July 7, 2001--Topeka, KS.

I must apologize for not having pictures with my entry today. We did a century today and the goal was to get in as soon as possible to get out of the heat. The straight shot from Abilene to Topeka is Route 70. However whenever possible we try to stay on back roads, which we did today. They are safer and more scenic.
Four of us rode together today and exchanged funny stories while peddling away in the back country of Kansas. (which really is most of Kansas...) The heat began to come into full effect at about 10:30. The wind from the side was not much of a relief because it carried with it pockets of even warmer air that would hit us hard and pull energy out of us.
The landscape was different than it has been. There was a constant roll to the road, and there were several man-made ponds in pastures for cows to drink from. All the eye could see was green. Today there were less farmlands and more open space that was uncultivated. Trees lined many open fields and streams ran through many of the densely forested areas. There was a constant buzz of insects in the underbrush and though no bugs were visible, they let their presence be known to each other and anybody passing on the road. Several large grasshoppers were on the road today as we rode by.
Kansas is very rural. We were 5 miles from our destination in Topeka and were still riding through cornfields. We knew that the scenery had to change soon but it really showed no signs of doing so till the last second. The rolling hills continued how they had all day till we climbed the last hill and the road immediately became four lanes wide and businesses became prominent rather than farms and fields of wheat. The later the day got, the more unbearable the heat became. As we rode into town at 1:13 the temperature was 104. Anybody who has worked in those conditions knows that the heat can suck the life right out of the individual. For some reason last night I didn't sleep well at all. I kept waking up every hour. This morning when I got up I knew I wasn't feeling my best. By time I got to the hotel I was completely exhausted. I apologize for the lack luster writing style today, but I can barely keep my eyes open.

July 6, 2001--Abilene, KS.

Today was a beautiful morning in the heartland of Kansas. We shoved off at about 7:00 and headed north to Abilene. Since Kansas is the land of the south wind, today we had it made. Due to the previous day's rain, the air was hot and humid. A few of the riders went to the local Wall-Mart last night and got squirt guns for the ride. Five of us formed a pace line and left late. We sped past other riders dousing them with water. The initial shock was what we were after, but in all reality the water was much appreciated by every rider we passed. John drew his weapon and shot a passing couple on a Harley Davidson, luckily they laughed. I am afraid however that we have started a war amongst the cycling crew.
The ride today took us farther into rural Kansas. We traveled on a two-lane highway with no shoulder that rolled continuously though fields lined with trees and flowing farm country. The first thirty miles felt more like an Italian style bicycle race. With the tail wind our average speed through the country was about 28mph. We often reached speeds of 32 and held them for periods of time. Traffic was light and accommodating. Cars wouldn't pass very often. The road we were on was not well traveled.
At around the 30-mile marker we came upon the official halfway point of the trip in terms of miles. There was a large monument spray painted on the roadway that read "Congratulations Cross Country Riders, You're halfway there!" We stopped and took a look. The air was quiet and there was a sense of awe. We had a friend climb on the SAG van and take a picture of us. (I am the second rider from the left) I figured that the first picture didn't really show what I looked like halfway though so I took a closer picture so I could remember.
At the first SAG stop John was taunting Anna, a Swedish girl that was riding with us. He was mocking her and making moronic comments about Switzerland. She took the remainder of the water in her bottle and dumped it in his direction. As the water flew through the air he jumped out of the way and the water drenched me as I peacefully sat on a park bench. The whole sequence of events was quite funny but I told her that retribution knows no gender partiality.
The rest of the ride Andy and I rode together and were in no particular hurry. The country was lovely and we passed several large farmhouses that were shaded by groups of trees. The descriptions of these places may seem similar, and in a very real sense they are. But each different place we ride through has a different texture, and a different feeling. The rides of a few days ago had the feeling of big business. On today's ride the feeling to me was more rural and much more peaceful. Certainly harvesting these fields is hard work, but there seemed to be a more serene atmosphere that permeated the smaller fields and lush vibrant trees surrounding the farmhouses.
We rode into the town of Abilene and went strait to the Eisenhower home and museum. The home where Dwight Eisenhower and his five brothers grew up still stands in the middle of a park in Abilene Kansas and is open to the public. I was lucky enough to tour it. An older lady gave us a brief verbal history of the home and its rooms as we walked around inside it. Everything in the house is original. Next to the home there was the Eisenhower library and the Eisenhower museum. We spent some time in the museum but eventually got so cold that we had to leave. I have found out here that the people compensate for the heat by cooling the buildings far below a comfortable level. The impact of going from 100F heat to an over air-conditioned building is a shock to the system. The last thing I need right now is sickness. I wish I could have spent more time in the museum though. This is a picture of me in front of the Dwight Eisenhower home.
At this time I have passed much of the most difficult terrain I have to cross. Though the rest will in no way be a breeze. I enjoy life on the road. I feel accustomed to it after so many years in Drum Corps. Accomplishing goals should be a way of life.

