There she was, long and hot again, my road US-36. I got up and was walking around 8 or 8:30 that morning and ambled quite a ways under the glaring Kansas sun. Forever and ever there were no towns, no trees, barely even shade most of the time. At each of my breaks I would usually walk an extra mile after deciding to stop to find a place to sit under cover from the sun. There were stops even that I’d just lean my pack against a rail guard and eat my oatmeal in as much of its shadow as I could enjoying the winds when they blew cool breezes my way, which was often enough.
Thirteen miles later I made it to Oberlin, home of the last Indian raid in Kansas. I read the little plaque then headed for the library to get some air conditioning. I got an hour on the internet there then had to go because waiting behind me was another trekker crossing the country. He was on a bike, though, going from Maine to Oregon. Chad was his name and we chatted a bit, before he went on the computer, going over different things we had with us.
I back tracked a few blocks leaving the library to hit a diner I’d seen on the way in, and at the library was told was very good, called the Frontier Café. It was excellent and I even told the cook he had the best mushroom cheeseburger and fries down 36 from there to Hiawatha. Some older ladies there came over to talk to me as they were leaving and seemed very excited that America’s youths were still out there doing something. They gave me two little cakes and $10 which I gave to my waitress.
Refilling my water and chatting some with the waitress and cook I then headed off back into the heat. I’d filled up on coffee and lemonade so I was prepared for the worst. I took only one break after town before bedding down seven miles away. Having succumb to the idea that the woods and hideaways were gone I found myself a little gully that dipped off the side of the road hiding me from headlights.
It was really a beautiful spot. The hill to the south that the road was on was a nice sound barrier for the occasional engine passing by and to the north, past a barbed wire fence, it opened up into a field that looked like it had once cradled a river the way it rolled. I wrote a bit that night then watched the storm off in the distance down that field. The lightning was so stark and straight as it silently struck the ground far off every now and again. I fell asleep to it, but was later awakened briefly around 3am to throw the cover over the tent when it started to sprinkle.