Day 10: Watonga to Buffalo Day 12: Dodge City to Syracuse 

Day 11: Buffalo, OK to Dodge City, KS

June 17, 2005

 

After that grueling torture session I wasn't too keen on getting back on the bike. And frankly, my body wasn't too happy with me. Mike and the gang from the church made us breakfast over at one of the other local churches. Fantastic biscuits and gravy, with eggs and fruit. So delicious. For most of my life I've eaten cereal in the morning and been happy. But now, oh baby what a difference. Quite filling.

With the breakfast we got a late start, but it was quite chilly outside when we woke up, so I think some of the riders were a happy that we let the sun come up a little bit. Since there was a state line coming up, most of us were a little excited to get on the bike and race for the line. Well, by some of us I mean other people. I was totally drained from yesterday and could feel some relapse hitting me. Still, the border was only 12 miles or so away so not too much effort would be needed to make it to the first stop.

Headed out and watched as Sam, Chris and Brian shot out like bullets down the road. Also watched as the same three people missed the turn and headed straight down the wrong road. Pretty funny, actually. They were going so fast that they didn't hear people shouting at them. And the cars were behind us by a few minutes so they couldn't chase them. The rest of us calmly took the turn and head out in small groups.

Immediately hit some big hills. One of those hills was about three miles long. No good for me, but kept pushing anyways. I passed the biggest feed lot for cows in the county at the very top of the hill. The smell can get pretty strong sometimes. In fact, at one point one of the locals asked me if I could smell the scent in the air. I laughed and he asked me if I knew what it was. I told him I thought it was a mixture of the cow and pig farms. He smiled and told me that it was the smell of money. He said that where some people are turned off by the smell, the local farmers get excited. Said that the stronger the smell, the more money to be made.

From the hill top it wasn't too far to the border. With the missed turn by the sprinters I cruised into seventh place. Not too bad since I was looking for a top 15 finish in my condition. Took some pictures, laughed and such. It's surprising to me how relatively quickly we got through Oklahoma. I have some great memories of the state having seen some great country and met some wonderful folks.

By coincidence, a military jet flew over us at low altitude as we were at the border. Even though we knew it wasn't for us it was still exciting. With the border crossing and the jet and a good breakfast under my belt I was feeling a good deal better than I had been. Not great, but better. After the pictures I went to get some more water and in the meantime everybody took off. It was just me all the way in the back. And then the wind picked up.

I couldn't get going. Normally I'm somewhere in the front of the pack, but today I couldn't catch the slowest riders. I pushed and pushed and pushed, but the wind pushed back and the hills kept climbing. Struggled on, vowing to fight on. Caught Christy at the junction, but no sooner than I arrived she took off. She said I scared her since she's usually so far behind everybody else that she never expected to see someone behind her.

So I took off down the highway and took my time doing it. Since the state line was 12 miles from the start the rest stop was going to be 20 miles past that. The new highway we took from the junction ran directly west and we were warned that it was going to be hilly, but that the good news was that it was half downhill. Pretty funny I thought. And really, sometimes hills are better than flats.

When you have a big hill ahead of you, you have a goal. You push and work and climb and it doesn't feel too bad if you're smart about your gears. Then you get to the top and you coast on down, relaxing a little bit, enjoying the scenery and such. And then you start climbing again. It's like a little work-reward cycle and it breaks up the route into small chunks.

But if there's a head wind, it's another story. Then you work and work and make it to the top, and then you have to work to get down the hill. Sounds odd, but out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to block the wind, it can get pretty fierce. So you have to pedal to make it downhill without falling over. And that is no good.

But I managed to get to the first rest stop anyways. It was in a nice little park in a small town and I was glad to see that some of the team was still lingering. I thought I was so far in last place that I wouldn't see anybody for the rest of the day. But the wind is no respecter of persons and it had been taking its toll on everybody. Ate a couple of sandwiches and downed a Snickers bar and just relaxed a little bit. Ironically, when you're not moving forward the wind doesn't feel too strong. Seems like a friendly, gentle breeze.

While I was sitting down I could feel the lingering cold I had been fighting make a strong comeback. But I'm a pretty stubborn person and I vowed I would not ride the van before I had ridden 40 miles, no matter how bad I felt. So I got back on the bike and this time I was able to ride with people, which makes a big difference.

