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

Mood:  a-ok

Before going to sleep last night, I studied the maps for today's journey.  I wanted to make motel reservations in Rush Center.  It was going to be a long ride, 75-80 miles, on Friday, so I didn't want to have to waste time breaking camp.  I just wanted to go.

Unfortunately, as I read the map (this is the map put out by the American Cycling Association, which lists motels and camping facilities available in a particular town.) I noticed for the first time that there were no motels in Rush Center, my destination for the night.  Purusing further, there was camping but no bathrooms were available.  Hmm, that won't work.  But there is a town 4.5 miles north of Rush Center that has motels.  Of course this means the 64 mile ride becomes a 68.5 mile ride, and Friday's long ride gets extended by 4.5 miles.  Oh well, I thought as I nodded off, I guess that is what I'll have to do.

I woke sharply at 4 AM, and an idea had been planted in my head:  what was available past Rush Center.  So I turned on the lamp, opened the map, and studied the possibilities.  They were slim--but wait!  If I got an early start, and had the help of a little tailwind, I might be able to get to Great Bend.  It was 32 miles further, but, of course, that would shorten the next day's ride by 32 miles. 

Let's try it!  After devotions, I packed hurriedly, had something of a homemade breakfast, and was on the road before 5:30 AM.  It was dark.  My eyes adjusted well to the darkness, and I turned on both rear flashing lights to warn approaching motorists.  Only 2 passed me before sunrise.

It was surprisingly breezy for that time of the morning, but the wind was coming from the southwest.  Since I was headed east, that meant that the breeze would push me a bit.  How long would that last?

The land is beautiful.  It is very flat with long rolling hills, but not steep or high ones.   You can see the next town 5-8 miles off by its grain elevators.  The dark green of the corn and milo contrast sharply with the tawny wheat stubble left by the recent harvest.  Trees in the distance indicate a farm somewhere back off the road, or it could be a stream.  Two deer, startled by my presence, bound off through the fields.

The first town that would have food was 32 miles away.  A little after 8 AM, I pulled into town and asked a gentleman where a person might get a good breakfast.  He pointed at a seedy looking bar called the Cactus Club.  I thanked him, then rode on, once he wasn't looking.  Not finding anything else, I returned to the Cactus Club, and sure enough they did have breakfast, and it was good.

My next plan was to stop in Alexander, 20 miles further, to get a burger and fries, then stop again in Rush Center, 12 miles past Alexander, and have another burger and fries (this is part of my trying to increase my caloric intake so that I may start gaining weight back that I had lost).  It  was a great plan, and I'm sure it would have worked if Alexander had a restaurant.  Since it didn't (it used to have one), I kept pedalling for Rush Center.

The picking were slim for eateries in Rush Center.  It, like many others, is quite small--you pass through it with the blink of an eye (even on a bicycle).  My theory is to look for a bunch of vehicles, and I found them by this bar.  That's where I had this huge lunch.   When I left, with another coat of sunscreen 45 slapped on, it was a couple of minutes past noon. 

Okay, I was tired, but it was only another 32 miles.  Even if the wind changed, I should be able to do that with my eyes closed.  Don't think about 96 miles.  Just focus on the next 32. 

As luck would have it, the terrain changed.  Larger, longer hills began to crop up, with long slow (6-7 mph) climbs, then quick descents followed by another long slow climb.  This was starting to take its toll when suddenly the longer hills decided they had had enough of me and things flattened out nicely. 

The landscape, however, was changing.  It was hilly enough to not see so far, and there were lots of trees.  In addition to wheat, corn and milo, farmers had planted different crops.  One, which from a distance looked almost like lavender, and had a purple hue, had a heavenly scent.  The patchwork quilt of different colored crops, bordered by the wild sunflowers, was really a pretty sight.

The road to Great Bend curved slowly southward.  I knew this and suspected that it would mean that I'd lose my tailwind.  I did.  It started to slow me down, not that I needed much encouragement because of fatigue.  The last ten miles or so were at 7-8 mph.  I didn't care, because I knew that I was almost at a stopping point.  The winds were getting rambunctious, gusting in the 20-30 mph range.  It was well because the outside temperature was 96 degrees.  The wind kept me cool-but I was sensitive to keeping properly hydrated.

One sad thing about undertaking this journey across America is that I am forced to miss the McMahan Family Reunion in Tennessee.  It starts today.  Because school starts in August back there, they had to schedule it in July.  I may not be at the reunion in person, but rest assured that I am there in spirit.

