On the Road

Hot. Flat. Windy.

 

 

 

The road is pretty lonely today. Miles and miles of open field stretch in every direction, punctuated occasionally by a grain silo which marks another small mid-west town along the railway and highway. 

The ‘highway’ is not a highway in an east coast sense of the word. It’s a two lane, center striped, 60 to 65 mph asphalt, undulating, straight shot of an arrow into a space between brown earth exposed by the plow, green waving grass of the coming wheat crop, a few bunches of scattered trees where there is water near the surface, and a blue sky that goes, and goes, and just goes on forever. 

Hot and dry, you can feel the moisture being sucked out of your skin. My hair is dry and standing on end like it was charged with static electricity. I look like some cross between Albert Einstein and Don King in the hair department. 

Guess what? I don’t care. I have fallen into my road persona. As much as we are gawking at the local sights and experience, I realize people are gawking at us. Reminds me of the time in western Pennsylvania when a waitress in a small bar, in a tiny town stated, ‘You ain’t from round here, are ya?’  No Miss. I am not. 

I am not from around here either.  Yet in their manners, behaviors, and accommodation, I feel transported back to a place where I once lived, and is now more alien to me than home. 

A few more pics from yesterday. Seems appropriate. 

 

 

 

 

 

Mushroom Rock

A pretty 5 acre state park west of Salina. Several rock formations and a pleasant walk among them. Wind is picking up again, keeping us cool in the 90 degree and rising heat. 

 

Wilson

Another small town along the way that is trying hard to push what few assets it has left to attract attention. It’s sad to see small town,  mid-west America, fading into oblivion.  I talk with a lot of proud people who describe an existence one step above desperation. Maybe only a half step. These are the people, along with manufacturing workers, who have taken the brunt of 30 years of globalization, BIG business, and the current administration’s policies.  The only way they are going down easy, is if you pump more drugs and alcohol into their young. 

 

 

 

 

 

          

 

Fence Post Country

Due to a shortage of wood, and an abundance of limestone – fenceposts were carved of limestone. Each post weighs between 300 to 400 pounds. That must have been fun work in the 100 degree heat – dig a hole – plant a post – move to next – repeat. 

 

 

 

 

 

Garden of Eden

Sure was full of scary sculpture made from concrete – 2,300 or so bags of concrete. Even more incredible, at 81 the sculptor married a 20 year old gal and fathered 2 children. He died at 84, probably while trying to add number 3 to the clan. 

Thanks for the recommend, Kara.

 

 

Center of the 48 States

This is the center of the contiguous 48 states. The center of North America is about 20 miles south of this point.  We are almost halfway in our journey. Tomorrow EM’s back on the bike and we’ll be saying goodbye to Kansas and hello to Nebraska very soon.

Floods in Yellowstone and winds today of up to 75 miles per hour make it seem like Mama Nature doesn’t approve of our little adventure.

I asked EM to get some heavy rope out of the back of the van as I was preparing to get out to take a picture. She asked, ‘Why?’

‘So I have something to keep me attached to the van if you have to turn it so that I can open a downwind door to get back inside.’ 

Yes. It felt that bad. I kept getting pushed around by heavy gusts as I tried to take pictures. Look at the flags!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blustery Day

Evy biked into Bellaville with at least a 25 mile per hour tailwind. Usually I’m at the pick-up point early. Today I was late by 30 minutes. Tailwind really helps to push the bikers down the road. 

We decided to head to Salina for a down day. Evy wants to see all the summer hits as they roll into theaters.  This mission was to see Jurassic Park. 

Her tailwind was a 90 degree cross-wind for the van as we headed due south. It was some of the hardest driving I’ve done. We were consistently buffeted by winds up to 40 mph + gusts. It required constant attention at the wheel – constant counter-steer on the open road, ease off where there were windbreaks, then back to counter-steer quickly as you got back into the stream. Getting passed by a speeding semi was like crossing into the Nexus in the Starship Enterprise. 

Jurassic Park – well, if you like dinosaurs chasing people all over the place – enjoy.  Otherwise the plot (?) is pretty much captured by the image of the grasshopper – dead in the grill of the van. 

 

 

 

 

Hollenberg Station – Pony Express station at the intersection of the Oregon-California Trail. Original home is the center third, each end was added, as well as a shed roof/rooms the length of the building to be able to service more customers – pioneers going west

 

Pony Express

The only remaining pony express station standing on it’s historic location. 

