I have crossed the Great Plains. I know they were the Great Plains because every town had an enormous white grain silo that could be seen from at least 10 miles away. Particularly at the end of a long day, this had the effect of inducing an overwhelming euphoria that was eroded depressingly quickly as it became undeniably clear that significant further effort would be required to reach the town.
In general though, the Plains treated me pretty well. After the initial week of rain (that flooding I mentioned previously turned out to be an ‘A state of emergency has been declared for large parts of southeastern Kansas’ kind of thing,) I was treated to some generally moderate temperatures, and mostly calm-ish cross winds. This compares rather favorably to the horror stories I’ve heard from a number of sources involving 110 degree temperatures and 40mph wind gusts.
In Kansas, I watched giant machines crawl across endless fields of grain; in eastern Colorado, the plains were scrubby and used mostly for grazing cattle. There is something magical about the expanse of the land: it feels like standing at the center of an enormous dinner plate. The sky was bigger than I would have imagined possible. If there were anywhere I would believe that the earth was flat, the Plains would be that place.
I stayed in a few really nice bicycle-specific lodgings during this part of my journey: Elaine’s Bicycle Oasis in Bazine, Kansas, and with an amazingly generous lady named Gillian in Ordway, Colorado. Elaine had a pretty house in the middle of Kansas farm country. She fed me delicious meals, let me do my laundry, and kept degreasing scrub in the shower. It’s the little things.
Gillian is quite a character: a native New Zealander who works as a guard at the local penitentiary, keeps horses, goats, cats, dogs, and a turkey (that I saw,) and has the most incredible mullet I’ve seen in quite some time. She invites cyclists to stay at her house — in most cases, arriving, showering, and in bed before she gets home from work at 10. It’s really wonderful when people open their homes to perfect strangers engaged in the madness of a cross-country bicycle ride.
Also of note in Kansas was the beginning of my ride with Audrey. Audrey is a girl from a small town in Michigan who is also riding across the country. I met her over lunch in a Dighton, Kansas. We chatted for a while, and when I told her where I was planning to stay that night, she immediately bid me adieu, saying that it was far too many miles for her. While I was having dinner before putting in the final 20 miles of the day however, Audrey walked into the restaurant and sat down at my table. We rode the remaining 20 miles to Tribune, Kansas as dusk fell, bringing the day’s total mileage to over 100.
The next day, Audrey once again said goodbye — she was certain that she wouldn’t make it the 120 miles I had planned for the day (I wanted to get in as many miles as possible while on good flat land.) But once again, just after I had finished dinner, Audrey pulled into town. She’s certainly tougher than she thinks.
Posted by: sam