Pokemon GO AWAY!, a Century on the Road, and an Adorable Turtle

Day: 29 (Newton, KS to Larned, KS)

Average Speed: 14.2 MPH

Miles Cycled Today: 112.3 

Miles Cycled Total: 1897

Mood: Humorous

This Excellent Signage is Everywhere in Kansas. It's the Law.

The whole Pokémon Go phenomenon is really creeping me out. 

Don't Google Image "Kinky Tarzan." Consider Yourself Warned.

I don’t know much about the game, other than that it causes groups of teenagers to drive very slowly near parks and churches, pause for about a minute, and then speed off. Someone tried to explain it to me, but I tuned out at “Poke Balls,” because those are two words that shouldn’t be in the same sentence, let alone right next to one another. It sounds like something Tarzan might say if he were feeling kinky.


I'm sure all these jokes have been made already, but they're new to me. 

Imagine if different teens’ zitty faces kept popping up in your bedroom window while you were trying to sleep. They’re harmless, and they don’t even care about looking at you. It’s just the latest trend- Popping-Up-In-Bedroom-Windows. Since parks and churches are often my sleeping quarters, that’s what I’m experiencing. 

And I didn’t even know about the whole craze until it was well underway. I just thought teenagers in the midwest were really bored and doing homework for their Drivers Ed class at midnight. Or smoking pot. One of those. 

It wasn’t Pokemon that woke me up last night, though. There was a beautiful, rainless lightning storm happening until I went to bed at 3 AM. I didn’t put the rainfly on my tent because I wanted the view as I fell asleep (read: I was too lazy to attach it). As a result, I discovered an alarm clock that actually works for getting my ass in gear: a torrential downpour. 

It was comical how quickly I got out of that tent, moved it under a pavilion, and fell back asleep. I’m betting it was under a minute, but I remember it quite clearly. 

Another late start (insert excuse here). And I was a bit mad at myself because I wanted to do my first hundred mile ride today. No way in hell could I pull off 100 when I’m barely on the bike before noon. 

First Century of Trip

So I did 112 instead. My first century (hundred mile cycle day) of the trip. 

Perfectly cool temperatures, easy terrain, plus Jason Isbell’s album Southeastern on repeat (give it a listen- so good) kept my average speed high, even though my legs never stopped working. The drawback of being on flatter land is that there are few opportunities to coast, unlike in hilly and mountainous terrain.

Adorable Water Tower

The first break I took was in a town called Buhler. This town looks fictional. Like it belongs on a street in Disney World. It is by no means a touristy place, it just delights in its own kitschy wetern-ness. I was not shy about expressing this to the locals in Mama Lou’s Cafe over lunch. They had been asking me the Usual Questions, and I told them that I thought their town was “adorable.” Poor word choice. No one spoke to me after that. I think it’s the way I said it, emphasizing the second syllable and slapping my hands down on the table at the same time (“I think this town is a-DOR-able!”). 

Seriously. Who does that?

But look at these pictures. And the clouds were puffy. Adorbs. 

Adorable Storefronts

Old West Emporium? Adorable.

Look how ADORABLE!!!

I stocked up on water in the next town, Nickerson, because I had a sixty mile stretch of nothing ahead of me. It was 5:30 when I got there.  An elderly woman was pouring herself an iced tea when I came in, and she welcomed me, telling me where to camp in the town park. I told her I intended on cycling through to Larned. 

“Oh, no you’re not. You’re going to stay right here. There’s showers in the town park and I’ll cook you breakfast in the morning. It’s too far to Larned.” 

This went back and forth for a while, and she almost swayed me, but calling it quits for the day in Kansas after only 50 miles? Inexcusable. I thanked her for her offer and bought her iced tea. She was so bowled over by this gesture that I'd thought she might cry. Here’s a lady who thinks nothing of offering a stranger breakfast, but is stunned that anyone might do something for her. I can’t figure out whether that’s sad or uplifting. 

Scottish Ollie

I met a Scottish eastbounder named Ollie, who was wearing what appeared to be an old school wrestler’s outfit. “Jamie Norton,” he said “is staying in Larned tonight.” 

Carol Pfister

I visited with Carol Pfister, yet another good samaritan who has a sign offering water to cyclists halfway through that vacant stretch. I didn’t need it. I just wanted to meet her. And her doggies were a-DOR-able! 

Turtle Rescue

I saved a turtle (on a dark note, turtles are without a doubt the most present roadkill that I’ve seen on the entire trip, and I cringe each time I come across one). 

In thanks for relocating him to the other side of the road, the little bastard urinated all over my hand. But I guess if someone fifty times my size picked me up and moved me the length of two football fields in a couple of seconds, I’d urinate on him too. 

And I made it to Larned just after sunset. 

You know what eastbounders miss every day that I get to see constantly? The sunset. Take your prevailing wind advantage and shove it. I don’t have to turn my head 180 degrees to enjoy a glimpse of daily wonder. And the wind hasn’t been bad at all. So there. 

Sunset at Today's 100th Mile

Had some Taco Bell, which I’ll either deeply regret or truly enjoy tomorrow, snagged a tall Coors Light from the Kwik-E-Mart, and set up camp in the town park, where a car full of teenagers just rolled up and is pausing by my pavilion (12:52 AM). I’ll take a picture of that. 

This is Constant! Popping-Up-In-Bedroom-Windows.

What do you say we shoot for mile 2000 tomorrow?

Sounds like a game plan.

And let’s call this game Jimmy GO. 

P.S. 

I have no perception of what "a laundry mat" means. Therefore, it's impossible to change.

By the way... you could've looked six feet up- on your own damn sign-

to figure out the correct spelling. Just sayin'.