I'm in a Library in Missouri that prohibits Facebook usage

and have done sixty of the hundred miles I hope to bike. I'm kind of tired. Feel obligated to blog. Have met a couple other cyclists. Currently at the library with one of them. She has a blog. I'll post her blog when I take a better picture of her. She is eating lunch. I should not have interrupted her. Appears the food is going to spill from her mouth. I also met a Turtle, which I call by many names. It lives on the back of my bike. Last night it snuggled into my armpit while I slept. In about two hundred miles, my route deviates from the other cyclists. So it'll be me and Urtle. I've also included a picture of a man walking from the library. He shall be known as Missouri Walking. This is the last I saw of him, Missouri Walking.

A Post About Places

So. I don't really talk about biking. This is a biking blog. I intend for it to be more about all the other stuff, leaving you to figure out the rest. Well. I'm tired. And I was going to call this blog post Blown Around Kansas. Feeling Blew. I did not. This is not a journal. So, in summation, I am feeling icky, and I'm going to talk about all the icky parts of the ride. First night I stayed in Haswell, Colorado. I was kind of creeped out. There were many abandoned buildings in the middle of a town with a pop. of a hundred. The next night I stayed in Tribune, Kansas. The town square played country music ALL NIGHT and the town was named after Horace Greeley, the agrarian socialist founder of the New York Tribune. Did I mention that country music played all night? Day three was Scott City. I tracked a demolition derby for hours, but never found it. Day four was Rush Center. I dumpstered pizza and steak here. Day five was Larned. Got stuck in 40 mph wind. This town was ok. I drank a Mickeys here. Day six was Hesston. More dumpstering here. Rode over a hundred miles that day. Got called an asshole for awhile as a motorists idled next to me on a dark road. Day seven was Toronto. The storm that brought the heat and wind for a week came in that night. I was under a pavillion at a campground. Was delivered fried fish around ten by another camper. Played on the unicycle of yet another camper. Great Camp. Day eight was Immanuel Lutheran Church. A parishoner stopped me on the road and drove me there. I had this whole church area to myself, so I walked around in my underwear and ate last weekends leftovers from the bakesale. Day nine will be, who knows. Pretty sure I'm breaking a fever. Mere miles from Missouri. So somewhere in Missouri. Wait. Today is day ten. I missed a day. I MISSED A DAY. I don't really miss that day. PS- I haven't found your fushia crayon yet Dewey.

Does Anyone Read This?

If you do, say something. Uh. I'm alone in Kansas. The most engaging thing I do each day is find a library, and read part of a book in silence for a couple hours. Maybe ask me to find something, like a blue midget, and i'll take a picture of me and the blue midget. Here's a photo of an old motel sign. I like it. Do you?

Mouthing Kansas

Yesterday was a great day in Kansas. There were trees and farms and grass and twenty miles of protected wetlands with oil rigs and I thought, 'gee. Kansas isn't all that bad.' I'm getting used to twenty mph crosswinds that are at times headwinds. I'm starting to enjoy these little towns in central Kansas with their trees and waving hands and smiles. And I'm loving these cows. I even said that out loud (perhaps because I've been alone for a week). I said, 'ohh. I love you cows.' Then later that day (my first hundred-mile-day since day one) I dumpstered deli beef sticks. Score. But what about the cows? Can I not love beef sticks and cows?

I get it Kansas, it's like baren here or something

This is a cute sign. It's still windy. The towns are small, and not really that cute. The cowboys are oggling me. One of them tried to marry me off this morning. After learning that I'm the over ripened age of twenty-five, he recommended I hook up with a widow. This police station looks like a strip club.

Another Tour

Did my first full day yesterday. 95 miles. stoked. Also found a lake to bath in and even out my tan. I'm going to push 100ish mile days till I'm out of Colorado.

computors and blogging after the train

There may or may not be three posts similar to this one on the blog. Having a hard time. It may or may not be because of the train wine or because of the thirty hour ride where I met Tom. He rides a Schwinn Mirada and is a good guy. Somehow that photo came out blurry. Here's another one. I leave for my bus in an hour, and get to Pueblo, CO at three in the morning. It'll be a nice twenty mile ride until I find someone else to take fuzzy photos of.

Oakland and Leaving

I've been home long enough to both, want to bike two thousand miles, and build a shack next to the garden in my backyard. It helps that I keep running into friends that are traveling as well. This is Bobby. He biked cross-country and is now biking (via motorcycle) down the Pacific coast. I met him in Colorado on my first tour. He had a freshly shaved mohawk and a Kona with a double on the front. It's nice to see travelers while I'm home. It's a reminder that home is just a place to feel good stopping. At this point, it seems like anyplace could be home. Maybe that's what I'm looking for, a new place to stop for awhile. Maybe that's what everyone traveling is looking for. Maybe Bobby answers that question in his blog. Check him out @ http://www.crocsandsocks.posterous.com/