(The journey past)
Waking up before the sun has it's privileges, perhaps a nice sit-down breakfast or maybe a brisk walk around the block. To the trio an early morning means a 15 hour day with 110 miles between start and finish. Nick's alarm rings the morning commencement and as usual breakfast is conjured up from a mixture of grocery bag cuisine and slow wit. Last nights deliberation over whether we should pull a century today was concluded when we did not return to bed at 5 a.m. On the road by seven the heat to our backs and Kansas a long memory, Colorado becomes our new mother. And then Colorado becomes the new Kansas. With all the warnings from back East, unfounded by our personal experiences, Kansas, it turns out, has a very dynamic landscape with rolling hills and jutting stone all through the Western quarter. Colorado, at least Eastern, is very flat, very boring. The road meanders for miles ahead of you with the only prescription from driving you crazy is to focus on the pot hole ridden highway that is Colorado. Nothing to see to the left and nothing to the right our only visual treat was when large farm machinery would cause an uproarious wheat cloud terrorizing the sky and road. The trio knowingly continues head strong into what some would call the 3rd level of hell or maybe Cope, Anton or even Last Chance. Three of our stops from our 100 miles.
(nothingness of Colorado)
The day afforded little, as it pertains to places to re-group and water up. Small wheat towns with large grain elevators grasping the landscape and collecting homes to keep them from being lonely. Our first of these towns was someplace called Joes no stops just a drive by. I don't really need to go into all the little towns but they were few and far between with little to offer the trio. One interesting experience, happened in Anton. We met a fellow road wanderer this man being on a motorcycle. He was very disapointed all the trees were cut down and he couldn't get any water was calling Anton an oasis before the 20's and talking about the dust bowl. He was a talker that was about all he did, talk for about 25 minutes then he just got up and left.
(The dust bowl heretic)
The day dragged on and on for hours but our perseverance held true and 110 miles tucked. Reaching Byers, CO. by 10 p.m. stuffing at the local grocery, asking questions pertaining to a home for the night offers are laid upon the table from a local cashier after some discussion we decide his home wouldn't be the best place for the night. We had previously thought about renting a hotel room in celebration of all the miles. Only three motels in town, the first being a strike out, too expensive the second a strike out, no vacancy and the third well, we couldn't find the sunset motel so there really wasn't a third but three strikes and we are off to sleep in the park. With little energy and patience we set-up the tent and sleep comes next.
(finally in Byers)
Miles: As if you didn't know 110!
Morale: No, thank you, just a couple of light lager's
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