Amazing facts about the Pony Express: 

  • It was only in existence for 18 months. Completion of telegraph lines from St. Joseph, MO to Sacramento, CA eliminated the need for the express. 
  • The owners hoped to get Federal mail contracts. The Civil War put and end to those hopes – other priorities. 
  • The fastest passage was 8 days, 7 hours. From Atchison, KS to Sacramento, CA. 
  • Relay posts were 11 to 15 miles apart – horses were changed here. 
  • Stations were 75 miles apart – riders were changed here. Stations were often existing hotels or farms which expanded into hotel work to support riders and the overland stages. 
  • Of 89 riders, only one died on the job. Station and relay personnel had much higher casualty rates – they were stationary targets. 
  • Without the mail contracts, the company went bankrupt. Wells Fargo and Overland Stage Company bought their assets. 
  • No diaries were kept and any records that did exist were lost in bankruptcy or fire. The whole story of the express could have been lost to history except for two factors. Stagecoach passengers would see the express riders and their stories and embellishments romanticized the young men which in turn prompted news coverage during the era. Bill Cody hired several riders for his Wild West Show. Part of the extravaganza was to have the Pony Express riders race around the ring with Indians in hot pursuit. The Riders always won. 
  •  A special ‘mochila’ was designed for the riders. It was easy to throw over the saddle for fast horse changes, held 4 oversized pockets for mail and newspapers, and provided a uniform smooth surface to protect a mans tenders from the rigors of long days astride a galloping horse. 
  • The fastest transit time was 8 days 7 hours. 
  • Individual riders were know to have traveled as much as 120 to 140 miles in a single day. Even at an average speed of 11 miles per hour – that was a very long gallop on horseback. 
  • Riders were issued Bibles. Even though they were small versions – weight was a big concern. Riders typically carried only a pistol for defense to eliminate the weight of a rifle. 

 

 

Kansas

Saw my first stone fence line today. Couldn’t find a good place to stop and take a picture. Due to a scarcity of wood, and an abundance of easy to quarry limestone, limestone was used for fence posts instead of the more common wood, trees, or metal stakes. Each one weighs 300 to 400 pounds. These home setters were tough. Imagine after digging several hundred holes for fence post, you have to manhandle 400 pound posts into the hole, then attach your barbwire. Hard work.

 

Buzzards were sitting on top of an old, dilapidated, holes in the roof and walls barn.

I thought – gosh guys, even after it finally dies, it ain’t gonna taste good. 

EM is in fine spirits and biking well despite the heat and humidity. It’s getting into the high 80’s, low 90’s. Tough walking around – how about biking 50 miles. Or sinking some limestone posts on the fence line. 

 

 

 

Atchison, KS

Home of Amelia Earhart, alternate starting point of the Pony Express (when it was feared Missouri was going to the Confederacy), and  MGP Spirits. 

Rail runs right through the center of town – a trail ever hour or so. You can sit at a crossing for 10 minutes as stock cars, oil tankers, or grain cars roll by. If you go down to 6th street, it goes over the train, so lots of auto traffic on 6th street.

A slight wiff of fermenting grains escapes the 5 story fermentation tanks. This is making spirits on an industrial scale – grain cars unloaded into grain elevators, elevators emptied into building size tanks and distillation columns. Impressive. 

The Missouri River is still quite muddy. Louis and Clark State Park is a good place to spend the night, it is back across the river to Missouri. 

 

 

 

Paradise

The sign said, “Welcome to Paradise”. 

When we saw the ice cream chair, we thought, ‘Indeed!’ ‘We are in Paradise!’

And then we saw…… Sasquatch!

Not sure this is paradise after all. 

More turtles crossing the road today. Passed about 6. The turtle count today is now higher than rabbit or red shouldered blackbirds combined. 

 

 

 

 

“Is there any place to eat near here? ”

  • most asked question by women as they roll into a trail station. Sometimes the answer is ‘Yes’. Often it is, ‘up the trail a few miles to…… (the next station).”

 

Missouri and Katy

Like two intertwined lovers the trail and river are never far apart and twist back and forth over or under each other as we head west. The back roads keep me aware of this interplay as I cross one, then the other and work on staying on the serene country roads, avoiding the bustle of the interstate system. Google and I have settled into a relationship of convenience. It helps me to zero in on detailed locations, I understand it’s bias and failings, and manipulate or ignore it to get the results I need.

