Day 24 - Entering Kansas, Prayer Center of the American Universe (Updated)
Although most of Day 24, which was Thursday June 4th for a little extra perspective, was spent riding the gentle rolling hills of western Missouri, the end of the day in Kansas was the most significant.
Breakfast at Tom and Gail's was brief. Gail has to be at the library at 8. Tom, who is semi-retired, i believe, works for the water company, so he gets to ease into the day a little more. i made tea and some oatmeal which i had bought the night before. i have realized the key to a satisfied oatmeal customer. i eat oatmeal at home, sometimes almost daily, and i never finish it. why do you eat it then?, you might ask. well, i guess it's because it's healthly. at home i make it pretty plain, 2 minutes in the microwave, with a speck of maple syrup, 7 raisins (i'm not kidding - it's turned out to be a little mini-OCD habit i've developed), and a splash of plain rice milk. Slightly appetizing. The key to a satisfied oatmeal customer, me as the customer, is instant Quaker - i'll eat any and all of the kinds kids will eat. Have you tried "cinnamon roll"? Deeelicious! i'm sure by the time i get back and i'm healthly again, i'll be scraping 35% of it into the trash.
So i ate the oatmeal and a banana i scored from the store as well and bid goodbye. Paul was headed to Golden City MO, 20 miles short of my destination, so we also parted. And i was headed to Pittsburg, Kansas, about 105 miles away from Fair Grove. I've been excited to cross every state line but there was something meaningful about Kansas that i hadn't felt since leaving Virginia and getting to Kentucky. But different. i was excited about kentucky because it was the first "real" crossing i'd made (Maryland into DC and DC into Virginia all happened within an hour or so after leaving Nat/Larry/Allison's), because it was a state that i'd never been to, not even to drive through, and because i knew it would be somewhat of a culture shock.
Kansas i was excited about because everybody else was dreading it. All the other riders: "Oh, kansas is gonna suck," "At least it's flat, "Just endless cornfields," "i'm gonna blow through it or blow my head off, one of the two." And by and large the Kansas comments i received on facebook were about the Wizard of Oz, cow shit and generally don't-wanna-be-in-your-shoes.
I was resigned to like Kansas, where creationism thrives. Unless you're a late-term abortion doctor, how bad of a place could it be? (btw i was confronted almost immediately upon crossing the state line by one in a series of homemade-seeming signs which express one of several pleas, including "pray to end abortion" and "let this baby meet its mother"). Well, let me tell you that kansas does not disappoint. i arrived at the end of a good-weather riding day (coolish and cloudy). it was difficult to get a decent picture of the "welcome" sign because the sun, blindingly bright behind the clouds, was backlighting it. The iphone camera is of no particular help, and the good camera, which is turning me, a very bad photographer, into a reasonable documentarian of my trip, ran out of batteries at that moment.
After a few miles into Kansas, i arrived at Pittsburg. It was Thursday evening, as i said, and the town was alive. I don't know if i can properly explain it but, despite a lot of empty storefronts on the main drag, this community is that stereotype of the decent, pleasant, family-oriented, American town. I'm sure a lot of bad things happen in Pittsburg, but i didn't witness any.
A lot of the Kansas towns on the route allow cyclists to camp in their city parks for free. You just check in with park staff or the police if it's after hours. Pittsburg also has a city pool, and they let you take a shower there, which i did. It was cold but necessary. After donning my gray shorts, which have morphed into a raggy loincloth at this point, and one of my two clean but wrinkled t-shirts , i asked the Erin Meek teenage doppelganger where i could eat. i was sent to Jim's steak house. i know i was supposed to be praying to end abortion, but what i was praying for is that jim had the sense to have a salad bar, or to serve some sort of vegetable. Unfortunately this was not the case. Mallorree, my cute waitress, knew the question was coming as soon as i started to ask. i'm glad i'm not the only person that thinks that Jim should start serving something green (even canned beans) in addition to many varieties of potatoes, cottage cheese, and applesauce to accompany your meat. i had grilled chicken breast (we're out of the automatic fried chicken part of the country), a baked potato (which is almost a daily occurrence now) and a "garden" salad where the only vegetable grown in that garden is iceberg lettuce (also a daily occurrence). Still, anything with ranch dresing is edible.
