We've arrived at one of the most ill-hyped states that we will cross. Horror stories abound and i feel a tightening in my chest. Nick is sneezing. Gary's bike is broken and the folks at Tailwinds Cycles (Pittsburg, KS) are on lunch break. Oh dear. Only one thing to do, however. Just put my head down and push through it, singing Sam Cooke into the wind and chewing gum in rhythm with my pedaling. I don't think it will actually be that bad....i mean, it's flat.
Last night, we stayed in Golden City, MO. We were very excited about this stay because our map listed the "Golden City Bike Hostel", which we envisioned, of course, as a glistening oasis of bike-friendliness. A place where the sweet old ladies would be awaiting our arrival with steaming trays of muffins and crowds of delicious microbrews peering out of golden ice buckets. But i called ahead and the slow friendly drawl on the other end answered "Wyatt Funeral Home". Needless to say, we made a beeline for the pavilion in the city park, as the clouds wrinkled their dark brow for the second downpour of the day. But we didn't "build the house" (klaus putting up his tent) without going to Cooky's first. This is an old-timey cafe whose name reverberates in the ears of cyclists within a 100 mile radius. This was a place that was worth all the hype and more. After a delicious early dinner, we went and set up camp, waited a few hours, then went back for pie. Dutch Peach, Dutch Cherry, Dutch mixed berry, and German Chocolate - all a smashing success...so i think yesterday's dutch crusts may be the only things thrusting us towards Kansas against our wills. Now it's off to Walnut, KS, without our dear travelling companion of the last week, Gare Bear.
So long friends. I dream of New York streets and fine coffees, but we are persevering. Colorado will be good!