I’ve gotten to the point that I think its consistent ‘parking lot spin’, you know, that spin it does when it doesn’t really know where it is is a big parking lot — is kinda cute. It used to annoy the F*** out of me. Now I realize it’s just lost and doing a little dance to cover it’s ass until it can figure out where it is. I know where I’m going. I just drive. Google, like a dog smelling something interesting during a hike on a trail, soon realizes the boss is leaving, so I’d better catch up and run ahead of him. We’re working out our issues. 

Each of the old rail line stations has a structure reminiscent of the railway stations that are often long gone. Most had rotted away by the late 1960’s. A few still exist. These new stations serve much the same purpose. You get a historic overview of the trail, the local community (reason for the station), direction – next station/town in either direction, bathroom, water, bike repair/air up pedestal, ads for local amenities like barbers, FOOD, beer, wine, ice, camping, hostel, or rooms-to-board (if available), and a quiet place to sit in the shade, or protected from the rain. 

Want to build  back better? How about a modern CCC to create a national trail system on the Katy model. I volunteer to be national director. Compensation – room, board, and gas as I travel the lines to make sure it’s being done correctly. I have the credentials – my BS in Recreation and Park Management, Outdoor Adventure.  I’d have to go back to school to get my PhD before I could handle a job of this magnitude and scope as I noticed that even job posts for manure spreaders require a Masters degree. 

 

 

 

Wrapped with loooove, by doctor D.,
CSC, CC, CGM, CCN, CD, MS, COM, etc.,,,,,,
(Certified Ship’s Carpenter, Chief Cook, Certified Groover Mover, Certified Chief Navigator, Master Scout, Cynical Old Man…..)

 

Healing n Wrapping

We took another down day so that EM’s wrist can heal.

Slept in till check-out time at the Alton KOA.

Crossed the BIG MUDDY, The Father of All Waters, the Mississippi. Big and muddy today. 

Stopped at a bike shop in St Louis, MO. 

Ate lunch at Pappy’s Smokehouse — another indescribably delicious meal.  Just go there if you liked smoked ribs and roasted corn on the cob. 

Scored a hot tub at the local Sleep Inn to give my honey a break. 

We re-wrapped her bike handle bars to test a theory that the spaces where there is no wrap, may be causing some of the wrist pain. Adjusted bike seat angle and handlebar angles – wish us luck that this will get EM back on the bike trail – the Katy Trail is waiting!!!!

Saw Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness – some pretty cool scenes. No spoilers here – go see it yourself. 

 

 

This is really the Missouri River –  just above confluence with Mississippi. 

Cahokia, largest of the North American Native Mound Works
 
Monks Mound – highest native mound work in North America. 

Visiting this site left me with more questions than answers. First and foremost – in an age where ‘you must be a certified expert’ to voice an opinion, I wonder – what does ‘certification’ mean? I’ll suggest that it means you have been indoctrinated into the party-line of a field of study. This ‘indoctrination’ goes against the rules of the science and inquiry that I was taught, because it shuts down conversation rather than opening it up to new ideas and various perspectives.  Let’s examine the (current) prevailing theory (??) regarding Cahokia. 

‘Cahokia has deep religious significance to native cultures.’ This statement is made with no supporting proof. We’ll presume some contemporary person with indigenous roots has made this claim. I accept oral history; but, I’d like to see it cited.  Some people are buried here – presumably high stature leaders or priests. No evidence found of permanent living quarters around the mounds. 

‘comparable to the cathedrals of medieval Europe..’ ok – we know cathedrals served two purposes – provide spiritual tourist attractions for pilgrims to get at some of their travel money. Which came first – the travel or the cathedral?  The diversity of the materials used to create the ‘intricate, religiously significant art…..’ maybe the proprietors wanted to sell high quality goods to the tourists – Epcot?    

‘Trappist French Monks built a church on top the mound to …… assimilate native beliefs into Catholic culture’, ……. or did they just like the view, or the cool breeze afforded by getting off the hot lowland, or maybe the wind up top kept the bugs away?

‘Two mile long palisades enclosed the Holy Ceremonial Site, though no evidence has been found that it was attacked or defended’……..sounds like crowd control and timed entry to me. Gotta pay to get in, you just can’t walk up the mound.  Go to Mount Hope Estate and Winery Renaissance Faire for a model.  They have a fence that has never been attacked or defended.