Tomorrow should now be a relatively short day (I still can't believe how many miles I have had to pedal this last week!), and I will arrive in Little River.  My cousin, Kendall Hodgson, may come out with one or two of his sons to ride the last several miles with me (I think he suspects I might get lost :-).

A cool indoor swimming pool is beckoning.  Then lots of food.  I want to be on the road before 7 AM.  It lessens the risk of the uncertain wind.  Its a bit cooler too.

Will McMahan

Mood:  chatty

Your blog address was posted in Sunday's bulletin so thought I would check it out and see how you were doing.  I couldn't stop reading...I'm exhausted reading about your trek, I cannot imagine how you are doing this.  We are really enjoying your pictures - its nice to travel vicariously wiht you.  You are incredible and we admire your discipline.  We miss you at church and talk about you and this amazing journey you are on!  We are very familiar with CO's National Park, the Visitor Center at the top, Estes Park, and Boulder so it was neat to "travel" with you on that leg.  Am wondering if we will know the places you pass/visit while in the Mid-West.  Please know you are in our hearts and prayers.  Everything is fine back here at home, well as fine as it can be without your bright shiny face!  Many hugs, Terry (& Clay)

Mood:  a-ok

Because everything was packed last night, I slept in until 5:30 AM.  This still gave me time to have devotions, etc., and still arrive at the Chatterbox Cafe at 6 AM sharp.  Rains were forecast to the south.  There was no word about the wind direction.  Another headwind would be miserable.  The good news is that there were several sizable towns between Tribune and Dighton (sizable means over 500 people, which means a high likelihood of a restaurant.

I hit the road to a beautiful blue sky with wispy clouds.  Soon a rhythm developed to my pedalling.  Miles started going by.  It looked like I was not going to be luck and have a tailwind today, but as I headed east, the light wind came at an angle from the northeast and only slowed me down a little.  Speeds were 11-12 mph.  That would get me to Dighton at a reasonable hour.

Twenty two miles down the road was the town of Leoti.  I had a short stack of pancakes and coffee there, then back on the road, feeling pretty good.

Wait a minute.  Something's wrong.  The wind isn't coming from the northeast anymore.  In the half hour that I was in the restaurant the wind had changed and was now coming from the southeast.  Maybe if it kept going around, it would get behind me and blow me into Dighton.  I don't think so.  Like before, the force and angle of the wind slowed me somewhat but not significantly. 

In another 24 miles was Scott City, and I reached it by noon.  Actually, I lost an hour (or was it a gain?) because at the first county line, I went from MST to CST, so it was now an hour later.  Nevertheless, the ride was going smoothly.  Having said that, Scott City has a bunch of giant stock yard operations  around, and, boy, they really stink.  So the ride was smooth but stinky, around Scott City anyway.

The final 24 miles went great.  That means that, yes, the wind started to shift around so that it was coming from the southwest, and that gave me a boost, speedwise.  I was only going 13 mph, but, being tired, I wasn't pedally nearly so hard.  It was almost relaxing.  If only tomorrow and Friday could be that way.

Tomorrow is a 60 m/l mile ride to Rush Center, then an 80 miler to Little River, to the house that my mother was raised in.  I can't wait.  I hope the weather cooperates and that my body holds up.  The 80 miler will be the seventh straight day of pedalling.  But, I will also be able to relax for a couple of days with relatives. 

For now, I need to get to my motel (I wonder what this one will be like?), shower, eat and sleep.  I need to get up an hour earlier tomorrow to compensate for the time change.

Will McMahan

Mood:  a-ok

Today's ride to Tribune, KS, would be 58 miles, and relatively flat.  It looked for all the world like this would be a relatively easy day, if the weather cooperated.  The only potential tricky part is that there would be no services at all between Eads and Tribune.  I still had some food, including one of Joan Mikkelsen's super duper PB&J sandwiches.

To put the odds in my favor, I was packed and ready to go by 6:30 AM, which is the time the cafe opened next door.  A large breakfast later, I set out on the road.  Things were going fine, decent speeds, little traffic. 

Two bicyclers, a father and son team, caught up with me and we chatted, while pedalling.  They were on their way to Delaware.  The son would pedal until dark, typically 120 miles.  The dad would quit at 100, and mom would pick him up.  More power to them, but it didn't sound like much fun.

