I wasn’t far from the country highway when I started down the road in the morning. Finally reaching the end of my shade I stopped and put on my sunblock before heading back out under the fiery sky. The man who’d guided me down that back road had given me specific warning that there was absolutely nothing down this highway, it was real country and there would be no businesses to feed or water me. I took this to heart having been through some of the backroads I’ve been through. In the back of my head though, I held out for a surprise.
He was right, it truly was back country livin’. There was an occasional freight train to my right that would rumble by, and fields of corn and beans to my left, but rarely any shade and never any gas stations. I did, however, pass a sky resort and that confused me greatly.
The thoughts in the back of my head were starting to feel very dejected and silly for countering the local but then something magical happened. I’d had a few glimpses of hope when a big yellow sign appeared in the distance and as I got closer showed me what number field the beans were. Another was an arrow sign with lettering on it that said there was an antique store a mile down a side road by a lake. But going around a bend shrouded by bushes suddenly before me was a building with two cars in front of it with Budweiser signs in the windows and another one that read Open.
Pat’s Steakhouse was an interesting lunch. I opened the door into a dark bar room with a light on in the back where people were doing something around a table. A little boy noticed me and pointed his mother over. I asked if they were open and she confirmed leading me to a table. I had my coffees and a burger and some fries, and all was good.
I believe it was Pat herself who came over later on and started talking with me asking what I was up to. It turned out I was the third country crosser to be in there in the past three weeks. The other two were guys on bikes, one old, one young, one nice, one grumpy, and I heard about them both.
The young one was the first one in. He sort of grumbled about not being served right away and wondering if they were even open. Pat apologized and said they were and he was welcome. Then he grumbled about the lights not being on, and Pat held her cool apologizing saying it saved on power. Then he grumbled over to the dinning area and stomped his chair when he went to sit by the window. Pat did not apologize then, she’d had enough and told him if he was gonna be like that she didn’t need him and he could peddle his ass down to Weston and threw him out.
The older one was about Pat’s age who is a spry 68. He was very cordial and gracious while he ate at her establishment. She liked him and she said she liked me too, so that goes to show you to always maintain your manners, especially when traveling.
I set off toward Atchison, KS after that and got to the bridge going over the Missouri by sometime in the mid-afternoon. It was another one of those bridges that has no walking room at all. Luckily there was a rail bridge next to it. I hopped off the road and went under the road bridge over to the rail bridge and started over looking for trains. Unfortunately I spotted the Welcome to Kansas sign in the middle of the road bridge so I snapped off a picture of it from far away unhappy that there wouldn’t be one of me standing in front of it. When I looked back in front of me there was a freight train with a light on pointing at me about a quarter mile away. That’s when I ran the rest of the bridge. When I got to the other side the train turned down a side track under the road bridge just to mock the success of my needless escape.
So now I was in Kansas. I went to a gas station and found out where a library was then stayed there until it closed and they kicked me out. From there I got a map and went to Walmart for food which I had none of.
There was a Walmart and a Country Mart and behind them both was a hill covered with trees that would be perfect to camp out in. I went into both stores to get everything I needed and then got myself some canned beef stew and a half gallon of juice for the night. I made my way into the back woods, set up camp, and got the stove all set for my lavish dinner when I realized my Swiss Army knife that had the can opener on it was in my cousin’s car back in Massachusetts. I wandered back into Walmart and picked up a four dollar cheapy thing that is actually much more handy. After stuffing myself I fell asleep.