I loved everything about our hosts in Kansas City except for one small thing: the Creepiest Painting I've Ever Seen. It took the breath out of all of us while we passed it to drop our bikes off in the hallway. Derrick was, in fact, speechless.
So there's this clown. You know he's a clown only because he has clown makeup and a bowler hat on. Other than that, from the neck down, he's dressed like Carl from "Aqua Teen Hunger Force". For those of you who don't want to run that image search, we're basically talking sweaty, hairy, pot-bellied dude in a wife-beater. And he has clown makeup on.
The scene: Carl the Clown is sitting on a cloud in what I can only assume is Clown Heaven. The clouds are puffy white collections of the faces of other clowns, and two Clown-angels are attaching wings to Carl's back.
Somewhere my Mom is screaming.
I honestly went into Kansas City with pretty low expectations but found myself incredibly surprised. As it turns out KC has a lot of What's Good, and also a healthy amount of Good People. Our two Build Days with KC's Habitat were the team's very favorite Build Days thus far. We drove over after sleeping in 'til 7 and met the staff, then meandered over to the work shop and got to work. We spent those two days constructing walls from scratch, which is some of the most satisfying/team-oriented construction work you can ask for. There's something for everyone: wood-cutting, hammering, measuring, and as a cherry on top people have to cooperate as a giant lift to push the wall up to a standing position.
So the work was in and of itself fun, but so was everything else about those Build Days. We were in a shady workshop, which was truly a blessing considering the heat index in KC jumped to 105 by noon both days. Also, there was delicious barbecue. Also, there was an adorable puppy named Daisy. Daisy's owner was the foreman, a big burly dude with a big burly personality named Jeff. Jeff was huge, bald, bearded, muscled, and his hands and mind were worked raw from decades of construction work. The kind of guy you go fishing with, or to a biker bar. He was eager to meet everyone on the team and got a big kick out of all of us, and we, in turn, got a big kick out of him. With Jeff's excitement and our sheer man-power we accomplished a considerable amount. We threw up all the walls for the first story of a house, with enough time left over for an epic impromptu dance-party in the workshop and time to construct two respectable dog houses for the future resident's pets.
So in summary our building time was a hoot, and, as I wound up saying in a speech to our hosts during a presentation that night, it really reaffirms my commitment to this trip and my general faith in humanity and service.
And KC didn't stop being awesome once we got off site. Emily, always the charmer, made some calls and managed to score the entire team free tickets to a Kansas City Royals baseball game. Now, normally I'm not a huge Royals fanatic, nor a huge follower of baseball, nor, to carry on, a big sports fan, but I am a huge fan of free things, and that night solidified my notions that there is a profound difference between just watching a game on TV and actually attending it.
Our seats were great. We were right behind home plate, and just high enough to be able to see the entire field but not so high up that we couldn't see the ball. Zach, who actually *is* a huge baseball fan, said we were in the ideal spot because that's where all the kids sit, and kids get really into baseball. It was really a perfect baseball experience, and we hit all the stops. Those of age got beers, those not of age got hot dogs. it was a perfect temperature and the sky over the field was a perfect shade of orange as the sunset. I bought a KC Royals hat and I must say I look darn good in it. The air was filled with cheers, the sounds of the game, and that iconic organ. There was a 7th inning stretch featuring a stadium-wide sing-along to "I've Got Friends In Low Places". Zach and I got goofy and came up with some fantastic commentary to yell out to the players. We couldn't stop laughing at the name of one of the Royals, Scott Podsednik, who incidentally hit a homer which led to the Royals actually winning the game. It's been almost three days now and almost every time we see each other we still yell "Podsednik!"
Scott Podsednik. What a hero.
Our second night the team had a Town Hall meeting, which is *supposed* to be when we heir grievances and work out team business, but, in the nature of everything else CUS'10 does, we've turned it into something fun and happy. My new favorite team tradition, second only to the 20 seconds of '80s dancing we do in the mornings, are the Warm Fuzzies we read during Town Hall meetings. We keep a box in the van in which anyone can write a supportive message to anyone else on the team, and all of them are read aloud. There are many snaps, many laughs, many hugs, and many tender moments. I'm such a sucker for it, you don't even know.
I'm also a huge sucker for our KC hosts, who planned to pray for each of us individually today. So sweet.
And we definitely needed it, for today's ride will live in infamy.
I don't think it's possible for a route to turn so many times on its own head as the one from KC to Lawrence did today. The madness started right away when we hopped on to the Indian Creek biking trail. We were all stoked for it, because according to the local yokels it was paved and beautiful. They we right in these regards, but I seriously doubt it was really designed with bikers in mind, or at least bigger bikers like myself. The turns are sharp and blind. mega-steep climbs creep up on you in a second. Also, it apparently had flooded about a week ago, so not only were we dealing with the sudden trail spasms, but we also spent a good deal of the morning dodging downed trees, patches of mud, and fish which had washed up onto the path. There really was no room for goofing off or losing focus as we weaved through all those obstacles as well as all the other pedestrians on the trail. But, with all that being said, it really was a great time, because my team is full of crazies. At one point I was in a pace-line about 20 strong, and the air was peppered with songs, chants, and animal noises as we worked our way through that shady obstacle course.
Lunch came up on us earlier than my body expected. I filled up on Triscuit crackers and rolled out in relatively short time because we were hearing rumors about a storm system coming right for us from across the prairie.