Two bicyclers (the first of five separate twosomes that day) going in the opposite direction pulled over to talk a bit. They were from Indianapolis.  The next two were from Belgium.  Then Chicago.  The husband of this group competed on the show "The Biggest Loser" and was now a high demand motivational speaker.  He is one of the few cyclists who admitted that riding cross country is difficult.

At any rate, after all of these social stops, the wind had started to pick up, and, unfortunately, it developed into a moderate headwind.  This not only resulted in a reduced speed, averaging 8 mph, but I had to pedal harder than normal just to maintain that pace.  It was terribly fatiguing.

But I am now in Kansas, the home state of my parents, and numerous relatives!  I love Kansas!

After checking into another one my quality motels, I needed food.  A burger, fries and shake later, I headed for the library to update this journal.  It was closed.  Oh, look.  There is a museum!  I love museums, so I went to it.  It was closed. 

The grocery store was open, however.  This was my first real opportunity to fix some high calorie snack foods.  I bought tortilla shells, peanut butter and jelly.  This would become my foil towards the weight reduction that I had been experiencing.  In addition, I bought a cold orange and a 1 1/2 liter bottle of green tea.  The orange was delicious, and I re-hydrated with the tea.

Still hadn't showered yet, but took the time to call Karen.  Afterward, I fell into a deep sleep, waking around 5:30 PM.   The town of Tribune, I'm sure, would have thrown me out if I didn't shower, so shower I did.

This was a somewhat dis-spiriting day because of the slow tiring pace.  Tomorrow, however is another day (where have I heard that before?).  It had better be.  It was a 70 mile ride, ending in a town called Dighton.  Just in case, I decided to leave early.  So I packed everything up and filled all the water containers.  I wanted to be at the cafe at 6 AM tomorrow morning.

Will McMahan

Mood:  a-ok

There are two options for the next two days:  Ride a 65 miler today, and a 80 miler Tuesday;  Or ride a 85 miler today and a 60 miler Tuesday.  I had a democratic vote, after getting up, and the majority of voters decided unanimously for option #1.   Listening to the weather reports, it looks like more thunderstorms this afternoon, so an early start will be needed.  

My strategy for today is to eat for breakfast whatever is offered by the motel, then stop again down the road at Hugo, CO, for a second breakfast.  Then try to get to Kit Carson.

The plan seemed to be working splendidly.  A waffle, orange juice and coffee later, I was on the road by 7:15 AM.  Hopefully, I could get nestled in to a room in Kit Carson before the weather got choatic.  Seventeen miles later, I arrive in Hugo, the last town before Kit Carson, and, guess what?  They had a restaurant open!  (This should be a reasonable expectation, but those that have been reading this journal know that, as often as not, things don't work out as expected.)  The waitress asked where I was going today.  I said "Kit Carson."  She questioned whether there would be any rooms available, what with all the road construction going on.  The contractors were taking a large percentage of rooms.  I called a motel from the restaurant, and reserved their last room.  Two eggs, a slice of ham, hash browns, orange juice and coffee later, I was on the road again. 

The road was wide with a huge, smooth shoulder to ride on.  The elevation was still dropping, and I was making surprisingly good time.  That is, until I got to a road construction project 5 miles outside of Kit Carson.  It looked like a long delay, then the supervisor came over and loaded up my bike and gear.  He took me all the way into Kit Carson.  It was a couple of minutes past noon, and I already had 65 miles under my belt.  Maybe this would be the day that I did the 80+ miles.   I'll decide after lunch.  A big lunch.

I decided.  I would press on 20 more miles to the next town, Eads, CO.  If the weather would be nice, then it should not be a problem, and tomorrow would be much more managable.  I cancelled the motel reservation I had made earlier.

Just like before, I was going faster than normal.  To my front left I could see two major thunderstorms dropping their loads.  It looked like I might miss them.  To my right was the weather system of thunderstorms headed my way.  It seemed unlikely that they could get here before I covered the 20 miles.

The most unique thing happened.  Nothing.  That is right!  The thunderstorms stayed a couple of miles to my left, and the storm front to my right took to long to be a factor.  I arrived in Eads at 2:30 PM.  A mileage record!  85 miles (with 5 of them in the back of the contractor's pickup truck) and snuggled into a room by 2:30 PM.  Oh, wouldn't it be nice if this were how it always worked out!

Tomorrow, I cross into Kansas to a town called Tribune.  It is around 60 miles from Eads.  The weather is supposed to be similar to today, then temperatures are supposed to climb into the mid-90's.  All the more reason to start early in the morning.  I'll try to be out of here before 7:30 AM.

