Mood:  a-ok

Today, I will be traveling to Little River, Kansas, the birth place of my mother.  Every year, my family vacation would consist of traveling from Indiana to Kansas, and one of the annual stops would be at Riverview Farm, near Little River.  My grandfather has long since passed away, but my cousin, Ed Hodgson, still lives in the original house where my mother was raised.

The ride today would be easy, only 42-44 miles, so there is no reason to get too early of a start.  My plan was to stop in Lyons, Kansas, for a bite to eat, then call another cousin, Kendall Hodgson, once I got ready to depart Lyons for Little River.  The possibility existed that he and one or two of his kids might meet me a couple of miles from the farm, and ride with me for a while.

The weather was going to be hot, in the mid-90's, and very windy, with the wind coming from the south.  As I loaded up the bike, even though it was only a little after 7 AM, the wind was already blowing over 10 miles per hour.  I started pedalling.

The wind was such that I rarely went over 12 mph, and normally went 10-11.  The countryside was really pretty.  There are lots and lots of trees now.  Not forests, but one could look around in a full circle and would see the horizon as treed.

Lyons, KS, has fond memories for me.  It had a quaintness about it in the past.  It had a city block in the middle of town surrounded by shops.  The center block held some municipal buildings.  it was still charming.  I asked a local where I could find a cafe.  They directed me to Subway, Sonic Drive In, and Wendy's.  I said that I was looking to eat inside, so they directed me to Dairy Queen.  Sigh.  I guess all the normal cafes were gone.  Welcome to Dairy Queen.

As i was eating, I heard a voice say "Hey, Will!".  It was my cousin, Kendall.  His schedule got turned around and he found himself, along with his son Tanner, in Lyons.  They started looking at the restaurants for my bike.  It is hard to miss. We chatted for a while, then I got on the road again.   I decided to stop in the town of Little River and get another bite to eat.

Little River is a mile off the main highway.  The main street still has laid brick.  It was much better and more vibrant than I remembered.  The electronic readerboard was touting the fact that Cheri's Restairant was now open on Fridays from 6:30 AM to 11 AM.  Apparently Cheri had suffered from a stroke but was starting to recover.   

Leaving Little River was an uphill climb into a 20+ mph headwind, but soon I was on the main road again.  Two miles east then turning south.  Finally there was Riverview Farm!  It was just as I remembered it.  It was a living postcard, absolutely beautiful.  With Ed still working in the fields, I wandered throughout the house, then the outbuildings and grounds. 

The big barn was built in 1901, after the old barn burned down.  This was the site of my accident which resulted in my permanent hearing loss on the left side.  I had fallen to the floor off a plank bridge that connected the haylofts.   The barn though large, was mostly unused.  Farming has changed and the barn is now unnecessary.

When Ed got home, he still had work to do, so he sent me out to ride in the combine with Randall Olander, the husband of my cousin Alice Ann.  He was harvesting the last of his wheat.  There was a little jump seat next to his, and it was fascinating to experience this overgrown lawn mower do its job.  Of course, it doesn't just cut the wheat.  Internally, it separates the wheat from the chaff, dispelling the chaff, and retaining the wheat grain.  When the wheat bin is near full, then a buzzer goes off indicating that the bin needs to be emptied.  Randall operated the machine as if it were a part of his body, which comes from harvesting 1,000 acres year after year.  When I learned that the jump seat's official title is trainee's seat, then I decided to put myself out for hire.  Alas, the harvest season is over.

A recent interesting farming philosophy is "no till" farming.  These farmers do not cultivate the soil, and have special implements to plant the seeds into the uncultivated soil.  As I understand it, the philosophy is that each handful of soil is a complex group of microbes, some of which are lost or killed when the soil is turned.  Left on it's own, untilled, the soil is more robust, less likely to loose it's topsoil, and will, over time produce better yields.  One doesn't need to spend money on a cultivator, doesn't need to wear down the tractor cultivating, or spend the time or fuel in tilling.  As I looked over at an area that had already been cut, a baby oppossum climbed out of a hole and started ambling across the field.  I commented that the animals must like the "no till" theory also.   The flip side is that many very good farmers still till, and do a great job, producing good yields.  So the jury is still out in the farming community, but it was interesting to listen to the theory.

The next two days will be spent in Little River before continuing my journey east.  I'll be leaving early Monday morning.  Tuesday afternoon i should arrive in Manhatten, KS. 

Will McMahan