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Kansas Again

Part 48 of the Cycle-Across-America series. (Read from the start in Boston or see the full index)

The next section of the journal is taped and transcribed but as both tape and transcript are inaccessible in storage here is a brief outline of that day from memory, and from excerpts of the journal that was handwritten, a more detailed account of the following day.

Thursday, 3rd October.
A short grey day. Dominated by Harlan County Lake.

I had cycled through the town in the night so was staying on the edge which meant I avoided having to cycle past the Piggly-Wiggly and other wonderfully named American box chains in the morning.

Due south on US 183 for 23 miles took me to the small town of Alma just 7 miles short of the state of Kansas. And then there it was, Harlan County Lake. Or there it wasn’t, to be more exact.

There was no water.

Harlan County Lake is on the Republican River. It’s a big name for a big river, but there was nothing for me to see. And I love seeing nothing.

The road crosses the western end of the lake where it meets the river, but for me there was a beautiful silent mass of lifeless leafless trees growing in the remains of a dried up river and lake. For a mile I cycled in this graveyard of grey.

Harlan county Lake is a U.S. Army Corps of Engineers’ project and, with over 13,000 acres of water surface, is Nebraska’s 2nd largest lake. east of me it stretched for 9 miles.

Halfway across I got off the bike just to stand there. On the fence beside me was a praying mantis perfectly coloured for a weathered Nebraskan fence under a grey sky.

And then it was back cycling south. Once over the ridge on the far side it was maybe 5 miles to the state line. I was entering the state of Kansas for the 2nd time on the trip. This was bleak and big though, in contrast to the sunny green hills of southeast Kansas all those weeks ago.

This was what I imagined most people thought of when they thought of Kansas. I passed the “Welcome to Kansas” sign with fields of milo on one side of the road and corn on the other. Big fields.

It’s not like cycling anywhere else in the world, with one day being just one road, straight and in one direction. Luckily for sanity US 183 did a kink where it headed east for a mile or so before resuming its direction due south for another 20 miles.

In Phillipsburg I’m not sure why I decided to cycle past the motel in a town that clearly wouldn’t have many. But on the outskirts of town on the far side I saw another motel. Kind of. It was still being built.

But I could see an office so I went in. Before I spoke the women at the desk told me who I was and that I wasn’t supposed to be there. This was a surprise.

-Where am I supposed to be?
-In the other motel in town; they’re expecting you.
-Oh. Well I’d like to stay here if I can.

They said they weren’t really open because they were building but I said please and they said I could stay for reduced rates.

So I did. Seems phonecalls from Kansas City had been made by people guessing what towns I’d end up in. Sometimes you don’t want to go where people are expecting you.

[An account of the next day in Kansas constitutes the rest of this entry and it’s below the fold]

Friday, 4th October, 11.00pm, Plainville, Kansas

Did I say yesterday was the shortest day yet? Well I’ve just surpassed it. It’s the wind. Throw in another late start and a pain in my stomach, and I don’t get very far. 40 miles only. I didn’t make Hays.

There was enough daylight for another hour of cycling but my average speed today straight into a 20 mph plus wind was 7.7 mph and decreasing. That is, at the time of finishing it was 6 mph and even less. With Hays only 23 miles to the South it was actually 4 hours away under those conditions. It makes for very frustrating cycling.

After leaving postcards at the desk I loaded up with food to take me a long way. Did this next door to the Cottonwood Motel at the Colonial Restaurant. Two Biscuits and Gravy, and an English Muffin with grape jelly. Two cups of Black Pekoe and Orange Pekoe tea.

When I stood up I got this horrible pain high in my stomach. It showed no sign of easing up outside so I thought I may as well cycle as double over in the car park.

Straight South and into the wind. There was a shoulder and once away from the town there was virtually no traffic. But the landscape changed so quickly. In no time I was amongst lots of small hills with rocky ridges sticking up through the grass.

The town of Glade was 5 miles away but there was little there. I took a photo of a tacky Indian carving advertising some company.