Will McMahan

It was a delight for Peggy & Alan Ogden, Joan and I to have dinner with Will twice once in Boulder (7/4/08) and in Castle Pines Village (7/5/08).  It has been 40 years since Alan and I had seen Will.  Alan, Will and I are fraternity brothers--Phi Kappa Psi.

G. Mikkelsen

Mood:  a-ok

Being the expert map readers that we are, Greg Mikkelsen, Al Ogden and I decided that Limon, CO, would be my next stop.  It was only 50 miles east, a nice respite from a hard 72 miler yesterday.

Being the wonderful host and hostess that they were, Greg and Joan gave me a terrific send off.  Joan had laundered my clothing,  cooked a marvelous breakfast and prepared two PB &J's for snacking.  Greg mostly talked (One can see who does the most work in that household!).  Greg escorted me out to the exterior gate (I think he really wanted to make sure that he was rid of me), and then we gave our goodbyes.   The Mikkelsens really were fun and nice and generous and just good people.

The plan today was to get a reasonably early start, attend church on the way, ride a bit, eat lunch, then ride the rest of the way to Limon. 

But first a confession:  I had mentioned earlier about how much I eat.  I eat alot.  I eat almost anything and everything--in quantity.  So it proved to be interesting when I arrived in Estes Park earlier, to find a set of scales in the bathroom.  Since I am a calorie-burning machine, I thought it would be ironic if I ended up weighing more now than when I left Everett.  I stepped on the scales, and stared in disbelief:  I had lost 12 pounds!   I am not sure that I had 12 pounds to lose, but this means that I have to focus on consuming even more calories than I had, primarily during breaks and rest stops.  Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to implement this new strategy yesterday because I had to make my luncheon appointment with Waunita and Stan, and my dinner appointment with the Mikkelsens and Ogdens.  Today, however, was going to be different.   Today I was going to make better use of my breaks and start increasing my caloric input.

First things first.  I wanted to find a place to worship.  The first church that I found having their service would be the one I would stop at (assuming that they had no objections to my bicycling apparel).  The closest town was Castle Rock, and I had to go through it on the way to Limon.  Just inside the city limits, I came across a nice little church called Mt. Zion Lutheran Church, and they were wonderfully welcoming to this oddly-clad stranger.  The pastor, Rev. Zeigler, gave a good sermon. There were treats afterward, and then I was on my way.  

It seems that all towns in Colorado have steep hills on each side to climb.  Castle Rock is no exception (actually it makes sense that the towns were started where the ground was level, and where the streams ran through.  I'm just complaining).  It was a long climb out of town.  Cresting the top I saw another drop, followed by another climb.  Cresting it showed another, and another, forever and ever, seemingly.  It was very slow going.  At noon, I was only 15 miles out of Castle Rock, and I had lunch.  Pulling back onto the road, someone yelled something friendly to me, so I pulled over, and a car followed me to the side.  It was Pastor Zeigler from Mt. Zion Lutheran.  It seems he has not one, but two churches, and he was returning from the second.  We had a nice chat for 15 minutes.  Then back to the road.  

A road sign appeared:   52 miles to Limon, 45 miles to I-70.  So much for our ability to read maps.  Actually, maybe we can read them just fine--its the adding up the mileage that is beyond our abilities.  At any rate, my 50 mile easy day was now going to be somewhere in the low 70's.

As I promised earlier, I was turning a new leaf in terms of eating.  So the first break after lunch, I pulled out half of one of the PB&Js .  Looking eastward, the sky was dark and rainy, so I put rain covers over my ponchos and got my rain jacket and pants ready if needed.  As I rode further east, the dark clouds seemed to move away and it soon became apparent that I had dodged that bullet.

This was going to be a long day.  The climbing was taxing, and the mileage just was adding up very slowly.  After riding for some thirty miles, I noticed, in my bicycle mirrors, darkening clouds to the west.  They were coming my way.

After a while, I took another break.  It lasted two minutes.  Just as I put a handful of Trail Mix in my mouth, I heard the low rumble of thunder, so I jumped on the bike and took off.

The problem is that I had now entered a sort of "no man's land".  There would be no services until I got to I-70.  Therefore, I had to stay ahead of the storm if possible.  Understand, it was not the rain that concerned me.  It was the lightning.  

It became a sort of slow motion race between me and the dark clouds.  I was destined to lose somewhat, but the ground began to get more level, the hills not quite so difficult.  So I became able to bike a bit faster than earlier.  Even so the clouds caught up with me and I started to feel a light rain.  This went on for the next 25 miles.  I was just ahead of the heavy part of the rain.

