Kansas, with the singular yet notable exception of the entire state smelling like a soiled diaper, is not such a bad place after all. It's not as flat as I was hoping, but there are no real challenges. The people no longer speak with a southern accent and continue to grow more tolerant of bikes on the roads as I move West. The landscape here is surprisingly lush, too. I guess I never really gave it that much thought, but I was not expecting thick jungle-looking vegetation and total green across the land. Although most of the land I passed through was used for agriculture, all of the in-between areas and state-owned portions were abundant with plant life and insects. In fact, the insects here are so plentiful and loud that there were moments that I could barely hear anything else over their buzzing. I also took numerous kamikaze strikes from what felt like golfball sized beetles.
I knew it would be too soon to celebrate the end of dog attacks when I dubiously declared their conclusion yesterday. Sure enough, the craziest one of all ocurred today.
As I rounded a hill, I saw a dog sprinting toward the road down a perpendicular driveway which intersected about 100 yards up. The driveway was about as long as the distance between myself and the intersection, and it was clear that our paths would collide. With my prior experience in mind, I decided to dismount and face the beast hand-to-hand. I picked up a trick from a New Zealander I had recently met who was heading the other way- he told me to raise my air pump as though I were primed to strike and this would surely intimidate the wretched cur. I did, and the dog wavered in his approach.
We stood, eye to eye, for a moment as I continued to wield my pump as menacingly as possible. Eventually, he backed down and began sniffing around in the grass as though he had been meaning to do just that all along. He didn't fool me. I knew better than to interpret his moentary loss of focus as an indication that our conflict had run it's course. Knowing full well that one stroke of the pedal would send him chasing anew, I slowly began to create distance between us. Still, he lingered in the vicinity acting as though he had lost interest. When what seemed like a suitable void between us had been established, I mounted the bike and took off.
Like clockwork, the despicable hound set off in pursuit. A string of trucks happened to pass in the opposing direction just as our chase began in earnest. I hoped that this would create some confusion and slow him down, but he continued unphased. I jumped gears and engaged my complete muscular facility in outrunning my tormentor, and even at 22 mph, he remained within inches of me.
Another truck passed, a loud one. I quickly glanced to the mirror off my left handlebar to see how far back the dog had gotten but I didn't even see him anymore. I supposed the truck had scared him off or that he simply gave up. Just as I was ready to cool down and recover, I double checked by turning my head to the right.
To my horror and amazement, the dog was running immediately to my right, nose to nose. I shouted in surprise and actually complimented the dog for running so fast. Still, my heart leapt and my body stiffened as he pulled ahead and tried to cut me off. He ran directly in front of me and even clipped the front tire. I was afraid that he would cause me to fall but at that speed, my forward momentum allowed me to push through.
He aligned himself to my left and appeared to be preparing for another pass. It occurred to me that this animal had been running at a speed of over 20 mph for almost 2 minutes. Even in the heat of battle, I couldn't help but marvel at his accomplishment. Nevertheless, the pressure was still on. He persisted, silently, along with me. He managed to get closer and closer to my legs and started displaying his murderous fangs. I knew for sure this would be the one. Never had I encountered such a worthy adversary and if anyone deserved a chunk of my flesh, it was he.
Adrenaline running high, my thoughts were cloudy. I didn't know how much longer my burst of energy would last and I could only hope that his would subside first. Finally, he began to fade. He lost a foot, then a yard, then in my mirror I could see him slow to a halt and helplessly watch his prey vanish into the horizon. It was over.
I began laughing and cheering. I was still reeling from the amazing display of athleticism on the part of the dog. He was truly the most aggressive and worthy opponent I had yet faced. A downward hill allowed me to coast for a bit and relax my legs. It was then that I noticed my feet just shaking in the pedals. It was the adrenaline and the excitement of the chase. Although victorious, I was humbled by this maniacal creature's ability to push me to my limit. And in the end, it was actually fun.
For the next few miles, I could think of nothing else but my brush with destiny. I'll never forget the desire in his eyes and the urgency in his stride as the beast pursued me. It was thrilling and frightening at once.
Aside from that, nothing terribly significant happened today. Kansas is like they say it is in that miles and miles go by before the scenery changes at all. The roads are pin-straight across the entire state and laid out in a mile-by-mile grid. Most are unpaved, but luckily none that I needed were. The going was slower than expected, but there were no serious climbs. Kansas presents it's own set of challenges: boredom, wind, lack of signage, loss of focus, fatigue from riding hours in the same position. Even still, I don't miss those hills!
Camping in a city park in Chanute. Not sure about this town, so I locked the bike up as a precaution. This is only the second time on the whole trip that I've felt the need. Not sure about tomorrows plan yet. 106 miles down today, and I wouldn't be adverse to taking it easy tomorrow. It just depends if there is anywhere to stop.
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