July 5, 2001--McPherson, KS.

While lugging my bags out to the truck this morning I was unpleasantly surprised to step out the door of the hotel and discover a heavy cloud cover accompanied by wet pavement. Before I loaded my bag on the truck I made sure I retrieved my rain jacket. After eating breakfast I shoved off from the hotel. The air was warm but moist. Though the pavement was wet, the raindrops were sparse and very thin. The clouds actually made for a nice break in the weather. Rather than the incessant heat we had experienced throughout Kansas so far, the thick blanket of clouds shaded the sun and decreased temperatures making the ride today quite delightful. The wetness of the air moistened my jersey and the light crosswind cooled my body down.
The deeper into Kansas I get, the more beautiful the landscape becomes. Rather than the pungent smell of feed-yards, rural Kansas is striking in its expansive fields of golden grain and its colors that spread as far as the skyline. The cloud cover today created an iridescent glow with the fields of green. The brilliance of the emerald fields contrasted by the darkness of far off storm clouds overwhelmed me with its photo quality elegance.
I rode part of the morning with my friends John and Andy. John is a monster of a rider with a very humorous arrogance about him. We passed though a small town where a couple of teenagers in a small four-door wagon pulled up next to us at a stoplight. Just as the light was about to turn green one of them said "Why don't you get a job and buy a car?!" The car took off up the road and John with his monster legs took off after it. Amazingly he caught up with it at the next light. He banged on the window and yelled, "My bike costs more than your car!"
The whole group met together at the town of Lyons where we were escorted to the town court house by a Lyons Police car. At the Court House the Mayor (pictured) himself came out to welcome us. Refreshments were served on the court house lawn and many prominent members of the community were present to welcome us to their town and wish us well in our travels. Later, those whom were interested could take a tour of the town grain elevator. I attended and was educated on the science of weighing and selling grain.
After the town of Lyons we departed and rode on to the small town of McPherson. On the way I rode alone and enjoyed the views. I passed a few farmers in large tractors moving slowly about their fields. I waved, and they always waved back. The speed of life in this part of the country is not as feverish as it is at home. People are not as rushed and overextended as they are in the Silicon Valley. I think I could take a lesson or two from them.

July 4, 2001--Great Bend, KS.

Today there was less traffic on the road. We traveled a different road that was more scenic. I saw more of what I expected to see out of Kansas. I got a taste of the more romantic Kansas that make post card quality scenes. The roads once again extended for miles but the fields were bright with the colors of harvest. To my right I passed fields of green corn stalks. The green leaves illuminated in the sunlight casting a bright green glow to the fields in the mid morning light. The road was surprisingly smooth. Electric poles lined the roadway, extended till they were the size of needles, and disappeared across the horizon line. Often the views would change, as the fields would transform color abruptly. One of these fields struck me as especially beautiful. It was a field of budding sunflowers. The golden yellow field was brilliant and extended for acres. On occasion a group of trees would stand together in the middle of a field. When I would ride closer, I would be able to make out the shape of a house within the trees.
Some of these fields were so beautiful I thought they would be great spots for creative wedding pictures. I began to think of my own wedding next June. My fiancé Sheri has been so supportive of my journey and has been so helpful. As I rode I thought about how much I missed her. Tomorrow I will be half way through with the trip. She will be meeting me at the end in New Hampshire.
A group of cyclists decided that they wanted to continue today's ride beyond Great Bend and do a double century. The days are hot out here and riding in the heat can do really bad things to the body. I wanted no part of it because as far as I am concerned there is no rush. I rode 85 miles today, and that's enough for me in the heat. The group got as far as Great Bend, and due to an unforgiving head wind, decided to forgo the double century plan. I am glad they decided not to do it. It is just too hot, and running out of water is a serious problem.
Tonight much of the group will be attending a fire works display at a local fairground.

