Today 80.4 Miles -Top Speed 23.2MPH - AVG Speed – 15.5MPH
Total 2,719.75
I was back on my own today, I had to leave early as Betty needed some professional medical care and attention in the next destination of Newton, Kansas. I popped out for breakfast, and as ever, was roped into conversation. I got chatting to the owners, some elderly women and a local gent who was, oddly, an Aussie Rules Football fanatic who jumped with delight when he heard that I was from Australia, or at least thought he heard I had sounded like I was from Australia. I’m not, by the way, in case anyone is wondering.
My breakfast had a name much like you might see on a cocktail list. "The Tornado" consisted of all the traditional US breakfast items such as biscuits (which are soft here), sausage and eggs, but then doused in a traditional white sausage gravy. After hoovering up this odd concoction of liquids and solids I began to make my way towards Newton, only to find myself in what is one of Kansas’ only non – plateaued regions known as the "Flint Hills". In addition to the unexpected climbs there were some early headwinds that left me struggling for breath more than a 70 year old smoker who'd just got off a treadmill in the Alps, but things improved in the afternoon as the winds died down and I grasped the opportunity to get moving so as not to get to Newton too late. It was around this time that the landscapes of Kansas began to resemble what I had anticipated; flat and monotonous basically, much like the Royal Variety Performance. What did strike me as beautiful during a 37 mile stretch of zero turns was the sky. The bloody enormous sky. Obviously the sky is always the same size, but with very few trees and even less undulation in the topography it seemed infinite. The various shadings from the highest point above my head to the horizon were enough to keep me entranced for hours, it felt truly humbling as the sheer size of nothing began to hit home. I can’t ever recall feeling so small in the universe as I did when I stopped for a few moments on that quiet country road.
I arrived in Newton a little later than planned and was slightly disappointed to find the bike shop from my map to be not a shop, but a home, and as a result, the level of service Betty required was not available with this particular mechanic, which was no surprise considering his house would've looked more at home in a Crimewatch reconstruction than a copy of Cycling Weekly. So now I have decided to wait until the next town and I hope she’ll hold out. She is a warrior though, and we’ve been through so much together I’d be surprised if she just fell away at this stage. Stay strong girl, stay strong.
The final stretch took me to the nights accommodation which is a fire station at the entrance of town. A real one with big, red, flashy trucks and that. I had a tour from one of the fireman and met everyone, including the chief, and I feel like a kid again. I’m kind of hoping for a fire later actually, so I can watch them go at it, that or find a cat up a tree. Maybe I’ll go catch a moggy and glue it to a branch or something, which may seem harsh to you, but it’s better than arson.
Total 2,719.75
I was back on my own today, I had to leave early as Betty needed some professional medical care and attention in the next destination of Newton, Kansas. I popped out for breakfast, and as ever, was roped into conversation. I got chatting to the owners, some elderly women and a local gent who was, oddly, an Aussie Rules Football fanatic who jumped with delight when he heard that I was from Australia, or at least thought he heard I had sounded like I was from Australia. I’m not, by the way, in case anyone is wondering.
My breakfast had a name much like you might see on a cocktail list. "The Tornado" consisted of all the traditional US breakfast items such as biscuits (which are soft here), sausage and eggs, but then doused in a traditional white sausage gravy. After hoovering up this odd concoction of liquids and solids I began to make my way towards Newton, only to find myself in what is one of Kansas’ only non – plateaued regions known as the "Flint Hills". In addition to the unexpected climbs there were some early headwinds that left me struggling for breath more than a 70 year old smoker who'd just got off a treadmill in the Alps, but things improved in the afternoon as the winds died down and I grasped the opportunity to get moving so as not to get to Newton too late. It was around this time that the landscapes of Kansas began to resemble what I had anticipated; flat and monotonous basically, much like the Royal Variety Performance. What did strike me as beautiful during a 37 mile stretch of zero turns was the sky. The bloody enormous sky. Obviously the sky is always the same size, but with very few trees and even less undulation in the topography it seemed infinite. The various shadings from the highest point above my head to the horizon were enough to keep me entranced for hours, it felt truly humbling as the sheer size of nothing began to hit home. I can’t ever recall feeling so small in the universe as I did when I stopped for a few moments on that quiet country road.
I arrived in Newton a little later than planned and was slightly disappointed to find the bike shop from my map to be not a shop, but a home, and as a result, the level of service Betty required was not available with this particular mechanic, which was no surprise considering his house would've looked more at home in a Crimewatch reconstruction than a copy of Cycling Weekly. So now I have decided to wait until the next town and I hope she’ll hold out. She is a warrior though, and we’ve been through so much together I’d be surprised if she just fell away at this stage. Stay strong girl, stay strong.
The final stretch took me to the nights accommodation which is a fire station at the entrance of town. A real one with big, red, flashy trucks and that. I had a tour from one of the fireman and met everyone, including the chief, and I feel like a kid again. I’m kind of hoping for a fire later actually, so I can watch them go at it, that or find a cat up a tree. Maybe I’ll go catch a moggy and glue it to a branch or something, which may seem harsh to you, but it’s better than arson.
"It may be messy, but it sure is fun to clean it up". He was right.
Yeah, well done.
This is Kansas, basically.
Flirting with Betty.
You're in oil country now, boy.
Unfortunately, I'm going to be staying near this opera forever more. Next time, perhaps.
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