I went back to the park to set up camp and as i was doing so i was approached by the first of many affable, relaxed Kansans, a man named Jeff who was from Pittsburg but currently lives just over the border in Arkansas, up in Pittburg to care for his ailing mom. Jeff, also an avid cyclist, has been taking a break from over-working due to some health conditions which he described as a wake-up call. He was very interested in what made me choose to ride across the country. I told him that my original idea was to do it last year to celebrate turning 40 in October and that at the time i was excited to do it during the heat of the election. i realize now, and i shared this with Jeff, how utterly relieved i am that i didn't do the the trek during election year. i imagine that i might have gotten into some awkward, perhaps confrontational, conversations, me bringing up politics with total strangers in the middle of Republicanland. i think i really dodged a divisive bullet. Before he left me to my site-setting, Jeff queried: "Can i ask you a personal question?" Of course he could. i couldn't imagine what it would be. "Can i pray for you?" For a split second, i wanted to protest, to say "no, that wouldn't work on me, because i'm a heathen" or whatever. Or just "no, that's foreign territory." But of course i said "sure." Jeff put his hand on me and began a prayer asking God for my safety from errant drivers and bad weather, asking Him to protect me and bring me home to LA, asking that i postively impact the people i encounter and vice-versa.
I have to say it was one of the most comforting and supportive moments i've had on this trip, to have this complete stranger put his hand on my shoulder and pray that i'm safe. Like you all know, i'm not a believer for many reasons. i was not raised in a religious household where god was ever mentioned, so there's that. i believe that often our country is held hostage by invective-spouting zealots who preach intolerance against those who are not like them. i know historically that religion is the number one reason why wars have been fought, more people have been brutally murdered in the name of god than we can even fathom. But this moment, this intimate moment between me and this man, really affected me, and i feel lucky to have experienced it.
Breakfast at Tom and Gail's was brief. Gail has to be at the library at 8. Tom, who is semi-retired, i believe, works for the water company, so he gets to ease into the day a little more. i made tea and some oatmeal which i had bought the night before. i have realized the key to a satisfied oatmeal customer. i eat oatmeal at home, sometimes almost daily, and i never finish it. why do you eat it then?, you might ask. well, i guess it's because it's healthly. at home i make it pretty plain, 2 minutes in the microwave, with a speck of maple syrup, 7 raisins (i'm not kidding - it's turned out to be a little mini-OCD habit i've developed), and a splash of plain rice milk. Slightly appetizing. The key to a satisfied oatmeal customer, me as the customer, is instant Quaker - i'll eat any and all of the kinds kids will eat. Have you tried "cinnamon roll"? Deeelicious! i'm sure by the time i get back and i'm healthly again, i'll be scraping 35% of it into the trash.
So i ate the oatmeal and a banana i scored from the store as well and bid goodbye. Paul was headed to Golden City MO, 20 miles short of my destination, so we also parted. And i was headed to Pittsburg, Kansas, about 105 miles away from Fair Grove. I've been excited to cross every state line but there was something meaningful about Kansas that i hadn't felt since leaving Virginia and getting to Kentucky. But different. i was excited about kentucky because it was the first "real" crossing i'd made (Maryland into DC and DC into Virginia all happened within an hour or so after leaving Nat/Larry/Allison's), because it was a state that i'd never been to, not even to drive through, and because i knew it would be somewhat of a culture shock.
Kansas i was excited about because everybody else was dreading it. All the other riders: "Oh, kansas is gonna suck," "At least it's flat, "Just endless cornfields," "i'm gonna blow through it or blow my head off, one of the two." And by and large the Kansas comments i received on facebook were about the Wizard of Oz, cow shit and generally don't-wanna-be-in-your-shoes.