The fascinating landscape of grassy hills and stony ridges stopped as suddenly as it started. Overall it formed a hill and like all the other hills in Kansas it’s more of a plateau. I think this was near where I left Phillips County and entered Rooks County.

The wide shoulder also stopped at this point and I was left with 2 feet. With little traffic that was fine. From the top of the hill I could see a very striking mound structure many miles to the west. I had first seen it yesterday from North of Phillipsburg when I must’ve been at least 25 miles away from it. I wanted to ask somebody what it was but as ever there was nobody in these parts.

When you do get views like that you can see for so far and realise how little life there is out there, in terms of houses and farms anyway. At one point I could see a small flat-ish hill to the southeast on the horizon. It very much reminded me of the Hill of Allen in Ireland, perhaps because of the huge surrounding flatlands.

I’d only done 25 miles when I arrived in Stockton but at 8 mph, and less, that was over 3 hours and I was eating. I’d already decided that if I found out there was a motel in Plainville then I would call it a day there giving the wind a chance to hopefully die down or at the very least I could rest, have an early night and make a concerted effort to leave early in the morning.

If I found out there was no motel in Plainville then I wasn’t sure what I’d do. I could try in Stockton - but to stop after only 25 miles? To cycle on to Hays in this wind would mean over two hours cycling in the dark.

Cycled around the downtown taking a photo of a mural of a train and decided that Cindy Loo’s was the cafe for me. They kept refilling my Pepsi and my water. I was evidently thirsty. 3 large, of each. A chilli cheeseburger with potato chips was ordered and I was told that the Evergreen Motel was on the right-hand-side as you entered Plainville. So I could relax and enjoy my meal. Maybe the wind would even die down. If it did I could still make Hays.

Apart from me there was only old women in the cafe, and one old man who asked me questions and pretended he could hear my answers. I heard his wife filling him in on my answers afterwards.

When they were finished I watched him spend 10 minutes counting out his loose change to pay his bill while the waitress smiled at me. Whenever I count my change to pay the exact amount I find out that the tax hasn’t been added yet. That’s annoying. I’ve got a lot of change.

When I left, the older of 2 waitresses came outside to talk to me. She said that 183 (US Route - that I was on at the time) had been closed from Stockton to Plainville and they only opened it up unexpectedly yesterday evening. Otherwise I’d've been looking at a serious detour, probably in the region of an extra 16 miles. The road had been closed since May - I must remember to keep in touch with road conditions when my choice of roads are so limited.

She said that they’d been spared the heavy rains affecting so much of the rest of the country this summer but that there was still a lot of moisture in the ground from the big floods a couple of years back.

This brand new section of 183 only had an 18 inch shoulder and was much busier. Very little corn and only the odd field of milo. A lot of ploughed fields showing that the soil was a sandy texture and colour. And still many green and brown grassed fields - a very weathered landscape. Intoxicating I described it as on the post card I’ve just written to Dublin. In terms of colours and textures and size it is. I really don’t understand people who can only enjoy the spectacular mountain and/or seascapes.

Only about one in 10 vehicles were waving to me. I know, I counted. 7mph is not very fast. But at least most people in Kansas wave properly. I find myself mirroring their wave. Using whatever hand they used and making the same movement. It’s a reflex thing. And if they are only adjusting their sun visor then I simply adjust my helmet.

In Nebraska they waved in a fashion that was like shooting at the sky with their finger. I even ended up copying this alien gesture. Today it occurred to me what if one day some driver wanted to alert me to a dangerous object about to fall on my head? I imagine I would simply wave at him/her and blindly shoot the falling object with my finger.

Cycled all around town before checking in here. There’s not much to the town and the main street is a mish mash but at least they have one. There seems to be a lot of farm equipment on sale here.

The Dairy Queen provided the “Ultimate” burger meal, and with the forecast for winds from the south of 25mph I think I may head due west tomorrow. I may be a day late in Liberal.

Read the Next Entry (#49) in My Bicycle Trip Across America

Read more from my Cycle Across America

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 11th, 2008 at 5:57 am and is filed under 1-eolai, Cycle Across America. You can follow responses via my RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.