The entire nature of the route abruptly changed after lunch, going from hectic suburban park trail to a nasty, dusty, hilly, miserable stretch of gravel. Everyone was hurtin' from the gravel, and it shook all of us up thoroughly, but we had no choice but to carry on for, lo and behold, right over the horizon was the storm that would turn that gravel into an unrideable river of mud.
As for the storm itself, probably one of the most dramatic scenes from my entire life. I understand I'm prone to exaggeration on this blog but, for real, that cloud was the epitome of ominous visuals. It was a deeper, darker gray than the freshly paved road we were riding on, and it cut across the beautiful blue sky, turning what was otherwise a lovely Kansas afternoon into a scene from Revelations. Jen rode with me (which always seems to be the case when the elements rage), and only added to the apocalyptic nature of the scene when she told me that this was exactly out of a dream she had not but 3 or 4 days ago. She said she'd dreamed that we were all fighting through an epic Kansas storm, and that it was the one thing on the trip she was most scared would happen.
I did my best to be reassuring. We did some deep breathing. We sang the Wicked Witch's theme from the Wizard of Oz. But mostly we gazed in silent wonder at the system raging just over our heads. The system had coagulated into one massive, coal-black cloud, which stretched out in all directions like a flood of smoke. In every direction, right along the edge, we could see the clear day, but the distance and light-bending made it look as if in each direction there was a great wall of orange flame. A cold front swept through and we immediately started chattering.The prairie was silent, save for the breeze, which was eerily calm. I've rarely felt so small and vulnerable. It was like in a fairy tale where the hero has to sneak past the sleeping giant to escape to safety.
And of course it would be right when we were working through this system that the team got detoured. A man on a motorcycle, coming from the opposite direction, flagged us down and told us that the bridge ahead was out, so we worked out a detour which would add about 10 miles to our route. As a full team we hammered across the prairie, when the storm seemed to finally make up its mind. Thunder in the distance grew louder and louder. Then there was the drizzle. Then there was the rain. Then there was the heavy rain that wailed on our skin like hail. In 2 minutes we were soaked to the marrow, and the cloud fanned out to engulf the entire skyline, leaving us with no apparent end in sight.
We soldiered on for as long as that remained a good idea, which wasn't terribly long. A lighting strike in a field just over from us led to Jen, Sarah W and I deciding to take shelter on the porch of a prairie house. We knocked on the door and were greeted by two little girls, alone on a summer afternoon, who were all too enthusiastic to get us out of the rain. They brought us towels and RC Colas, and let us play with their adorable puppies, which their dog had given birth to about two months prior.
Puppies make everything better.
Eventually we flagged down Jesse, Kristen, and Derrick, and Derrick kept us laughing with his commentary on the storm and his extrapolations. We played with puppies until the brunt of the storm subsided.
Back on the road, in no more than 5 minutes, we then found ourselves in the middle of the most beautiful prairie summer day imaginable.
I've never been to Kansas before, but *this* was the Kansas I always imagined. The colors were soft and warm. As Sarah said, the sky was so pretty it looked fake. The horizon was speckled with barns and windmills, and the road, flat and wide, stretched out for as far as the eye could see.
This is how we were greeted when we rolled into Lawrence. Satisfied with the day and thoroughly exhausted, I napped a mighty nap.
As far as what's good in Lawrence: lots. After my nap I wandered out with Mark, Caroline and Laura to the bike shop because the day's ride convinced me it would be wise to invest in a good raincoat in case Kansas had any more curveballs to throw at us. The shop we hit up, Cycle Works, wound up being easily the coolest bike shop I've been in. Usually when I'm in a bike shop I just feel overwhelmed and under-qualified. I'm biking across the country, yes, but I'm still very much a cycling noob, and that's hard to hide in an all-cycling environment. But this place didn't have that same intense atmosphere. It was more the kind of shop I'd run: casual but knowledgeable and friendly. The shop itself was a celebration of cycling culture, with all sorts of awesome old bikes and bike art decorating the walls. It was like a museum, and Gary, the kindly old moustachio'd manager, was like the curator. I really appreciated the windchime made from bike frame pieces outside, and the toilet paper roll made from a bike fork in the bathroom. The store had one of the cycles used in the '96 summer olympics hanging from the ceiling. There was also this amazing old bike from the '50s that can only be described, aesthetically, as the Bike of Tomorrow. It was jet black and weird and curvy, like a bike George Jetson would ride.
Gary also showed us a ten-speed he made for a little person who used to work as the janitor at the old location. It really was I think a simultaneous testament to Gary's knowledge and to the friendship he'd made with that man. The bike was a complete custom job, built entirely from scratch from individually ordered parts. The janitor had apparently asked him a long time ago to build him a ten-speed, and, when it was finished, that man would do rides in it from Lawrence to Kansas City and Topeka. Unfortunately, the man eventually was diagnosed with cancer and passed, but he left eh bike with Gary and asked him to save it for another little person some day. It's a story that really just melted my heart. People are awesome.
Now I'm back at the high school gym in which we're staying tonight. It's close to bed and the team is split right down the middle between the group that's trying to get rest for the 100-miler we have tomorrow, and the folks who're too excited to sleep. I want to bring my A-game to tomorrow's ride, so I think I'll join the former, but I'll compromise by eavesdropping a little.
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