When you're riding by yourself it's just you and your thoughts. If you're in a good positive mood and you're flying along this is quite enjoyable. When you're sick, and weak and fighting hills and wind this is a bad thing. Even when I'm telling myself to stay positive every so often a negative thought creeps up. This usually happens when my brain takes a status check of all the different parts of the body. At some point it comes to the saddle or the knees or the legs. And it realizes that it hurts or that the part is tired. And of course, the natural reaction is to stop doing what it is that is causing the discomfort. But you have to fight it and you get this little debate going between the natural reaction and the higher philosophizing parts of the brain. And the natural man is strong indeed. Even if the higher ideals continue to prevail the natural brain is sneaky and subversive and tries to get its way by getting you to focus on how bad you feel. But when you ride with the team or a few other people you do things that distract you, such as communications or pace lining. Makes a world of difference.

Anyway, back to the story. I headed out with Mercedes, Mallory and JJ. Wasn't too long before Christy joined us. And the hills got worse. The terrain was gorgeous though. Big hills of red clay with green, green grass and trees seemingly artistically planted around old, ruined farm houses and windmills. Almost dramatically beautiful in some areas. While we fought along I started taking a dive physically. Just was not feeling good at all. But JJ and I amused ourselves by trying to get the cows to stampede.

I had found from previous days that the cows seem to take an intense interest in us. Probably don't see too many creatures biking on contraptions in their lifetimes. When you "moo" at them they just look at you like you're an idiot. They munch on the grass and watch you ride by and it almost seems as if they're rolling their eyes at you as you make stupid sounds. But if you bark and howl, it's a different story. That gets their attention almost every time. First, they don't casually lift their heads and watch you, they snap to attention. If they get a good look at you then they'll realize nothing is going on and they start rolling their eyes at you again. But sometimes you'll get a cow or two that is lying down, facing the opposite direction. Then they can't check you out and they get to their feet and start jogging the other way, or down the fence line. The other cows react like birds in a flock and they jog after the first cow, and pretty soon the whole herd is running in formation. It seems to touch some hidden part of the psyche to experience the sensation of biking down a hill with 40 head of cattle thundering along the ridge with you calling out to each other to keep moving. The dust flies and the birds flee and you race alongside until they slow and stop, fading behind you.

We did this for a while and found ourselves at the bottom of a very large and steep hill. It was so steep that I couldn't believe it was a legal road. I had been under the impression that there were laws about how steep a hill could be, but apparently that only applies to certain classes of roads. At the very top was a lone tree, again very artistic and reminiscent of certain pictures I had seen that gave motivational quotes at the bottom. So we started up and what a climb it was. Although I enjoyed the challenge and felt good about reaching the top, the work was enough to completely wipe me out. I was just not feeling good at all. Lucky for me the rest stop was just over the next hill and it's here that I decided that it was better for me in the long run to rest up than to push myself and not get better.

Truthfully, it made so much sense to stop working my body so hard while I was sick that it didn't bother me at all to call it a day. I had biked over 50 miles and there were only 30 or so left, so I didn't feel bad about it. Ate a leisurely lunch and packed the bike up. BJ had forgotten his sunglasses a mile or so back when he had a flat tire so we backtracked in the van to look for them. Along the way we passed the massive hill and it looked just as bad in the van as it did on the bike.

Found the glasses and turned around to head on down the road. A very short time later we came up on an accident scene and found that JJ and Mallory had taken a tumble after a momentum exchange with a semi-truck. The driver swung too close to them and the side of his trailer hit them. Wasn't looking too good for them at all and I and the team were worried sick over them. Fortunately, they ended up "just" having some bumps and bruises, although they were bad enough to go to the hospital to make doubly sure. I went along with them and filled out paperwork and such. It was an interesting side journey that I hope to not repeat throughout the remainder of the trip.

Although the girls were (kind of) fine, the riders up ahead didn't know exactly what was going on and when they saw me and JJ pass by them on the road some of the guys jumped on the bikes and booked it to the local hospital. Where with the headwind they had been doing about 11 mph, the sincere concern for the girls flooded their bodies with adrenaline and suddenly there were doing 18 mph. To me, it was an incredible achievement considering the weather and a testament to how much we have become family in such a short amount of time.

After hanging out at the hospital for a little while, some of the team had to jump on their bikes again and make it to the final destination, a journey that some of them were loathe to make since they had cooled down and had come down off of the adrenaline high. Those of us in the vehicles headed out and I passed out for a nap. Made it to the church in Dodge City, which it turns out was near the famous Boot Hill cemetery.

