Who Touched the Thermostat?!

Waking up to the sound of geese honking and the smell of fertilizer wofting through the Larned City Park, I prepared myself for the impending horror that I have come to assosciate with Kansas riding. I invite the readers to check out the topographical map of Kansas and note that the entire state is a slight incline from East to West. It has it's flat parts, I won't deny it, but they are flat like a pinball machine is flat. And I apologize for recycling that reference, but after 98 miles, it's hard to think of something else that is flat and slanted.

Today was full of variety and excitement. By variety, I mean headwinds in gusts of 30 mph and some at 60. Somewhere, someone decided to mess with the thermostat and the temperature leapt from a tolerable 90 degrees to a fiery 106 over lunch. Naturally, the winds are not refreshing or cool but more like someone pointing a giant hair drier directly at your face- a hair drier whose diameter is wider than your entire body. Some gusts were enough to stop the bike and the forward momentum almost completely. The thing that is most frustrating about this is the irony: on flat ground, it should be a great opportunity to gear up and let it loose. I should be able to push 16 mph all day long, but with these winds, I'm lucky to maintain 8-10 mph for two hour stretches before I have to take a break.

Kansas really is a psychological challenge.

One of the things I talk about when I'm teaching the band kids is the pursuit of perfection. We all know it to be unattainable, so keeping it as a goal can be one of the most difficult things in life. Striving for that which we know to be unreachable can demand the best out of you, but it takes serious discipline and commitment to even fight that battle. The ability to push for a level which you know you can never reach is the only way to ensure your best performance at all times.

The way this translates to what I'm doing is that there are so many moments where the goal seems totally unrealistic and fanciful that it can be very tempting to give up. Especially in Kansas, where I can see the town from miles away and I can ride for hours through hot and overbearing winds before the silo begins to grow even slightly closer, this inner drive for the seemingly unattainable keeps me going. It can be extremely discouraging to put forth such effort without ever feeling the payoff, but it takes the entire day out here. In the hills, I could just look at the topo and count down the big climbs, but out here, it's one continuous struggle all day long with no place to stop and not even a tree for shade. When I finally hit that mini-mart tonight in Dighton, I threw my sore and stiff arm up in the air like a I just won the Tour. Pulling into there and buying an arm-load of cold drinks was the best conceivable payoff for a long and torturous day.

One notable experience today was a disgruntled trucker who was so severely inconvenienced by having to turn his wheel a quarter of an inch to go around me that he waited at the mini mart to approach me. His plan was to lecture me about the law and the rules of the road.

He called out from halfway across the parking lot as he appraoched with purpose, "Are you from Kansas?"

Assuming he wanted to ask for directions or something, I immediately replied, "Oh no, I'm from out of town- just passing through"

At this point, he had made his way nearer and stood before me, all 5'8" of him. A stocky and somewhat homely character, he could barely contain his eagerness to set me straight. Through his stereotypical mustache and discount sunglasses, he began, erroneously I might add, to explain his interpretation of the law.

He clearly assumed that I, like he, was a barely literate hick whose understanding of the law was as dubious as the fashion statement he was making with his overalls. He tried to tell me that it was my responsibility as a biker to get as far into the shoulder as possible so that vehicles could pass. Just as I stopped him to expound upon my correct and researched understanding of the law, a police officer walked up.

I continued, "Sir, it's my understanding that on state and county roads, bicycles are legally entitled to utilize the same space as all other vehicles and are similarly held to the same standards of conduct."

Now I should mention that one of my weaknesses as a person is dealing with stupid people. I have a difficult time bringing myself down to a level that they can readily understand, so I usually just frustrate them.

Just as my nemesis was ready to refute my claim, the officer stepped in and said to him, "Let me stop you right there... He's absolutely right. The law gives bikes equal rights to the road provided they adhere to the same regulations. If he wants to cruise down the middle of the lane all day long, it's the responsibility of the vehicle wishing to pass to do so safely, just like you would with any other vehicle."

Now this just made me feel good. Additionally, the trucker's lip began to quiver as he saw his golden moment of retribution flipping against him. He tried desperately to contain his rage and even attempted to set the police officer straight! "I have family members in law enforcement, and I..."

Swifly, and with a little added confidence from the cops presence, I cut him off, "Well, luckily we have soomeone right here who is in law enforcement... A police officer."

It was pretty glorious. The trucker tried to change his tune and say that he was just trying to look out for me, but in the end, he was just bitter that he had to move out of the way of what he considered to be an outsider.

I have found here in the heartland that people don't generally make connections between their conceptions of patriotism and reality. For example, pronouncing Spanish words authentically (like some of the town names) garners strange looks and corrections to the Americanized phonetics. Driving a fuel efficient vehicle (or a bike) tends to make people treat you like an intellectual elite and can alienate the normal folk. The mere mention of energy independence or renewable energy sources is met with immediate dismissal and almsot laughed off like it's a joke. One guy even gesticulated air-quotes when mentioning the EPA, just to belittle it's validity.

Most of the people I have met view the progressive ideas regarding sustainable energy/food/economy as some kind of threat to the American Way. I don't want to generalize the whole Midwest, and since it's getting late, I'm having a harder time putting my thoughts together, but the lesson I have learned in the last few days is that some people will simultaneously bemoan the downfall of small-town-America whilst needlesly consuming excess energy and food and patronizing the very businesses which are directly attributable to the closure of every other business in their town. I know everyone wants to save a buck, and I'm not saying I know the answer because I truly don't, but I just wish more people would put their money where their mouth is. I do understand that sometimes there is no other choice but to buy from Wal-Mart (or Alco out here) but I just wish people would make the connection that by turning all of tour business to those places, you drive the nail in the coffin of the local places.

I apologize again if I get preachy. I really don't mean to pontificate and I truly am humbled by the complexity of these issues. I don't have answers, or even good ideas, but what I try to do is be conscious of the issues and critically analyze how I fit into the problem/solution. When I stop in small towns, I spend money at the little family owned businesses. Not even because I need what they sell, but because I want to make a statement that I appreciate what they are doing and I wish them well. Maybe the bread costs forty cents more than Alco, but what's the cost of this guy shutting his doors and skipping town?

Location:Dighton, KS