...and rode this...
I have to say, this was a pretty eventful trip for having little in the way of scenery. As above, I saw lots of corn and lots of soy. I was joking above. I saw a little of the Mississippi river; but, most of it was gorgeous farmers crops.
So, on day one, the plan was to get to Mankato, Mn and then run over to Sioux Falls Sd and drop down into Kansas from there. I stopped in Mankato, only to realize there was a really nice route that would take me as far south into Kansas as I wanted to travel. Bingo. That's the road. It's not interstate and looked promising; although, dreadfully straight. Corn, corn, corn. More corn. If you've seen one square mile of corn...never mind, you should see it all so you can really appreciate how much corn we consume. It's amazing.
At about 7pm, I found myself somewhere between Leavenworth and Topeka Kansas. Going to my trusty GPS for lodging opportunities (hopefully camping), I found one place that said "Camping" - no other description. Since camping is what I sought, I told the GPS to take me there. 3 minutes into the journey, GPS commands a left turn...down a loose gravel road. It was pea sized gravel with a firm foundation. It wasn't problematic; but, deserved full concentration as there were ruts from cars, etc. Any of those ruts could steer me into a skid. While dealing with gravel and the sun in my eyes, I got another surprise...
Arriving at "camp," I come to find out that I'm at a boyscout camp and can't pitch a tent there. This is bad since I just rode 5 miles of gravel road and didn't really want to go back. Luck would have it that the ranger pointed to a camp only mile and a half from where I was at and only about 500 feet of it was unpaved. This was the Lake Perry campground, and it was being attended by an older married couple. It was clear that they were both born on a Tuesday and by Friday, they were married. Her hearing was worse then his; but, she clearly heard him say "Just wait a minute while I have a look at that motor sickle." We talked for a few minutes and they directed me to my campsite and asked me to return to pay if it was good enough. It was fine. Plot of land, check. Electricity, a bonus. $16. No problem. May asked where I was from and quipped that she could tell I wasn't from "these parts." Jim said he was impressed that I was "geared up proper, unlike the other bikers here." So, I pull in. My BMW in the middle of a bunch of Harley trikes and motorcycles. There wasn't another type of motorcycle to be found. No matter. I just wanted to pitch my tent before dark, which I managed to do. Electricity was good; but, cell service was non-existent, so no Internet. :-( No matter, I was pretty tired and my eyes were dried out, so by 10pm, I was ready for bed. There was some kind of music playing at the camp ground and some guy running his pickup truck around with hay bails on a trailer offering kids a ride. After awhile though, the camp got pretty quiet, except the music lightly playing in the distance. Well, about midgnight, all the rednecks came home to continue the party. They thought it would be a good idea to carry on for the next hour. It kept me up for a little while; but, I went to sleep pretty quick. It was hot and muggy. The tent fly needed to stay open most of the night and I didn't need the sleeping bag for but half an hour in the wee hours of the morning.
When I got up, I packed everything and was on my way. I do wish there were a faster way to break camp; but, to put all that stuff on a motorcycle takes some effort. Maybe I need to bring less. Maybe that's the topic of another post.
So, come morning, I saw the same caretakers that checked me in. I asked them where to go for breakfast and they were torn between the church and the firehouse. They decided the church was best, so off to the church I went. I picked up some cash so I could make a donation. I should have known, biscuits and gravy was being served. Nothing against biscuits and gravy; but, that's not a descent breakfast. Of course, I stuck out like a sore thumb. Well dressed church going folk and one hammered looking biker. They were very welcoming and promptly brought me breakfast. Mostly, they were talking about a gimp cow that they didn't expect to fetch much at market; but, actually brought in more than they expected. While I was eating, another older man came in, ordered his breakfast and sat down next to me. He asked about my motorcycle and started to tell me about his 90 something sporty. Listening at times like these is important. I could see that he really missed riding. He said he really wasn't strong enough to hold the bike up and was thinking about a trike. I suggested that if money was holding him back, he should try a conversion. He continued and told me about days when he used to ride a lot. He'd never gone far from the area; but, loved it just the same. A tear welled up in his eye as he spoke. He said he took his wife once and before they got far, she just jumped off and never got back on. I'm hoping this guy gets his trike or conversion. He certainly has the spirit.
I left there thinking about this old farmer and how lucky I was. I was at least 600 miles from my starting point and 28,000 miles into a a fantastic journey. I thought about how I'd just keep going if I didn't have to go to a job on Monday. Looking down at the GPS, I could see the boarder of Oklahoma ahead; how far, I didn't know; but, I really wanted to go there. I didn't have a reason to go to Oklahoma; but, thought it would be pretty neat to go that far. I stopped in Moran Kansas. I needed gas. While checking the map, I found that Oklahoma was 2+ hours out. That would mean adding another 4 or 5 hours to my riding, and would put riding up the Mississippi at risk. It also happened that the cross road - Rt. 54 would take me all the way to the Northeast corner of Missouri and put me on the Mississippi. Knowing I'd regret it, I turned East. I thought about it constantly for several miles. I knew that I was being a slave to the system; but, I also knew I had to make money to continue my travels. Life isn't free.
After awhile, I was running out of water and wanted to get a bite to eat. I knew I didn't really want McDonalds; but, towns were fairly far apart and non-chain restaurants even sparser. As I was walking in, I could see this guy watching me. He had the "I want to talk" look in his eye. As i hit the door, I could see that he was hiking and had a pack sitting at the table. He introduced himself as Noah and asked me where I was going to / coming from. I told him about my last year of travels and he exclaimed "I knew it!" He said he could tell by my bike, maps and gear that I was serious about my journey. I had the look. I asked him about his hiking and he said that he started in Delaware and was hiking to San Francisco. If he made it, he'd be the 77th person to do it in modern times. I gave him my card and asked him to find me on FB so I could follow his travels. For miles after I left, all I could think about was how this guy is walking across the US with a 32# backpack, and I'm doing it on a world class motorcycle, with GPS, tracking, cameras, computers, and so much more. I felt really humble, and still do. I've got nothing on Noah.
Everything was pretty uneventful until I got to Mexico Missouri. I had just pulled out of a gas station, when I saw this:
Well, I had to pull over and get the pictures. The lawn artist happened to be mowing his lawn and gave me the full rundown on how it all started and how folks have been dropping off their toilets for years. He said they're all respectful and call first. He's looking for a black toilet now. He said he as pretty much every other color.
The rest of my trip was really uneventful. I saw some of the Mississippi, and, as usual, got to experience a little rain. It wasn't much, and I was expecting much more.
So, it's time to share my map to date:
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