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?