Miles 2049 to 2118, 89 miles, 2850 feet of climb, max speed: 37 mph, avg speed 14 mph (but first 57.2 miles in less than three and a half hours, including rest breaks)
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| Entering our next state! |
The message came in from the Kansas Department of Motor Vehicles around 6 AM this morning that the Missouri River at Atchison had just hit flood stage of 22 feet. At noon, if the river rose to 22.2 feet KDOT announced they would close the bridge. Later news came in that a levee 4 miles north of Atchison had been topped. The message was clear: Get across the bridge before noon, and Dave, this is not the time to take any pictures! Get Going! At 11AM, and 57 miles later an exhausted Dave crossed the bridge into Missouri. Once up the bluff on the Missouri side I retired my biker persona and, armed with my camera, became a tourist again. I asked our staff about the Mississippi, and was told we will cross that bridge when we get there.
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Armed with Fireworks in Dekalb, MO
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While the real bikers kept that mercurial pace, not me! All others were restocked with food and water and ready to go when I arrived at our rest stop in DeKalb, MO. It was a small town that had seen better days. While having a peanut-butter and Frito sandwich I noticed several mischievous looking teenagers leaving church and walking past me going to the only store in town. I was curious, so after a while I went over to the store. They were all coming out of the store armed to the teeth with enough fireworks to take down the Missouri River Bridge! (I could not help but think the church offering might have been a bit light this morning). We started a conversation and I learned much about what it is like being a teen in small town America. They graciously posed for a picture. I was also corrected on my pronunciation. Their town’s name sounds like “D-CAB”. If they wanted an “L” sound they would have included an “L” in the town’s spelling.
The gem of the day was at dinner. I sat down with two grandparents, a very tired daughter, and two fully energized four and five year old grandsons. They were traveling west from Pittsburg out to Utah to work with Native Americans. They weren’t official Presbyterian missionaries, but about as close to being some as a family can come. The boys loved choo-choos, and for the next hour I showed them all my pictures of trains I had collected on my cell phone. Somewhere in all that we did have some adult conversations, but for sure, the boys each had a 1000 questions and I tried my best to answer them all. They could care less about bikes, and you know what, that is entirely okay.
Just two miles from the hotel tonight one of our riders and a pickup truck collided. Police and ambulance had already arrived on the scene when I arrived. The preliminary report is that the rider will be able to continue Tuesday and tomorrow the bike will be repaired. It reminded us all that we can’t let our guards down for even a second.
Bottom Line: Kansas and the Great Plains are behind us. Every day brings new adventure!
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