I made an executive decision: when I got to I-70, I would get a room there instead of going the extra seven miles to Limon.  Besides, I was getting very tired. 

At last, I reached I-70!  It was empty.  There were no services at the interchange.  In fact, there were no roads connecting me to Limon except I-70.  It was only a little after 5 PM, but the dark clouds made it seem like it was night.  Onto I-70 I went.  And I was flying!  20-25 mph average! (I  discovered in the morning that there was an elevation drop as well as a nice tailwind).  Lightning started to dance across the sky.  Two miles from Limon, a side road, paralleling I-70, appeared, and there was no fence btween it and I-70.  I coasted down the grass slope, and onto the road, then lit out for the lights ahead.  It was raining harder, but this was no time to put on my rain jacket.

I took a motel room.  As I unpacked, the heavens opened up, and a deluge of water dropped, amidst lightning and thunderous applause.  Just in time, I made it.  Very tired.  Another 72-73 mile day with lots of climbing. 

Tomorrow, weather permitting, however, should be better.  I double checked the mileage on two maps, and it was 64 miles to a town called Kit Carson (yes, that Kit Carson).  (I found that map reading was more accurate without Greg and Al helping.  Hmm.)  The elevation was decreasing so maybe I could get lucky tomorrow and get there before the projected afternoon thunderstorms arrived.  It depends on how I feel, I guess.  I'll get up early and see how it goes.  For now, I was very tired.  By 9:30 PM, I was asleep.

Will McMahan

After a wonderful, restful interlude at the home of my relatives, George and Kristin Karakehian, I bid my farewells and started, once again, the journey to Raleigh.  It is amazing how, at the rate of 50-70 miles per day, one slowly but surely makes progress.

Today has two goals in mind.  I was to meet my father's cousin, Waunita Berkman, and her husband, Stan, for lunch somewhere.  I also was to end the day at the home of one of my fraternity brothers, Greg Mikkelsen.  (Luckily for Greg, he married a terrific lady, Joan, otherwise who knows how he would have turned out :-).  The total distance was estimated at 60 miles.  The day was supposed to be hot, in the mid to upper 90's.

The oddity about this day and the next three days is that I really had no plan as to how I was going to arrive at Tribune, Kansas, on day five.  It was only the night before, at dinner, that staying at Mikkelsens became a possibility.  So the actual route was not established, unlike the first 37 days of this trip.  This made it difficult to plan a specific time to meet Stan and Waunita for lunch, although they made it easy by driving. 

There was a long climb out of Boulder, followed by other lesser hills.   I was to meet the Berkmans in Morrison, CO.  Little did I know that there was a long climb before Morrison.  It rained briefly, but hard, and then I was in town.  I arrived late, around 12:30 PM.  We had a wonderful lunch, then I had to figure out the best way to get to Greg and Joan's house.

A group of bicyclers deferred to one of their group to give directions, and she directed me to a bike trail which I followed for over 20 miles.  Unfortunately, once I got near the road that lead south to the Mikkelsens, the bike trai changed and headed north.  Also unfortunately, I didn't realize this for a while.  One lesson learned on this trip is don't be afraid to ask for help if it is necessary, so I stopped at a house whose garage doors were open, indicating someone being home.  As I started up to the door, a lady walked out of the garage.  She not only gave me directions but also filled my water bottle and gave me a spare water bottle, which was needed.  The projected 60 miles ended up being 72.

Reservations for dinner were for 6 PM.  I arrived at the Mikkelsens around 6 PM.  They had moved the reservations back to 7 PM, leaving me time to shower and change.  Another fraternity brother, Al Ogden, and his wife, Peggy, showed up, and the five of us went to this beautiful restaurant overlooking the valley, and had the feast of kings.  It was great fun reliving old times and catching up on past schoolmates.

Tomorrow, I will be heading to Limon, CO, which appears to be some 50 miles east.  I will try to worship somewhere this morning.  It will be interesting to see if my bright clothing and bike shorts give any raised eyebrows.

In three days I will be in Kansas.  Tonight, I will be approximately halfway across America.

Will McMahan

Mikkelsens have a beautiful home and I was in bed by

Will:

<> I have enjoyed following your trip.  It is an amazing journey.  I am looking foward to your visit in Manhattan.  Say hello to all the family in Colorado.

Cherie Hodgson