day 30/31/32/33/34 (riding into kansas sunrises and finally missouri)

well, just as i was finishing my last blog update on day 29, a couple of local newspaper guys walked into the convenience store where i was relaxing and asked about my iPad. good old iPad. it has started so many conversations. well, the iPad led to my trip, and explaining my grant and blog, then out came the solar panel, and the next thing i knew, one of the guys was taking my picture for the hays, kansas newspaper. very strange. if anyone wanders into hays and notices my pic, grab an extra copy for me. didn't break 100 on day 29. the heat put a stop to those plans. only 95 miles.            





day 30. after such a huge ride the previous day, and staying at elaine's bike oasis bed and breakfast, i started off for a short day. larned was the place to be apparently-formerly a booming town on the sante fe trail, and a neighbor to a mental institution and juvenile detention center. it's weird, but i probably would not have noticed anything strange about larned, except, dan, elaine's husband and my previous night's cohost, made it a point to inform me that the people in larned are a little off, and that it wouldn't be smart to stay in the city park. if i had noticed anything strange, i most likely would have attributed it to small town syndrome. so after staggering into larned, a cheap motel provided me shelter from the locals and the heat. (side note. apparently, elaine can really throw down in the kitchen. unfortunately, i couldn't experience her cooking because she only took cash, and i just had enough to cover me staying the night. maybe on the next tour through kansas.)





an early rise on day 31 and i set out for newton, KS, which at one point rivaled wichita, KS, but just couldn't keep pace. it's always interesting to hear locals describe the town history. all stories are filled with buckets of pride, and through their perspective, history always has a way of making the town become exactly what it was meant to become. newton is 110 miles away from larned. having failed to reach a century a few days prior, i wouldn't settle for anything less than 100. 7.5 hours later, the last 2 hours in 100 degree heat, i rode victoriously into town on my faithful steed, eager to tell any stranger what i had just accomplished and looking for newton's secret. a couple bicyclists i met about 20 miles outside of town informed me that the firehouse beat any other lodging option. so i limped into the station, put on my look of desperation, and asked, "is it possible to stay here for the night?" out came two firefighters, practically carrying me and my bike inside. instantly, i had a towel in one hand, a cold drink in the other. "make yourself at home," jerry, the battalion chief, told me. i lost track of how many times he asked if i needed anything, as he whisked me through town in his fire station pickup to get my bike tuned up, catch some dinner, and give me and tom, another cyclist staying at the firehouse, a tour of his city. an amazing experience, that perfectly capped a day of riding milestones-my second century day and also 2,000 miles on my bike!    





two centuries in a row? no way. i'm crazy, but my body would have none of that on day 32 especially not in this intolerable heat. also, for the past two days, i've had a weird pain in my right ear. kind of like a headache. not excruciating, but irritating, especially as my head bobs from side to side as i "pedal faster" for my wife. since i left pueblo, CO, the wind has been coming consistently from the south. and whenever i turn in that direction, it's like riding into a furnace that has a huge fan blowing the heat right in your face. in a crosswind, i can maintain a decent speed, but riding into a headwind can slow me down almost 10 mph, and make the heat even more unbearable. well, the heat, riding south for about 20 miles (i thought chicago was east? what the.....?), the emergence of hills, and my headache made day 32 one i'd like to forget. it was the type of day that produces thoughts of calling it quits. but i persevered, and made it to eureka. i felt awful, not even having the desire to eat or watch bad tv in my motel. i called it a day at 7pm, hoping tomorrow would come quickly to ease my pain. 

i awoke on day 33 in eureka, KS, refreshed and energized at 5am. the previous night i heard another guest at the motel yell "tornado" in the middle of the night. so apparently there was a storm and a power outage, as the alarm clock was blinking. nothing was going to wake me up, though, and it was almost like the downpour cleared my ailing mind and body. i rode, and rode, and rode. bridge out? detour? 100 degree heat again? no problem. i was going to break a century, no doubt. a hundred came and went. i zoomed through my original destination, girard, took out my next map, and kept pedaling until pittsburg, KS, just 5 miles shy of MO. 129 miles. typing that number only makes me relive the amazement of that day. when i left the rugged mountains of the west and entered the plains, i thought i might be able to catch a huge tailwind one day, and pull out a huge number that would maybe carry me all the way to chicago. well, the tailwind has yet to happen, but 129 did. at some point, i just stopped looking at my bike computer and just pedaled, losing myself in thoughts of being home, hugging my wife, seeing my family and friends, and trying desperately to retell all these swirling stories in my head.

day 34. as i cross into missouri, the fact that this trip is almost over is finally starting to register. similar to the days leading up to this trip when i was filled with emotions of anxiety as i left the comforts of home, the reality that this will be over soon is filling me with a sense of emptiness. "a once in a lifetime experience," is how many other people have described my journey. really? just once? i don't know if i will tour again, although my mind is already secretly planning tours down the pacific coast, the great lakes, and the yucatan. zenia? e? pa? but a part of me has a hard time accepting that these moments are meant to be singular and an exception in life. i would never describe myself as a thrill seeker. actually, i'm too calculating and meticulous to really ever take a risk. but as soon as i stop pedaling, i know i'm going to think back to being on my bike. riding into sunrises. following rivers that wind through imposing forests. climbing to a peak and surveying the landscape below me. working out the stiffness in my knees every morning. saying a quick prayer and checking my breaks before flying down descents. screaming as loud as i could to break the silence of the nature around me. once in a lifetime. that really doesn't make any type of sense right now, and i hope it never does.