‘Centuries of modification to the bastions along the fence indicate development of more precise measurement systems’……… or maybe they got tired of sagging palisade walls and determined that putting bastions (pillars) a bit closer together made stronger walls – like many a journeyman mason learns during his apprenticeship with block and brick. Long walls need braced with pillars here and there. 

Where is a discussion regarding the similarity, discounting available local materials, between these mounds and Aztec, Mayan, and Incan structures? We allow that trade systems brought small, light materials form these regions – how about IDEAS?

These questions and more may have been answered if the museum were open – but alas, it was closed for renovation like so many other National Park Service facilities we’ve tried to visit. 

Monks Mound – view west – St Louis Arch – Gateway to the West in distance

Monks Mound – view south – of another of the many mounds in the area

 

I think of dinosaurs that were just ‘big lizards’, until Robert Bakker came along and postulated that they were BIG chickens. 

I remember the “Mongolian Princess’ with her religiously significant, highly ornamented, mirrors, that maybe, maybe they were just signal mirrors  – so you didn’t get lost on the steppe and you had a lot of them because if you didn’t have one, and couldn’t signal, you died. I guess THAT had religious significance. 

Coprolite, petrified poop, indicated that the pooper had eaten human flesh, as did the butcher marks and pot scrapes on shattered human bones found in the same area. ‘NO! NO! This is just another racial slur perpetuated by white men against indigenous people.’  ‘Fake poop’ in todays parlance.  

Religion seems to be the raison default for artifacts that are not obvious knives, plows, butter churns, shoes, etc.  I think it demonstrates limited imagination and limited discussion, or simplification for tourist who really don’t want much understanding, we just want a good story and then get on to the next BIG thing. Or just too many people regurgitating the party line making money off of books, teaching gigs, speaking tours, and Discovery channel movies. Wouldn’t want our reputation or ability to earn a living impacted by competing ideas. That’s NOT scientific!

Yes. Perhaps I am overly sensitive due to some of our modern (?) issues like – how are we going to define what constitutes a woman (human, breast, vagina has always worked for me) – If I can even use the term ‘woman’ without starting a shit storm of nasty slurs pointed my direction.  In the end, science has never been open and objective. It has always required people of exceptional courage to evolve the knowledge base in a more correct, consistent, logical, and perhaps accurate direction.  So in the end, your truth is real. Don’t worry if it’s grounded or not in reality. (sounds like Gonzalez definition of being lost, but we’ll let that go for another day)

“And on the eighth day, Wodin created Dreki to rule the wild rivers and the ragged spines of mountain tops. Go ye there at great peril to be initiated into their clan. Bring a stout heart, an indominable spirit, and gold.”

                                                                    — Creation (unknown)

 

Kaskaskia Dragon

EM has hurt her wrist. Painful for her to move it much less subject it to the rigors of biking 50 to 75 miles per day. We took a break day to rest it and hope that it heals very quickly. 

We took a leisurely drive through the back country so EM got a chance to experience the SAG lifestyle.  When she said, ‘Is this what you’ve been doing everyday?’ – I wasn’t offended. I’m having a wonderful time. Probably the first time in my life that I’m doing totally as I please, with only a bit of directed purpose. 

Be at the rendezvous site, have tasty treats, make something for dinner, procure the listed supplies, fill the water tanks, empty the poo, sweep the floor, fill the gas tank, check the oil, tire pressure, washer fluid, radiator fluid, wash the windows, sit and read, watch a movie, plot a course to the campsite, look for something interesting to blog about, think deep thoughts, think prurient thoughts, remember fun events, curse at some a-hole who barely got back into his lane without crashing headfirst into the van, check the battery charge, fold the bed, sweep the floor (again, it gets dirty a lot), brush my teeth, shower, dump the pee bottle, open the curtains, turn off the chargers, wash cloths, hang cloths to dry, think about dinner, read some more, journal a bit, work on the website, exercise, take a hike, smoke a cigar, have some whiskey, put dry cloths away, talk to some passerby, curse the GPS, play some music, wave at folks I don’t know, draw some pictures, scratch a bug bite, make reservations, visit an attraction……. that’s about how the day goes. 

Hope she feels better tomorrow, or the next  day, so she can get on with the biking. I enjoy our days together. I enjoy our days apart knowing she is doing what she loves, and I can just…….. be. 

Love you, babe!  : )