The host was originally just going to let us stay the night, but was not going to provide dinner. But after seeing our two banged up girls and (I think) our rather impressive group she and the church cook got working in the kitchen and whipped up a virtual banquet. I ate one of everything, stuffing myself with all the healthy food I could get my hands on. I was starting to feel a little bit better, but I promised myself that I would not ride more than 40 miles the next day so that I could make sure that I got closer to 100% health.

After dinner, some of us tried to round up the gang to head over to Boot Hill, which was just a few blocks away. Most of the people just asked what it was, making me feel a little bit old as well as making me wonder how many people had ever seen a western movie. After talking to the locals, though, we found out that it closed in ten minutes, that it cost eight dollars to get in and that it was surrounded by a fence. Quite a bummer, so we headed over to the Applebees for some ice cream.

The group headed over, but Channing and I left the group just to see if we could peek over the fence and see the graveyard. We got a little lost, but finally came up on the back of it and indeed found a large wooden fence. But we hopped up on a ledge and did a pull up and looked in anyways. Found a path with some simple wooden grave markers. Kind of disappointing really. So we headed around the fence, jumping up every once in a while to see what was going on. We found a museum and gift shop and some other building and it seemed like quite the tourist trap instead of an authentic historical marker. But we proceeded on and found the entrance under a large iron worked sign. Took a picture of that and proceeded in, even though the main fences were closed.

The main fence was a wrought iron affair that came up to the chest so we could see that the front mall was a replica old west town. We stood up against the gate to take a picture and it swung open and we kind of laughed about it and raised an eyebrow as we wondered if an open gate meant it was OK for us to wander around. Just then we saw a lady resting on a chair in front of the old saloon and we just walked in and up to her to say hi. Turned out she was the manager of the place and she gladly welcomed us in, free of charge. She told us all about why it was called Boot Hill and how all of the dead people had actually been moved to a safer place and that the real town used to exist five miles away before urbanization threatened it and it was moved to its current location. We told her who we were and how we were only there for one night, but that we still wanted to check it out if we could and she gladly agreed. Feeling pretty good we said thank you very much and started wandering around, with me feeling a little sorry for the rest of our group since they were missing out.

Headed up to the cemetery and read the plaques and such. The more interesting part was the old prison, which Channing and I both took pictures in. Headed down and out so we wouldn't wear out our welcome, but she offered to let us into the old saloon where an old west show was wrapping up. We were pleasantly surprised and headed in to find women and men dressed up just like the movies smiling and laughing with a gentleman playing the old time piano. As we walked around checking the place out the performers would come up and shake hands or curtsy and talk in the old accents and such. Maybe a little fake, but pleasant enough anyways. As we headed out feeling very lucky about the whole thing ,the lady turned to me and handed me two of the performers' garter belts telling me it was the best souvenir that money could buy there. I was on cloud nine. Gratefully accepted the bands and we headed out to meet up with the rest of the group.

Over at the restaurant, we found the group already enjoying ice cream and pie. Walked in with big smiles and wearing the garters on our arms and such, getting some big laughs from people. Sat down at the end with Sam, Christy, and Natalie. I had been craving a slice of hot apple pie with vanilla ice cream and felt like the night couldn't get much better when I found it on the menu. Ordered one and started talking with the little group there. Unfortunately, found that Christy was planning on leaving the team for the summer.

Christy had decided to dedicate her life and education to cancer and so was a strong supporter of what we were doing. But she wasn't enjoying the ride very much. Enough so that she didn't feel like she was up to doing an entire summer of it. Not being the best rider myself, I could sympathize with her plight and I knew that we weren't even a quarter of the way done yet. She had already called her parents and they were going to meet her in a couple of days. We talked and I felt like I was losing more than a team mate. The team has become so close in such a short amount of time that I felt like I was losing a family member. But she had talked with her mom about it and felt like it was the right thing to do.

Afterwards, we walked back to the church and continued talking. She had said that she felt the trip was turning into more of a biking focused event that rewarded the fastest, strongest riders. I had noticed that we were doing a lot of that as well, having passed up several opportunities to get off the bike and explore some of the historical landmarks and such. I vowed to stop at every historical site from then on and to take my time on the bike and make it an enjoyable experience each day instead of pushing myself to stay with the group.

Headed into the church and went straight to bed. It had been a long, long day and it felt great to finally turn in for the night.

 Day 10: Watonga to Buffalo Day 12: Dodge City to Syracuse