffic was light to non-existent because in some areas the road had no shoulder - especially where the highway crew was constructing a new cloverleaf.
Then for about two hours the shoulder was wide but littered with bicycle tire flattening things like chunks glass, sharp rocks, bits of metal falling off cars, and worst of all, the highway cyclist's nemesis: blown truck tire wires. At times I felt like I was pedaling through a minefield.
But all of this pales compared to the one real danger. The traffic was well mannered as it built throughout the morning, no one tried to run me off the road, not even close. But this morning's danger was the rumble strip between the shoulder and the road. Designed to wake drowsy motorists driving off the road, but woe be to anyone on bicycle who pedals over a rumble strip at any kind of speed - say above 10 mph. Ordinarily the strips are not much of a problem; but here, in this part of Missouri, they are cut extra deep, and could throw a cyclist wildly out of control. In fact, running over that kind of rumble strip at 15 mph felt like a knock-out punch. I had one, two days ago, that had me full-body aching for 15 minutes. Then this morning I inadvertently hit another one. Man, that was bad. The problem is you have to ride very close to the rumble strip for hours, and you have to pay attention all the time. It's like hiking the A.T. where you look up then Wham! You trip over a rock or a root.
Curtis had asked me which is harder, hiking the A.T. or pedaling the Trans-America bike route. In my view, this bike trip is more difficult. The exertion levels are higher, as is the heart rate. On the Hello America bike trip we didn't find that true, but oh, the many steep hills on this route through Oregon, Idaho, Montana, and parts of Wyoming. Colorado had only a few hills of note, and Kansas was essentially flat. Fortunately I'm packing light. But then there are headwinds to get the heart pumping also. Sounds awful, but it's just what the body needs. What would be awful, to me at least, would be to slowly rot in some easy chair. For me I choose the strenuous life as the more interesting and fulfilling.
The afternoon temperature climbed into the ugly-hot, and I had to stop in the shade a few times, what little there was out on the road. Once I rested under an overpass, with cars and big trucks flying past on both sides. Strange what a cyclist can get used to.
Mid-afternoon I was hopping from town to town, from one c-store to the next, for cold drinks to beat the heat. And finally I called it quits in Mountain View.
This evening's motel was a mile east of town, but as luck would have it, there was a bar/restaurant next door. So I ate dinner there. This was a watering hole for a few dozen locals who gathered there at day's end to enjoy each others company. As an outsider I was essentially ignored, but not in an uncongenial fashion, so I liked being with them anyway. They were the kind of people who would have accepted me, I'm sure, in a few more evenings. They were having karaoke night later on, and I would have enjoyed that, but I needed to get some sleep for the next day's adventures.
Day 38, Missouri
August 22, 2010: From Mountain View to Poplar Bluff. Miles pedaled: 84
I got going half an hour after dawn; the morning was warm and windless for a while. Just east of the motel was a small factory that made soda vending machines; the machines were stacked up three high in the yard, by the hundreds.
The road was nice for pedaling with a wide shoulder except for a few miles of old highway with a completely defunct shoulder. The terrain was quite hilly so progress was slow, especially in the headwinds. But it was also beautifully forested with tall pines, oak and hardwoods, and the understory was minimal so I could have camped most anywhere.
I found out why these rumble strips are cut so deep. The drivers actually use them to alert themselves that they are driving off the road - both cars and big trucks. I often heard loud rumbling. It sounded like a piston-engine airplane doing run-ups prior to take-off.
At one high point I saw a fire tower standing high above the tall trees. I thought about climbing it, were I so energetic.
A little further on I saw two interesting signs. My camera was malfunctioning so I couldn't take photos of them. One said "$1,000 fine for littering and/or one year in jail. No more littering." I had seen such signs before in this state. The other one read: "Modok Sucks" but didn't know what that was.
I stopped for the day at Poplar Bluff, at the first motel I came to, since I would have to backtrack a short ways to get back on Highway 60.
In all, a very good day of cycling.
Day 39, Kentucky
August 23, 2010: From Poplar Bluff to Wickliffe, Kentucky. Miles pedaled: 102
I got going half an hour after dawn. Not that I'm taking anything for granted, but the end is in sight - if only just - so I'm slowing down just a bit, to enjoy the trip more. Although I did take the express route through Missouri - following Hwy 60 from Springfield.
The road wasn't as hilly today, in fact there were only two hills; otherwise the terrain was flat, good for making the miles. Granted, I had headwinds but not so strong as to slow me down much.
Throughout the day I stopped four times, for something to eat and drink, and to get off the bike seat. Then back for another 15 to 25 miles.
Now I'm going to talk about the people of Missouri. They're very friendly, in general, at least the many that I have met. It has been the same in Kansas and eastern Colorado, and in fact most of the places I've visited so far (except for some in the big cities).
Well, what about the drivers? Let me tell it this way: there's a Far Side cartoon where the professor invents a devise that can translate dog talk. To us they are saying "bark!" at everyone and everything, but to the professor with his bark translating devise, the dogs are saying "Hey!" at everyone and everything.
Well, I needed a devise that would translate car honks. At first I wondered if some of them were meant to say "Hey!, get off the road." But then I caught up with one bunch at a c-store, three young men acting sort of macho. They recognized me and the bike, and they were all big smiles and thumbs up. So now I think I understand that most honks are meant to say "Hey!, cool!"
Mid-afternoon I pedaled across the narrow bridge over the Mississippi River, into the state of Illinois, then five minutes later I was crossing another bridge spanning the Ohio River into the state of Kentucky.
I stopped for the day on the banks of the Mississippi at a small town called Wickliffe Kentucky, and found a hidden stealth-site next to the river. Then I went for something to eat at a c-store. Then back at river's edge, I pitched my tarp and spitfire, and enjoyed a most refreshing swim. The water was warm, so I floated for a long while.
Miles pedaled today: 102
- Bicycling the TransAmerica Trail
- Map
- Oregon
- Idaho
- Montana
- Wyoming
- Colorado
- Kansas
- Missouri
- Kentucky
- Virginia