October 2008 Archives

After a beautiful few days with Julia's grammy, we set out on our first hills since Colorado. We biked 60 miles worth and were pretty beat as we rolled into Eureka Springs.  It happens to be a secret sanctuary tucked away in the Ozark Mountains. It is full of creative and intelligent people who have welcomed us with open arms. Our first night in town was spent with other tourists. They were also bikers, but of the motorized variety. We all stayed in a motel and they took us all out for a motorcycle ride. Rocky and Julia were fearless and went safely quite fast and had a tour of the surrouding area. I was less inclined to go so I cruised around town on foot and met a lovely 13 year old girl who I employed as my tourguide. Paige ended up showing all three of us girls the town highlights. Once the tour ended we decided to hang out at a cafe where a band was playing country folk. They were called Cletus Got Shot and did an amazing cover of the theme to Fresh Prince. As we sat we met a kid named Mark who took us in off the streets and let us stay with him. He is wonderful and has the coolest loft I have ever seen. It used to be an office building but has been cleared out and now has space everywhere. There are a couple of rooms but the best thing about it is all the space.

He invited us to a party that first night and we got to go on a hay ride. There was a giant bonfire and lovely people. We even met a guy who travelled up Trail Ridge on bicycle in 1953. The hay wagon was pulled by a tractor instead of horses, but in the dead of night I was glad to have the headlights. There was a vat of chili like I have never seen; I could have bathed in the pot if I wanted to.

Last night we were invited to an interpretive dance performance based off of the Mayan Calendar. It was perfomed by three women and was beautiful. The lights and costumes were creative and the women themselves were so gifted that the meaning just dripped off their bodies. The show was improvisational but they don't tell you until the end and I would never have guessed.

So, we have decided to stay in Eureka through Halloween. Since we have a warm friendly place to stay and people to celebrate with, we wanna party like it's 1999. This way too, we can have time to make killer costumes.

***This post is a little risque, read at your own discretion***

When Julia and I were first talking about this trip and what we wanted to do, we decided that we had to ride our bikes naked through Kansas. We figured that it would be desolate enough and warm enough and we just happened to be crazy enough to actually do it. Racquel was easy to convince. Kansas turned out to be cold and windy. Until we reached Elk Falls...

Elk Falls has a population of maybe seventeen people. There were two churches off the highway and a sign that pointed one way in the direction of the only cafe in town and the other way to the old iron bridge and waterfall. The waterfall was only two feet tall. We biked down the gravel road that led to the falls and found the bridge that was built in 1883. It was closed off to everything except pedestrian traffic. That suited us just fine so we parked our bikes and set off to take a nippy dip in the water. It was freezing but we still dunked in as much as we could. We all ended up taking our shirts off, I mean we were bathing after all. As we walked up to the bridge it was determined that today was the day to ride naked in Kansas. We grabbed our bikes, set up the camera, took off our clothes, posed, and shot. It took several tries to really get the effect we were going for. (By the way, I don't think you could laugh more than we three did as the photo shoot took place.) We had just put on pants and set down our bikes as a car pulled into the lot to scope out the bridge. Mind you, we still have no shirts on. All three of us dove into our tents with shrill screams emanating from our gasping throats between cackles. The poor couple waited a tick before they felt safe enough to venture onto the ole bridge. We came out scrambling into whatever clothing we had in our tents. They ended up being a lovely couple who were just out and about looking for the leaves that were beginning to change. We swapped crazy stories about our travels and they headed on their way. (They did give us a couple beers as they left...what champs!)

That night was incredible. We slept on the bridge and were able to look up and see the most amazing sky. We fell asleep to the sound of the waterfall flowing over the sandstone shelf and river rock. There were a few noises we heard in the middle of the night that seemed a little strange but we attributed them to the river. The next morning we awoke to find everything completely soaked. The condensation from sleeping above a river had taken its toll on our tents and sleeping bags, and we were forced to wait for it to dry. We decided to venture into town and eat at the only cafe. Up the gravel road we walked. The only commotion in town was coming from the Kingdom Hall. There were about eight people on the roof of the Hall tearing it apart. We asked where the cafe was and were told it was closed. Instead we were invited to eat breakfast with the Jehovah's Witnesses--in their Hall! They were tearing apart and rebuilding the roof in two days. They bombarded us so much propaganda and we put up with a lot of proselytising, but by golly, that congregation sure did make tasty treats. We ate the best pie, coffee cake, doughnuts, etc. They also told us that the funny noises we heard in the night were probably the cult that conducts rituals at the bridge. How comforting.

Naked biking on an old iron bridge home to a crazy cult and persistent Jehovah's Witnesses makes for an interesting two days.

(By the way Aunt Teri, we will send you the photo.) 