I was resigned to like Kansas, where creationism thrives. Unless you're a late-term abortion doctor, how bad of a place could it be? (btw i was confronted almost immediately upon crossing the state line by one in a series of homemade-seeming signs which express one of several pleas, including "pray to end abortion" and "let this baby meet its mother"). Well, let me tell you that kansas does not disappoint. i arrived at the end of a good-weather riding day (coolish and cloudy). it was difficult to get a decent picture of the "welcome" sign because the sun, blindingly bright behind the clouds, was backlighting it. The iphone camera is of no particular help, and the good camera, which is turning me, a very bad photographer, into a reasonable documentarian of my trip, ran out of batteries at that moment.
After a few miles into Kansas, i arrived at Pittsburg. It was Thursday evening, as i said, and the town was alive. I don't know if i can properly explain it but, despite a lot of empty storefronts on the main drag, this community is that stereotype of the decent, pleasant, family-oriented, American town. I'm sure a lot of bad things happen in Pittsburg, but i didn't witness any.
A lot of the Kansas towns on the route allow cyclists to camp in their city parks for free. You just check in with park staff or the police if it's after hours. Pittsburg also has a city pool, and they let you take a shower there, which i did. It was cold but necessary. After donning my gray shorts, which have morphed into a raggy loincloth at this point, and one of my two clean but wrinkled t-shirts , i asked the Erin Meek teenage doppelganger where i could eat. i was sent to Jim's steak house. i know i was supposed to be praying to end abortion, but what i was praying for is that jim had the sense to have a salad bar, or to serve some sort of vegetable. Unfortunately this was not the case. Mallorree, my cute waitress, knew the question was coming as soon as i started to ask. i'm glad i'm not the only person that thinks that Jim should start serving something green (even canned beans) in addition to many varieties of potatoes, cottage cheese, and applesauce to accompany your meat. i had grilled chicken breast (we're out of the automatic fried chicken part of the country), a baked potato (which is almost a daily occurrence now) and a "garden" salad where the only vegetable grown in that garden is iceberg lettuce (also a daily occurrence). Still, anything with ranch dresing is edible.
I went back to the park to set up camp and as i was doing so i was approached by the first of many affable, relaxed Kansans, a man named Jeff who was from Pittsburg but currently lives just over the border in Arkansas, up in Pittburg to care for his ailing mom. Jeff, also an avid cyclist, has been taking a break from over-working due to some health conditions which he described as a wake-up call. He was very interested in what made me choose to ride across the country. I told him that my original idea was to do it last year to celebrate turning 40 in October and that at the time i was excited to do it during the heat of the election. i realize now, and i shared this with Jeff, how utterly relieved i am that i didn't do the the trek during election year. i imagine that i might have gotten into some awkward, perhaps confrontational, conversations, me bringing up politics with total strangers in the middle of Republicanland. i think i really dodged a divisive bullet. Before he left me to my site-setting, Jeff queried: "Can i ask you a personal question?" Of course he could. i couldn't imagine what it would be. "Can i pray for you?" For a split second, i wanted to protest, to say "no, that wouldn't work on me, because i'm a heathen" or whatever. Or just "no, that's foreign territory." But of course i said "sure." Jeff put his hand on me and began a prayer asking God for my safety from errant drivers and bad weather, asking Him to protect me and bring me home to LA, asking that i postively impact the people i encounter and vice-versa.
I have to say it was one of the most comforting and supportive moments i've had on this trip, to have this complete stranger put his hand on my shoulder and pray that i'm safe. Like you all know, i'm not a believer for many reasons. i was not raised in a religious household where god was ever mentioned, so there's that. i believe that often our country is held hostage by invective-spouting zealots who preach intolerance against those who are not like them. i know historically that religion is the number one reason why wars have been fought, more people have been brutally murdered in the name of god than we can even fathom. But this moment, this intimate moment between me and this man, really affected me, and i feel lucky to have experienced it.
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