Starting in High Gear, the Hallways of My Mind, and Chasing Jamie Norton

Day: 28 (Eureka, KS to Newton, KS)

Average Speed: 12.1 MPH

Miles Cycled Today: 81.1 

Miles Cycled Total: 1784

Mood: Fantastic (in another sense of the word)

Me and My Shadow

High Gear Closed Sign

Kansas is closed on Sundays. 

Sunday is a terrible day to be cycling long distance, when you depend on some sort of store being open in the far-apart towns in order to refill your water bottles and grab a snack. These are things that you fantasize about during long stretches (just three more miles until a Diet Dr. Pepper with crushed ice… three more miles…) 

Emporia at Night

The quaint college town of Emporia (I stayed there last night- not in Eureka) was relatively lively yesterday when I went for a moonlit ride through the shopping district. But this morning? Nothing. The only signs of life were in a tiny (excellent) diner on the the main street. 

High Gear Cycle Shop in Emporia, KS

This wouldn’t be a big deal, except I had a broken spoke on my back wheel that needed to be fixed. It snapped during last night's casual ride with a distinct pting!. Other than Emporia, the only other town with cycle repair for the foreseeable future was Newton, where I am now, but the owners are currently out of town on a family vacation (I called to check). 

And because it was Sunday, High Gear, Emporia’s bicycle shop, was- like the rest of Kansas- closed.

Closed, that is, to the general public.

Maryann Peak Opens Shop

If there are any mathematicians out there who would like to figure out the odds of being hosted by a person whose daughter just so happens to be a bicycle mechanic, just so happens to work for that shop, just so happens to have a key to get in, and just so happens to be available on a Sunday morning, go for it. 

While you’re doing the calculations, I’m gonna go buy a lottery ticket. 

Maryann Works on My Trek 520

Jennifer Bennett’s daughter, Maryann Peak, met us at the bike shop with her husband in minutes. While Jennifer and I grabbed a bite at that diner, Maryann replaced three spokes on the tire and her husband washed down the bike. She also made several fine tuning adjustments, replaced the rim tape, and cleaned the heck out of the front and back cogs, where the chain rests. 

I tried to pay her, but you know how that went. 

“I think it’s awesome what you’re doing,” she said as a farewell. 

Jennifer drove me back to the Dollar General in Eureka exactly where she had picked me up the day before. Actually, she parked a couple spots to the left… so this was the opposite of a SAG… I lost mileage. I pedaled at least 10 more feet than I should’ve had to. But that’s okay. 

I stocked up on water (I’m carrying six bottles now instead of three) and headed out of Eureka in the early afternoon.

Here’s the route for today:

Today's Route... difficult to visualize without terrain map, I know.

When the map warns you by saying No Services for the Next 40.5 Miles what that translates to is Stock Up on Water, Make Sure Your iPod is Charged, and Either Listen to an Audiobook or Think Good Thoughts. 

The audiobook worked for the first 20 mile stretch. I’m a Stephen King fanatic, and I loaded his new book End of Watch on my iPod this morning. But at an intersection (one of the two turns I had to make today), three kids were playing outside their house, and unknowingly changed my entire day.

They stopped and stared at me. So I stopped and stared at them. And I popped out the earbuds. 

You know how people always complain about kids? (Kids these days! Don’t appreciate anything! Have it easy! Don’t know manners! All they do is stare at their damn phones! They’re so stupid nowadays!) 

Can we stop that?

Charlie, Cylan, and Gavin (left to right)

Those complaints (and their many variations) have been adult catchphrases forever, and not only is it hypocritical (adults are far more absorbed in technology than kids in my experience), but it’s just plain inaccurate. 

These three were delightful. They excitedly ran to fill my water bottles, and then asked the much-more-fun Kid’s Version of the Usual Questions. They couldn't care less where I was from or where I started. They wanted to know the nitty gritty, and they asked questions with wide-eyed innocence and amazement. “Do you have a laptop?” “How do you keep your stuff charged?” “Where do you sleep?” “How do you know where to go?”

Because of this diversion, my mind began to wander when I left them. I found myself in my classroom at Circleville Middle School, surrounded by my eighth graders- the best class of students I’ve had to date- who are moving on to high school in September. 

