Tuesday, July 2nd, 2024
Council Grove, KS to Newton, KS
73 miles, 1572 ft elevation
“If I get struck by lightning while biking, will the electricity be grounded through the rubber tires?” Nah, get in the damn ditch.
New road texture unlocked — grass! Wonderfully smooth, like riding felt.
Kansas’ entrance exam has us stumped. We began the morning excited by the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve and with it, the opportunity to purchase another sticker for our bikes! However, that spark of energy quickly died as we got onto the highway and were immediately greeted by a 20 mph gust of headwind that would follow us for the remainder of the day. At the Tallgrass Prairie, I saw my first herd of bison from afar. I mistook them for Black Angus cows that have been a hallmark of our trip so far. I took a detour from the group (Cleo, Hank, and JD) and trekked up 2 miles of gravel through a scenic trail by the visitor’s center. Still, the bison remained black lumps in the distance. Another day, another dream crushed (kidding).
The rest of the team — Amulya, Rebecca, and Jess — had attempted to avoid the headwinds. But after a one-hour detour, they realized there was no escape. The Spokes team was now separated, and we were resigned to two parallel storylines for the rest of the day.
The sun admittedly drove me a little crazy, but looking at the shades of grass today made me happy amidst the battering cries of the wind. I tried to keep a positive attitude, which I’d say was moderately successful all things said and done today. What’s important isn’t necessarily finishing, but finishing with a positive attitude.
For the first time in weeks, I snacked. Usually, I can go a minimum of 25 miles and up to 40 miles without getting off the bike. Today was an exception. The headwinds meant I was advancing at a steady 8 miles per hour. The heat index read 110°. Every 5 miles, I was sat on the shoulder gnawing a fig bar.
I caught up with Hank, Cleo, and JD at lunch. Similar to Varsha yesterday, today was Hank’s breaking point. Those headwinds. Cleo put on a motivational David Goggins speech,Get Up and Get It Done, for us before we headed out to complete the route. Having internalized failure, drowning in darkness, fear and insecurity, we merged back onto Highway 50. We were no longer afraid of going into that dark place and finding ourselves.
Funny enough, Spokes has pushed me closer to the comforts of modern society than ever before. Air conditioning, an iced coke, a pull-out sofa — all of these things I find miraculous. Of course there is something empowering and enlightening about roughing it out, but technology and progress are wonderful.
Before and after — tempestuous
The first ten miles after lunch were relatively easy. We took our time at the water stop, then took off for the final 17-mile leg to Newton. A cloud loomed up above, as well as a little tailwind. We welcomed the shade and the helpful breeze after a long day where heat exhaustion loomed above. However, those clouds soon gave way to lightning, and lots of it. On my left, on my right, then on the road just ahead. The next one struck a shrub.
The crickets began chirping even louder than earlier. I could feel the moisture changing in the air. Could I out cycle a lightning storm? I had no choice, I was far from the next town. I assumed aero position, my elbows tucked and my head down. Maybe if I got low enough, the lightning wouldn’t identify me. But people survive lightning, right?
Then, we got a text message from Varsha, our driver for the day. “Host recommends seeking shelter, we’re coming to get you.” That’s when I start pedaling like hell to reach the next town, Walton. I camped out at a gas station for the next 30-minutes, even treating myself to a 100-grand chocolate bar!
Buckets of water started pouring from the sky. The thunder was like nothing I’ve ever experienced, like someone shooting fireworks right outside your door. Car alarms went off all around the parking lot. I took a step away from the windows. We were in the eye of the storm. The wind gusts hit 60-70 mph. Imagine that tailwind!
Our host John drove his van through these conditions to graciously pick us up.
The ditch
Hank and JD were in a ditch about half a mile away, getting as low to the ground as possible. They got drenched in the process, but luckily they were safe. We left our bikes in Walton. The next question was: where is Cleo? She went ahead from the water stop, and we assumed she already reached Newton. However, no one could get ahold of her by phone. We kept our eyes peeled, checking ditches and people’s front porches for her white bike and orange jersey. When we finished scouring the 5-mile path from Walton to Newton and reached the home of our host, Cleo’s bike was spotted on the porch. Her phone battery died, but she’d arrived here before the storm even started. We all breathed a gentle sigh of relief.
picking up the bikes post storm
Hank, JD, and I were luckily able to finish our rides. We were dropped off by our host Orvin after locating Cleo. I was really satisfied and grateful to finish this project (through Spokes, I've framed each day as a project) in spite of challenges.
parallel story line
Unfortunately, Rebecca, Amulya, and Jess weren’t able to today given the detour and the storm. However, they did meet a cute barn cat in the process, and Jess enjoyed some Dollar General Go-Go Squeeze.
Our hosts, Janet, Orvin, and their son John, are wonderful. They cooked us spaghetti, rhubarb and mulberry pie (the mulberries are from the tree in their front yard), and garlic bread. I ate my body weight in angel hair pasta. I can still feel dinner like a rock in my stomach. My food coma awaits. Overall, today was among the slowest yet most exhausting days so far in Spokes.
There's no cherry on top, but there are mulberries. I appreciate our team's grittiness. Cleo competed with the rain and won. Then, she camped out at a Papa John's and searched Newton street by street for our hosts' house. JD and Hank were face down in a ditch while lightning struck by the dozens. Thirty minutes later, we were back on our bikes, blasting music, finishing the ride. Every storm passes, and interestingly, even the memory of the storm passes. Somehow, the statelessness of this adventure, not knowing what's coming next, whether it's flooding, lightning, talking cats, or key lime yogurt, makes enduring easy. And importantly, gratitude.
the video from the ditch is wild
Y'all are wild. It was definitely the right call to seek shelter. I remember the storms moving so fast in Kansas. Keep those eyes on the sky! You're doing great! -Lucy
Damn that is so crazy. We just kept riding 😭