June 25

Scott City to Ness City

61/1965

I sleep in today since I'll be waiting for my UPS shipment. Take the bike around town and stop at Casper's Grocery Store. I ask the clerk I met yesterday for a good breakfast place...

" I don't know," she says as she just looks down at the conveyor.

" Well, I'm not lookin' for anything fancy..." I reply. I'm a bit baffled that she has no suggestion.

Beep....beep....beep go the groceries...

" Just some eggs and toast will do," I prod.

" I...there's....there's just nothing," she squeaks. She is the saddest person I met on the entire trip.

It turns out there IS something. A deli near the gas station. Inside I have a breakfast burrito and chat with the owner. He tells me that corn, milo and wheat are the main crops around here. Says all the crops are sterile (thanks Monsanto), and that none of the young folks want to stick around and be farmers so the land is being sold and the people are moving away. He also reports that most of the native grasses and shrubs are gone, too. Geez, I just about cry in my coffee when the conversation turns to earthquakes, solar flares and top secret military operations.

I buy a laundry bag and a pack of white T-shirts at a Dollar General store and head to the city park to pass some time. Under a shady veranda I meet Andreas (not pictured)...

Andreas is from Sweden and he rides a bad-ass Surly Long Haul Trucker. He's got a lot of gadgets, including a Kindle with a busted screen. Bummer. Funny thing about technology - now our books can break down or run out of batteries. We talk as as the mid-day heat starts to kick in. Andreas started his trip in New York City and is heading for Yellowstone. Right on. After that he's riding for South America. Whoa! His trip is going to encompass an 18 to 24 month period. He doesn't wear sunglasses or gloves or cycling shorts or any of the usual comfort items for trips of such a great duration.

I head back to the motel and twenty minutes later I intercept the UPS driver and take delivery of my new tires! They're a bit thinner than the previous set but they work just fine. By 3pm I am on the road again. I pass a church where groomsmen block traffic for a group shot of bridesmaids jumping in the middle of the street. Thirty windy miles later I reach Dighton. This place is way nicer than Scott City! I sit and eat bananas in the shade of the grocery store and ponder whether I should camp here or push for Ness City. I go for Ness City.

The wind gets stronger as the sun sets. At a rest stop I read a plaque describing the life and legacy of George Washington Carver. His home once sat atop yonder plain...

Riding at sunset is incredible. This is only the second or third time I've done it on this trip. It's safer to be done riding at this point in the day, but the exilharation of sailing across the plains in all that orange sky is very... is so ...

I stop frequently to enjoy the setting sun and watch the sky fade from orange and red to just a sliver of light blue above the horizon.
Now it's officially dark. Some cars slow to a near halt as they pass, others blast right on by. After a few close calls I begin pulling over completely to let vehicles safely pass. At one point I see something funny in my mirror. Looks like a chain of faint light. Before I can turn to look I discover that those are the little yellow lights on the side of a big rig. I jump off my bike onto the shoulder. This trucker is booming through the Kansas night without any headlights!

I reach Ness City in one piece and roll past this really spooky abandoned motel.

I ride towards some lights down a side street near what looks like a bar. It's just a garage but I holler hello to the two guys standing out front but they just stare without a word. At a liquor store I get directions to the city park. I stand out front and sip on a Coke. Lots of funny folks sift in and out of the store. A jeep loaded with high school dudes pulls up and the oldest looking one walks inside. He returns with a 30-pack on his shoulder and his buddies cheer and argue over where to drink it all.

I find the park at about 11pm and set up. All that wind I battled has vanished and it's just me and the bugs in the dead damp heat.

For some reason I am not spooked out here. I chow down a tin of weenies 'n' beenies and call it a night. An enormous snail stands guard over the park...