Gradually, I start to see their smiles again. I hear their jokes. I replay some amazing moments of the CVMS Daily News, a project that our whole school was involved in on an everyday basis. I remember how we laughed, and laughed hard, every single time we recorded a new episode.

Ten miles pass. Look up. There’s Kansas. It’s beautiful. Shut off audiobook. Put music on shuffle. Continue daydream. 

I take a tour of the school as if it’s this coming September, and I visit with each of my colleagues.

I ask my neighbor Ralph why he still has his “No Shave November” Champion plaque above his classroom door. I tease Jen, who is now in my old room. She glares at me jokingly since it’s “my fault” we had to swap teaching locations. I enjoy the A/C in the main office and ask Lindsay for the ninth time when her baby is due. I’m called into Lee’s office, and quickly go through the rolodex of bad things I may have done to deserve a principal’s reprimand only to be given a pat on the back. I hear Tammy complaining about the rain from the nurse’s office. 

Twenty miles pass. Look up. There’s Kansas. It’s beautiful. Fast forward a song from Aladdin Jr. that somehow found its way into my music collection.

I ask Lisa if she’s willing to help with the school play again this year. She is. I give Holly a hug, and I'm surprised to see our retired colleague, Addie, visiting her. I’m drawn to the tech room by blaring hair band music and I hang out with Dave and Julie for a bit. Caesar greets me in the hallway and walks with me to Susie’s room, where I thank her again for her ride down to Yorktown and ask about her summer cruise. 

Thirty miles. Look up. There’s Kansas. It’s beautiful.

Stacey fills me in on Niagra Falls, Keri and Alexis tell me about their wedding plans, Linda chides me for not telling her I’m alive more often, and Phil loudly bitches about the heat upstairs. 

Forty miles. Beautiful.

I head down to the basement, where few people ever go, to have lunch with Doug and Fred. Amy says something witty to me on the way there and laughs at her own joke. Doug and Fred tease me and ask why I haven’t lost more weight. They suggest I made the whole trip up. 

Fifty. It’s cooling off. Breeze rustles the corn. Beautiful.

Hendricks tells some off-color jokes. Haas hears them through the open door and chuckles loudly, both admonishing and encouraging him.

Sixty. Sunset. Stunning. 

And then I’m in Newton. A populated and beautifully manicured city with a great burger/ice cream joint on the way in. I eat outside, and slowly come to the end of of a cherry pecan scoop in a waffle cone when I spot a westbound touring cyclist speeding by the restaurant. The first west-bounder I’ve seen in 1775 miles.

Jamie Norton. 

In case I lost you, the fantasy portion of this post is officially over. That last paragraph is real. I’m going to switch back to the past tense in order to make that a bit more clear. 

I Too Have a Lizard, Jamie Norton.

I knew I was hot on his tail yesterday when I saw a guest book he had signed “just hours before” I stopped in, according to the owners of the Lizard Convenience Store (they give cyclists toy lizards by the way... see pic... I'm Krazy Gluing that thing to my handlebars as soon as I can). 

But now, the moment of truth. I choked back the rest of the cone, hopped on the bike and sped off in hot pursuit, leaving my bungee cord behind. 

I started the race two blocks behind him, and he was moving fast. My speedometer hovered between 17 and 20 mph as I slowly crept up. He turned. I turned. He turned again. I turned again. I thought about reaching behind me and yanking my luggage of my rear bike rack (Go Go Gadget Light Speed!), but I didn’t.

Around a blind curve, he had turned once again, and I didn’t see it. I realized my error, stopped traffic for a quick U-ey, and saw his neon yellow jersey fading into the distance. He was racing the sun and heading 10 more miles to the next town. I’m sure of it. 

Beautiful Newton, Kansas, at Night

I hesitatingly gave up. What I just described was a three mile chase. And I lost. The benefit was that the Google Maps route back to the city park, where I’m now camping, took me on a wonderful bike path and gave me a great glimpse of Newton before the sun took its final bow. 

Thanks for the tour of Newton, Jamie Norton. 

But do you think I'm some sort of caboose?

In your dreams. 

P.S.

I'm curious to know how many other towns in the US are envious of this niche title...

...that being said, Westtown, NY doesn't have shit to brag about.