The Longest Day
My plan for Sunday was to ride 58 miles to the town of Tribune, Kansas, but that changed as the day progressed. As I started out at 9:00 there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the wind was already with me.
I had read about how this stretch of road offered the possibility of seeing turtles trying to cross the pavement, sometimes unsuccessfully. Eight miles in I rode up on one just sitting in the middle of the lane. They are small enough to pick up with one hand and I took him to the side and then further into the brush. He didn’t seem happy about being picked up, but at least he started moving in the right direction rather than back to the road.
A little further on I approached a turn off for the Sand Creek Massacre site. It was eight miles up and back on gravel, sixteen total, and even though I wanted to see the area, I had by now set my mind on a long day so I didn’t go. This trip has has given me a better perspective on what the Native Americans had to go through. In short, Sand Creek is where a group of the Cheyenne tribe had camped in 1864, under a guarantee of protection by the US Army. However, one idiot (to put it mildly) colonel named John Chivington led his troops in a slaughter (and that’s putting it mildly, from what I’ve read), of old men, women and children. The site was first labeled a “battleground” but then was changed to the more appropriate word of massacre.
Shortly after, I arrived at the border of Kansas and celebrated by having lunch. By the time I got to Tribune it was just after 1:00. I had done 58 miles and knew that if I put in another 46 I would reach Scott City and would have the first 100 mile day of the trip. The riding wasn’t requiring much effort so I decided to continue on.
My first impression of Kansas was that the towns and the people were very nice. Tribune looked good and the people at the convenience store were friendly. Further up the road, the town of Leoti was quiet and seemed like a good place to stay. Also, many of the drivers coming the other way would wave as they passed by.
I then passed from the mountain time zone into the central time zone, which was another reminder that I’m making progress to Virginia. By now I was getting close to Scott City and it wasn’t that difficult to finish out the ride. I told myself I would further celebrate the border crossing and the first, and maybe only, 100 mile day by getting a motel room and watching football. (The celebration was short lived as my team, Tampa, was trampled 40-7.) I ended the day at 104.25 miles, but in reality it was much easier than some of the 40 or 50 mile days I’ve done.
In finishing at seven hours, my average for the day, including time off the bike, was just under 15 mph. This was easily the highest of the trip. The scenery on the flats may not be that great, but it’s nice for a change not having to ride up mountain passes for hours at a time at speeds only slightly better than walking.