Thank you Josh

I feel like I’m on repeat, but today was, you guessed it, really windy and really hot. We pedaled into the wind, which was gusting to 40 miles per hour. It was 114 degrees. Around 3 p.m., we still had 17 miles to go to get to Ness City Kansas. To give you perspective, on a road bike with no gear and normal Ohio wind, this would have taken us less than an hour, easy. But, here in Kansas, with the wind, we average about 8mph. So, it would have taken us about 3 hours.

We both felt really defeated, but we pedaled on because we had no choice in the matter. I spotted a couple guys working the oil derricks, I noticed they had trucks, and seemed to be just hanging out. So yes, I confess, I asked them if they were heading to Ness City. I quickly followed with, “I’ll pay you to take us there.” The oil worker, whose name is Josh, immediately replied, “no you can’t pay me, but I’ll take you!” “I’m heading there right now.” O’ Wonderful, perfect oil derrick worker Josh. He saved us. We hopped in the truck, and Josh pulled out onto the road. I felt like we were going about 95mph, since I was used to a speed of 8mph. He told us all about tornados, and the perils of Kansas storms. It is supposed to storm tomorrow, so by the time we got out of the truck, my worries had progressed from simple concerns of wind and heat, to concerns of lightening, tornados, wind and heat.

As miserable as this trip sounds sometimes, the truth is, I love the challenge. It is incredibly mentally and physically challenging, and it is always unpredictable. It’s certainly not boring. At the end of the day, we always end up safe, and it is great to lay around thinking and laughing about of all the obstacles we overcame that day. We got to Ness City, got checked in the hotel, and promptly headed down the road for a beer. I expected to find an empty bar with a lonesome bored bar tender, but when I opened the door, the bar was bustling with people drinking beers and staying out of the heat. The people in Kansas have been some of the nicest!

Melissa

An oven called Kansas

Today, we broke. Today, after riding in 24 mile per hour winds and a heat index of 109 and 58 miles with no service on the route and a flat tire . . . we got a hotel room. Nope! Not camping tonight.

We had planned on free camping at the town park, but after the town swimming pool employees told us that a bike had recently been stolen and that the town teenagers would be cruising by our “campsite” all night long and the wind was still blowing incredibly fast and the 7 p.m. sun still felt like it was burning us, we got a hotel room.

Actually, we thought about it for a while. We debated on either getting a hotel room every night while in the heat of Kansas, or renting a U-Haul and driving to Colorado. We actually walked to the U-Haul store, but it was closed, and so our fate was closed. Hotel room it is . . . until we get to a place where our insides don’t boil while we sleep and the wind doesn’t rip through our dreams at night.

Ooooohhhh, the wind. The wind is brutal. It’s unrelenting. It’s like nothing I have ever experienced in my life. Imagine leaning left into the wind while sitting on your bike for five to seven hours each day. And then imagine what it’s like when a semi truck goes by. The semi stops the wind for a second, so that your body automatically goes left, hard and fast, so that all you can do is react and push down with your right hand as hard as possible . . . and then the semi is gone . . . and the wind is back, so that you fly right, towards the ditch. Oh.The.Wind.

Brooke

More of these today.

Most of the trees look like this-- windblown.

This cute little guy gave us some entertainment for a while.

Flat tires, poison ivy and a flat screen TV

I’ve been dreading this moment since Day One -- the day I get my first flat. Outside the small town of Buhler, Kansas, I was all over the road. I was swerving left and swerving right and actually yelled out to myself in an annoyed voice, “Go f’ing straight!”

Finally, I looked down at my tire. Flat. Completely and utterly flat. After a long sigh, I got off my bike, took off the front panniers, pumped it back up, threw the front panniers back on and rode as fast as I could until it went flat again-- which ended up being every two miles. I repeated this a couple of times instead of changing the flat right there on the side of the road. Why? Because it was hot with no shade, and I could see Buhler in the distance.

When we finally got to Buhler, changing the tire was easy. We found some shade, took our time and the tire change went smoothly. We headed off to Hutchinson, where we found an amazing free biker hostel. It’s located in the basement of a church, has beds with clean sheets, a shower, and most spectacularly there are flat screen TVs mounted above the beds! What’s not to love? Cable TV, movies, air conditioning and a full kitchen for us to enjoy. Because the riding has been a little brutal due to heat, we decided that staying here for two nights and taking a rest day would be a great idea.

And . . . I have my first case of poison ivy. Ugh.

Brooke

Can we move in?

Kansas heat wave

Today has been a bit tough due to the merciless, unwavering, cruel, cruel heat. Actually, I’m declaring that today this trip goes into the ThisMakesMeFeelCompletlyCrazyAndWhyDidIDoThisToMyself Category.

There are heat warnings. Specifically, it’s 101 degrees with a heat index of 114!!! The roads are bubbling up and sticking to our tires because they too are pissed off. You can see the heat rising up off the road in those blurry little see though lines, and the water I continue to pump into my body is as boiling hot as I am. The water situation is a losing battle anyhow. Inevitably, I end up dehydrated and cranky.

