So another century is underway as the wind picks up and the heat steadily increases. The towns are about 32-35 miles apart which makes it difficult to endure the long chunks but provides a solid excuse for a sizeable break at each. In the high winds and heat, I'll usually break for about an hour the first time and up to two hours the second time. After all, thirty miles against wind gusts is like fifty miles in regular conditions.
Upon arrival in Tribune, KS, I was seriously torn between calling it a day at 70 miles or pushing forward the last 30. I sat for a couple hours in a rest stop staring at the map, the clock, and the trees outside. I noticed at one point that the wind was actually blowing in my direction for once, so I decided to just go for it. It would be 10:00 by the time I got there, but this is supposed to be an adventure, right?
Those two hours I spent in the rest stop were all it took for the air to cool a bit and the wind to die down. I was surprised by how easy the riding was, but was careful not to get complacent. It was unlikely that the temperature would increase, but the wind could pick back up without warning. Knowing that my luck could be limited, I tried to gain as much ground as possible while the getting was good. The wind never came back, though.
It felt so good to be riding at a realistic speed once again, but nothing felt quite as good as seeing that "Leaving Kansas" sign. Even though the state line does nothing to curtail the forces of nature, as soon as I crossed it, everything just felt better. There were a few bumpy sections of road but overall, the Colorado riding was much better.
In fairness, part of the reason that my introduction to Colorado was so pleasant was that it took place at twilight. The wind had subsided and the setting sun cast radiant and colorful splashes across the horizon. In all directions, the sky was portraying an amazing display of drama. Never had I seen such dynamic and broad explosions of light. The landscape allowed for an endless view if the sky.
I could never effectively describe the grandeur of such a vista, but I am sure that it could only be appreciated after subjecting ones self to the entire spectrum of the sky's power. The heat, the light, the storms, the wind- feeling all of these on the skin and being in tune with the flow of the weather engenders great respect and admiration.
I completed the 30 miles to Sheridan Lake, and as the sun was beginning to fade entirely from view, I began scanning the area for anything that looked like a fair camping space. I was surprised to find a general store there because I had been warned by several locals along the way that I would find nothing. It was closed by the time I arrived, but I was happy that I would be able to get some things in the morning.
As I stood before the entrance, a local girl drive up and rolled down her window. She informed me that the store was closed, but if I needed a place to stay, I could head over to the church. My experience staying in churches has been quite positive, so I immediately made my way down the street. I found a few other bikers there already. They were headed East. They traveled in a group of four and seemed to get along well. We shared some experiences, exchanged some tips, and went to bed.
Even though the mileage takes much longer when fighting the wind, it still feels good to keep the goal. To be honest though, the mileage doesn't really matter because the choices of places to stay are so limited. It's almost necessary to cover the distance or face the alternative of guerilla camping in a ditch. I'm sure I'll get plenty of that in the desert, so for now, I'll take a free church whenever I can.
Location:Sheridan Lake, CO
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