July 3, 2001--Dodge City, KS.

Since the last two days were long and grueling we had a shorter day today. We rode from Garden City to Dodge City and that was about 50 miles. I rode with my friends Andy and John. We began from Garden City in the morning and the air was cool. We were hoping to beat the heat for once and get in before the sun beat us down. The riding was flat of course and the scenery held its firm flat background. I imagined what the land had been like over two hundred years ago with expansive herds of buffalo that often reached sizes of two miles long and twenty miles wide. The landscape now is much different. We passed fields of freshly cut hay bails rolled up in tightly bound circular spools sitting in no particular order in large farming tracks.
About every ten miles the wretched stench of the feed yards would permeate the air leaving no mistake as to the next feature of the landscape. The feed yards would stretch for acres as we rode parallel to them. Lazy looking cattle walked mindlessly about their small pens wagging their tails and often looking our way as we passed on the road. A few would eat from metal troughs while others stood in corners together. A sign on the road said "Scenic overlook, 1 mile." We were all interested in what this "scenic overlook" had to offer. After climbing a short hill the road widened and from the road all that could be seen were cattle in small pens. I took this picture from the "scenic overlook."
The three of us rolled into Dodge City and continued passed the hotel to the bike shop. The shop was only as big as a bedroom and was run by an old man whose trusty business partner was a longhaired orange cat that sat on a perch behind the cash register. After finding nothing of use in the bike shed we continued to the Boot Hill museum. The museum was well put together and showed much of the history of the old town. Dodge City was once the classic old west town where shootouts and murders were not uncommon. What I found most interesting were many of the misconceptions that still exist about the Native Americans. One blatant misinterpretation of the Native Americans in the museum was that they were tribes of warring peoples that were hostile and needed to be "dealt with." It was not until their lifestyle and land was threatened that they became openly hostile. The Government stopped at nothing to annihilate them, and in a very real way, was successful. Boot Hill got its name because so many people were shot in the old town as a result of disagreements and drunken brawls, that they were often buried in shallow graves with their boots still on. I fail to see where the people of the old west differ from their own description of the Native Americans and their "warring" and "hostile" ways.
We finished at the museum and went back to the hotel. The older lady behind the front counter was so rude that many cyclists were just sitting in the lobby observing her interactions and looking at each other with amused grins. Others said they had experienced a similar attitude from older individuals in other parts of Dodge City. The period of "Boot Hill" was only about 120 years ago. I wondered whether there was still a bit of the old west that had lasted through a few generations. Time can certainly do its healing, but it cannot erase the history of a certain group of people. Just because a specific time period ended does not mean the people within the time and place vanished with it. But then again, my sample size is very small. We will meet the mayor tonight at dinner. I hope he doesn't smack me in the face.

July 2, 2001--Garden City, KS.

Today was the second century in a row. The largest hurdle of the day was, once again, the wind. We started the ride and headed straight into Kansas. Andy and I decided to go our separate ways at the beginning of the day so I rode alone for most of the day. For as far as the eye could see the sun rose over pastures of grazing cattle, golden meadows of dry grass, and fields of corn stalks that would fold and rise again gently in the breeze. I passed a long gravel driveway with a large black cow that was walking toward the road. I stopped just to see what she would do. She stopped too, looking at me with a silent reproach. Rather than tempt my fate, I decided to leave her alone and continue.
The day soon grew to an intense heat that was carried though the air with the head wind. At the 40-mile marker I got my third flat tire of the trip. I changed it quickly and got back on my way.
Today there was a span of 45 miles without a SAG stop. As I rode alone I began to wilt in the heat. I ran out of water with 14 miles to the next SAG stop. I knew I could make it, but I was riding weak, and struggling in vain against the wind. I am usually very aware of where I am relative to other cyclists. I usually know who is in front of me, and whom is gaining on me. I was surprised however when Andy showed up right next to me and said: "How are you doing on water?" I told him, "I'm done dude." He could see that I was getting very dehydrated and gave me the rest of the water in his Camel Back. He said, "I could tell you were hurting by the way you were riding so I hurried and caught up to you." Nothing is finer than a friend that will help when you need it most. I was truly grateful to him.
While riding today I noticed that people on the road were very nice. We got several waves from passing motorists. I waved at a State Trooper that passed. His car lit up like a Christmas tree for a moment, and then blacked out again. It was exciting to know that we had those guys's on our side. The towns we passed through were very simple, and had old looking buildings and business titles like "Bud's Bar," and "Mechanic." Each town had a small cemetery, a few houses, a gas station, and on occasion, a stoplight. These small urban areas seemed to be stuck in a different time. I wondered what appeal they had to the people that lived within them. I am sure that there is a certain charm to living in a small community, but it is a charm I have never known.
At our last SAG stop an unlikely visitor came and talked to us. He was on a new road bike, dressed in his Lance Armstrong gear. He said that he was a State Trooper that lived in town. He said that there weren't many roads to ride out there but that many of the State Troopers in the area were road cyclists. He was ecstatic to see other cyclists in his area and offered good advice about abnormalities in road surfaces between where we were, and where we were going.

