Flying through Kansas

Friday, July 28. Sterling, KS to Larned, KS.

We resolved to get up early to beat the heat today, and although it was after 6 when we finally got up we still managed to get on the road before 7:40. The route we faced was about 50 straight miles between Sterling and our destination for the day, Larned, with not even one town in between, so we expected to finish in the early afternoon. We prepared by bringing lots of water and snacks to be sure we would not run out of fuel.

We have neglected identifying some of the birds we have seen along the way, but maybe it has worked out for the best - today we saw just about every kind of bird we have seen since entering ILLINOIS. There were the usual suspects: red-wing blackbirds, mourning doves, and sparrows. But we have continued to see great blue herons all across Kansas, usually just one at a time, in the tiny rivers and isolated ponds. Today we saw egrets, too. The brilliant orange flash of an oriole caught our attention at one point, and a great flock of meadowlarks flew in unison over a field of corn. Two wild turkeys dashed off into the woods as we rode past, and a vulture posed for us atop a rusted windmill vane, conveniently framed by the entrance gate to the Proffitt farm. There were other birds we could not see in enough detail to ID, and others that we saw but did not recognize. We will have to consult with our west-coast birding affiliate with our observations.

Much of the bird life we saw today, perhaps, was because of the Quivira Wildlife Refuge, through which our route passed today. It encompasses the Great Salt Marsh and the Little Salt Marsh, and many acres of surrounding land. On both sides of the refuge, we were struck by the abundant pine trees and junipers that lined the road (even though beyond them we could clearly see fields under cultivation). The scent of the pine trees was an unexpected pleasure, and a welcome alternative to the other, more stupefying stenches that have assaulted us from time to time.

Just as we entered the Quivira NWR, one of the few cars that would pass by us this day drove by in the opposite direction. It was a station wagon, woefully overloaded inside and carrying three bicycles on a rack on the back; in the front seat, three people seemed to be uncomfortably close together. They waved back at us as they went by, and we were left to wonder what THAT story was. None of the scenarios I came up with seemed plausible. We might have eventually stumbled upon the right answer, but fortunately, fate intervened and we met Max, John and David a little further up the road.

In Kansas, since we left the Flint Hills and are now actually in the FLAT part, we can see for many miles. On this occasion, I could see the trio of riders long before we actually met them coming the opposite direction. The shimmery road-surface mirage effect blurred the bottom of their tires in the distance; they would be a single dark spike hovering over the wavy horizon, then split into two as the lead rider pulled out and drifted to the back of the line and let the second rider lead for a bit. Then they would merge back into the single, mysterious spike. We were just about 20 miles into the ride, much too early to be seeing things. I knew it had to be other cyclists; the question was, were they locals out for a training ride (which seemed likely if they were riding the paceline style they seemed to be), or were they cross-country touring cyclists like us?

As we approached each other, they drifted across the road to our side. There was no traffic at all, and we took up the majority of a lane as we stood and talked. Max (from Oxford), John (from Ohio), and David (from San Diego), are half of a team of cyclists raising money for cancer research by riding across the country from San Francisco to the end of the Trans-America route. They seemed to be traveling VERY light - David was wearing a patched tube like a belt of ammunition across his chest and had a tiny under-seat storage bag, and neither Max nor John seemed to have anything at all on their bikes. Good thing: they had started this morning before 2AM from Ness City, our destination for TOMORROW, and were headed to Newton, our stopping point from YESTERDAY, a total of about 170 miles. When we asked about their support, they described the station wagon we had seen pass us just a few miles before. The explanation was that the prairie is just SO BORING, that as a compromise only half of them are riding, half the time. The others (who comprise Ezra, Jacob, and Patrick today) ride in the support car. Max, John and David will ride in the car tomorrow.

We were not able to access their website when we stopped at the Larned public library today, but if anyone is interested in their efforts their website is www.crosscountryforcancer.org. It may have been the computers at the library; we were also not permitted to upload any pictures. Security concerns. Hmph. I guess the terrorists have already won Kansas.

Less than an hour after we said our so long and good lucks, we saw Ben from London. Ben started from San Francisco four weeks ago and is riding solo with loaded panniers. He had started late this morning from Larned and had not seen the trio of riders, but was also headed for Newton, so he may meet them tonight. He set out to cross the country, but thinks he may call it a trip in a week or so; the insinuation was that he had "not camped as often as he should have" and was maybe running low on funds, but we never found a tactful way to ask. In any event, he looked fit enough to make the whole trip, and we gave him what information we had about the road ahead. Nancy got pictures of him and of the other three for the blog, and we will post them when we can.

Nearing Larned, we were confronted with the unmistakable scent of feedlots. On the southeast side of town, there is one operation that seems to cover perhaps 50 acres (that we could see), maybe more. All the buildings were purple, even the crane, a reasonably attractive shade of purple, too. But the odor was an olfactory sucker-punch. My eyes watered. I had thought the haze we could see up the road was just the high humidity; now, I think maybe it was something else.

Despite the odiferous welcome, Larned turns out to be a nice, friendly place. We found the post office easily enough, right across the street from the library, and went to retrieve the three packages we were expecting: one from the hotel in Sedalia where we had inadvertently left our phone wall-charger (they graciously sent it ahead for us), one from Jim and Suzi with unknown delights, and one from Michal and Leroy. That last one contained a much-appreciated bag full of king-size Payday bars, which have unexpectedly been harder to come by than we thought. Jim and Suzi sent us a treasure trove of dried fruits and a couple more Payday bars. We seem to be well-prepared now for the next week, which takes us through some pretty sparsely-populated areas. Thanks!

We had made it to Larned in time for lunch, and upon hearing of the existence of a Wendy's nearby, Nancy apparently fixated on the possibility of having a Frosty. A Frosty is a chocolate "soquid" that you eat with a "fpoon", according to the advertising spots on TV. Nancy wanted one. So we went to Wendy's for lunch, where we met a very nice couple also having lunch who asked us the usual questions; and we asked ours, of course. He is a farm equipment salesman on the road four days a week, and she comes with him; they clearly enjoy each other's company. In their 60's, we presume, he owns some farmland which his son farms full-time, and he helps out on the weekends. He helped solve one lingering puzzle for us, though; he referred to one of their crops and "milo" and described the plant we saw several days ago, which we assumed was sorghum. Turns out it is the same thing. Sorghum has an alias. Who knew?

Tomorrow we head to Ness City, about 63 miles of (we think) mostly flat terrain. I know we will encounter some hills, but I think we are well-prepared for them. If we find a way, we will upload some pictures. Until tomorrow!