Last night we slept on a dairy farm. An owl perched itself in the tree above our heads knowing that he would wake us up before our alarm went off at 4:30am. There were coyotes calling each other back and forth all night anticipating the birth of the three calfs that are coming any minute. Racquel and I got out of bed at 5 and rushed over to the milking area. It was bone chilling cold. Chance, the farmer, showed us how to hook up the milking device to the udders and make sure that there is no bacteria. The girls get led in by groups and are separated by metal dividers. Then they get cleaned up and the milker gets attached. It takes about 20-30 minutes to milk a cow, and the milk goes into an aluminum tank. A truck will come pick it up every two-three days. By the way, cows are huge. We got to see some of the baby cows, and all of us received some cow kisses. They drewl a lot and poo everywhere. Rocky and I got pooed on while we watched the milking. It smelled great-like you would expect cow pies, or should I say cow splatter to smell.

We drank raw milk at breakfast. It was delicious. Anyone wanna go in on a cow?

Eastern Kansas is beautiful.

The wind on our way to Wichita made me want to cry. In fact, I think I may have. I played a game with myself called "try and ride the next 8 miles without dropping below 10 mph." The winds were approximately 30 mph in our faces. We rode for twenty miles before we through our hands in the air, cursed Linka (of Planeteer fame, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Planeteer), and stuck out our thumbs. Our first ride was brief, a mere 5 miles. Jerry brought us to the turn for Cheney Lake. Again we played the glorious thumb dance. Congressman Bill Light, from South West Kansas, came to our rescue with a big truck with an empty bed. Congressman Light told us all about Kansas politics and his work with the budget committee. He was a top notch guy and I would vote for him, breaking my party ties. He took us into Wichita and pointed out the sights. Now, we had prearranged to stay with some kids off couchsurfing, so we had an address of where we were set to stay that night. And Bill took us all the way to the front door. 

The journey to Kingman begins with homemade blueberry pancakes. We got outta Dodge, and headed past feed lots and meat packaging plants. Through acres of corn and milo, and multicolored cows giving us the stink eye, we pedaled on towards a farm outside of Pratt. The couple we stayed with were lovely and Butch was an actual farmer. He gave me the run down on how to farm, the politics and frankly, the gamble. I had no idea the extent that chance plays in successful farming. The government's subsidy is practically nothing compared to the cost of renting land, machinery, seeds, fertilizer, and the regular cost of running a household and eating three times a day. If I were to start a farm without the family heirlooms of equipment and land, I couldn't do it. I doubt I could even obtain a loan for the amount needed to get a start. In my naiveté, I thought all farmer's owned the land they farmed. Wrong. Butch said he has at least ten different landlords and all with different contractual obligations. I felt pangs of guilt for the griping I have done having only one landlord.

On the road, you become adapt at deciphering the smell of death. Skunks become a welcome respite from some of the decay that we encounter. Deer smell terrible. We haven't encountered too many since leaving the mountains, but we saw one yesterday. It was crazy. At first, I wasn't sure what it was, then I saw the rest of the deer. It's heart was about ten feet from it's body. Just the heart. How does that happen.

We also saw two turtles. The first one was so cute. he must have just been run over. His cracked shell was his only imperfection. The second was completely demolished. But who would have thought that we'd find turtles in the middle of Kansas?

Sadly, we also saw a kitten with it's face run over. There were kids all around and more kittens. It was eerie.

Other noteworthy kills have included, foxes of every color, one decapitated bunny-with the head not too far away, snakes, a badger, porcupine, a beaver, two rigormortus racoons next to each other, a pheasant, hawk, and the most suicidal bugs I have ever seen. Grasshoppers, crickets, locust, and beetles want to die, specifically, in our wheels.

Sorry, this post is not as pleasant as some, but it really brings you closer to what we experience everyday.

I can safely say that Kansas is indeed as flat as they say. It would be great riding except that we have faced headwinds everyday that we have been here and now it's raining. The wind is gale force and frighteningly fierce. But the people are nice. Kansans are welcoming and hospitable.

We are a bit stir crazy today, seeing as we are cooped up inside a house surrounded by the extending plains amidst the rain. It is hard to remember what a forest looks and smells like. I am not meant to live so far from mountains.

I did go to a Baptist church this Sunday. The church paid to put us up in the town's one motel so I thought it only right that one of us should go. It turned out to be Western-Family Sunday. Everyone was in full Western regalia, spurs and all. There were 5 horses for the kids to ride and a huge BBQ. People were very nice, but I felt weird being a single 26-yr-old woman. All the girls my age had three kids-literally. The sermon was nothing new and I opted out of being born again. The high school boy's rock band was awesome. The whole experience was quite wholesome. I don't feel compelled to return, but I did have a nice time. I was also adopted by a 6-yr-old girl who clung to me and made sure I received the best tour possible and met everyone worth knowing at the church. It really did remind me of every small town church I have been to: hymnals, big hair, and in closing, "all god's people said..." "amen."