I forgot to mention that the cows are literally dropping dead in the pasture from the heat, all 2,300 of them thus far. It is really sad, and speaks volumes about how hot it actually is. But, if there is a plus side, the local news team seems really excited to have something to report on. Speaking of the local news, it is super entertaining in small town Kansas. The news casters seem like they are in a high school play about news reporting, with their scripted chuckles, giggles and kooky one liners. But, that’s another story.

All we see are these poor smoldering cows as we ride through Kansas. We rode and rode for miles and miles, and saw cows and hay and that’s about it. 76 miles later, we rode into Newton, Kansas, and saw a mexican restaurant. Perfect! We leaned our bikes on the wall outside and went in. I’ve never been outright cringed at for my appearance, until today. As I walked past a woman happily eating her chimichanga or whatever, she blatantly cringed and turned away in horror as I strolled past en route to the bathroom. Huh, I thought, I must look pretty bad.

Turns out, my appearance was cringe worthy, my clothing and skin were covered in dried and crusted white salty sweat. Rings of it everywhere. Well, guys, that’s what happens when you bike 76 miles through a Kansas crosswind ripping from the south at 22 miles per hour in the 101 degree heat. So, we scarfed down baskets of chips and salsa, and ate our hearts out. We arrived at the city park, where we discovered a pool. We dove in. City pools are usually free to cross country cyclists, which is awesome. The pool had a shower, which was also amazing. We camped out for free in the park with another cross country cyclist we met named Matt.

Melissa

Keep your fingers crossed for these guys.

Jealous yet?

A one horse town (with a pool)

We didn’t plan on stopping in Eureka, Kansas, today. And we definitely did not plan on getting a hotel room. But as we peddled past the Blue Stem Lodge in the self-proclaimed ‘Horse Racing Capital of Kansas’, we saw the pool. We considered our options: ride another 30 miles to a town park without a shower, or escape the 109 degree heat index in the inviting pool.

Brooke

Is that a herd of deer on the wall?

It goes without saying that we were elated to wake up to this magnificent sunrise. AHH, so beautiful and a great way to start the day.
Having access to the church kitchen made it really hard to get on the road early. Brooke and I have been really good about saving money by camping out. So having a stove, coffee pot, microwave and a real table and chairs at our disposal was something we wanted to lazily enjoy. We decided to sit and have an entire second pot of coffee, just because we could.

The downside to that decision was that we ended up riding until almost 5 p.m. through the hottest part of the day. We had 70 miles to ride, and we got a late start. Our bicycle map takes us on backroads through small towns and there are usually 30 plus miles in between towns. So, it’s not like you can just stop at any point when you become tired and frustrated with riding. Often times, you are out in the middle of nowhere, and there is nothing to stop at for miles.
Here in Kansas, the heat has been unbearable. There has been a heat advisory, which makes riding in the middle of the afternoon borderline dangerous. So, we’ve been trying to get on the road as early as possible to get the riding done before it gets too stifling hot.

We finally headed out, and things were fine, we had a nice tailwind and were making good time. Until this.We had to go around, which added time and miles. We continued on, until this.

UGH. Again, we got around it, but added time and miles.

It was getting late, and we were overheated. We stopped into a little gas station and ran into two bikers heading the opposite direction. They mentioned a women they met about 15 miles down the road who hosts bikers in the town’s community center. The two cyclists were adamant that we stop and check it out. We were looking for the last house on the right in the small town of Coyville.

We rode right up, and knocked on the door. Only on a self contained bicycle tour would we do something like this. Gayla answered the door, acting as though she expected us. “Come on in!” “what do you need?” “ice water?” “would you like to do laundry?” “sit down, here’s the TV remote and make yourself at home.”

The first thing I saw upon entering the door was a mass amount of deer antlers. Oh yikes. Taxidermy- the act of mounting or reproducing dead animals for display. Check this out.

I’m obviously no hunter, I don’t eat meat, and I admit I was a little stunned by the zoo on the wall. But, Gayla was great, and she asked us to stay for dinner and let us shower and do laundry. How awesome is that? Gayla was a fast talker and often answered her own questions. She was a riot. We ate dinner under the eyes of the 10 or 12 mounted deer on the wall. After dinner, she took us across the street to the town community center, where we would sleep for the night. Yes, air conditioning and a roof!

Melissa

Welcome to Kansas

While researching and reading blogs about bike touring, I read a lot about the Immanuel Lutheran Church in Walnut, Kansas. It’s on a country road with nothing around it for miles. And bikers stop in for a rest or a roof over their head.

As we turned our bikes down the first paved road after mile-post 42, we saw a sign telling us we were five miles away. There was a gradual incline up those five miles, and we couldn’t see the church. But as we topped the rise, the steeple of the church seemed to raise out of the earth in front of us. And there it stood -- a picturesque white two-story church, smack dab in the middle of hay fields and corn fields.

There was a note on the Fellowship Hall door, welcoming all cyclist and inviting us to anything we could find in the kitchen. Melissa and I did just that. We cooked a great meal and settled in for the night. Around 8 p.m., Pastor John came in and welcomed us to his church. As he left he said, “This is your home for tonight.”

Brooke