July 1, 2001--Lamar, CO.

Today's ride was a harsh welcome back from a day of rest. Yesterday a new father and son were added to the group. They said they were riding from Pueblo to Erie. The boy was very confident in himself, as many 15-year-olds are. We ate dinner together last night and he said he would like to ride with the "top group." I was the only representative of the "top group" at the table and told him he was welcome to ride with us. I knew he didn't really have any idea what he was asking to be a part of. In the last month we have become extremely strong as a group. I see myself as ten times the rider I was when I left home. But I could tell his undaunted optimism was so impenetrable that he would have to find out on his own.
We lined up in the morning and he was ready and he was raring to go. We started slow for the first 5 miles and then put the pedal to the metal. After the first 25 miles he was visibly struggling to even stay in the pace line. To make a long story short, he dropped out and I didn't see him for the rest of the day. I want to spend dinner with him just to give him some moral support. It can be difficult for a young cyclist to be dropped. Watching the group ride away from you can be disheartening. I think he might need some encouragement tonight.
I must say, we have left the picturesque Rockies. Today we rode though countless fields of green grass, cows, and cultivated land. I passed a five-foot snake that was lying on the road and sunning itself in the early morning hours. Later in the day I rode passed a small turtle that was about 6" in diameter. He was standing in the shoulder as if he had lost his train of thought. I think I might have confused him by riding past him so fast. Later in the ride I began to see several large tan colored grasshoppers that were about 3" long. The flat lands are filled with a plethora of insects. I could hear them as they made their little noises from the brush on the side of the road. The farmlands rolled for miles in all directions. I missed the mountains.
Around 10:30 the air began to get extremely hot. The water in my bottles was warm and though it hydrated me, it didn't do much to help cool me down. We hit the last SAG at the 100-mile marker and spent some times cooling down and getting some food. I thought that the last twenty-miles would be a breeze. However the last twenty miles were the hardest part of the day. The temperature was over 100 degrees and the wind was heading westward fast! The grassy fields were blowing hither and fro and forming fast moving waves that traveled toward us. We pressed on and were given no break from the unstoppable and incorrigible wind. As we got closer to town we passed flagpoles holding flags extended straight toward the west and held in a constant rigidity. When we reached the hotel the entire group was relieved. No century is easy; each has its own idiosyncrasy that makes it difficult. Today was the unrelenting wind that seemed to stomp in our faces toward the end of the trip.
I realized something about dreams at that point. Dreams are something that everybody can have. Having them takes no effort, and one can have them all his life without acting on them. Following that dream can be a reality that one never expected. Dreams can drive you when you feel dispirited and make your life happier just by thinking about them. However accomplishing them can make you question their worth in the process due to the level of personal sacrifice and difficulty. But if you think about it, there is more to our existence here than skating through life and not following our ambitions. Without personal sacrifice, fulfilling one's life desires will never take place. With the hot wind blowing in my face, I asked myself today how far I was willing to sacrifice myself to finish what I had started. At that point the wind didn't seem to be as strong anymore. The weight against me didn't seem to be so heavy. I thought about riding my bike around a corner and seeing the Atlantic Ocean. That moment I will covet until it is mine, and I have earned it. The larger the sacrifice, the more fulfilling the dream is in the end.