Day 27 - 277 Miles

Destination: Farther East

Today was a blast. I followed my Cushman friends to the La Junta Community Center for biscuits-n-gravy. Tom, who seemed to be heading up this shindig warmly greeted me. Kind of seriously, he told me I was welcome to ride with them, but I'd have to ride at the back of the pack. I told him I was used to that by now. He was amused.

I got a cordial greeting from everyone, and was told the last Vespa to show up at one of their meets got toilet papered. I knew I was in for a fun day. I was one of the youngest in the room, and I'll be on AARP's radar in just a few short years.

The scooter games started right after breakfast before it got too hot. First there was riding the board, but this board was actually two ropes that were moved closer together with every pass. I made it to the third round before I was disqualified. Next up was the newspaper toss. Apparently as kids, some of these guys used to deliver newspapers on their Cushmans. All the rules seemed to bend in several directions. Last up was the slow race. Two scooters race each other to a finish line. The last one to cross the line without dumping it or putting a foot down wins.

Next up was a 70 mile circuit that took us through town, out into the country, through Rocky Ford for lunch at the Sonic Burger and on to other destinations. The pack of scooters broke into two groups so traffic trying to pass would not be so bad. Not that there was that much traffic. I blocked a few intersections for them until they got out of town, and on to the straight away. I sped past the growling scooters a few times to catch some action photos of the ride.

We stopped at a scenic outlook to the Santa Fe Trail. You could see for miles and miles. I stuck with the pack for the journey to Sonic Burger. We got almost up to 40mph one or two times there. Think Richard Farnsworth in 'The Straight Story'. You know, the guy who drives a riding lawnmower from Iowa to Wisconsin in back in 1994.

These have to be some of the finest folks around. They've come from Kansas, New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah to have some fun on their Cushmans. Some of their scooters are incredible restorations, rat bikes, hot rods, you name it. One soul popped her chain early on, and a guy with a fouled plug and sticky throttle cable made for a longer than usual lunch stop. I decided to bid farewell after lunch and continue on my journey.

Thanks to all you Cushman folks. I had a ball with you today. I hastily put together some video my digital camera takes:

Not far past Lamar, the landscape really flattens out. I found an old school house named after me, and saw my first longhorn cattle in the flesh. I figure carrying around those horns is a pain in the neck.

Kansas is well, um...flat. Sort of the anti-Deals Gap: 11 turns in 318 miles. And aromatic too: coming soon to a dinner table near you. Feed lots as far as the eye can see. Depending on which way the wind is blowing, I could sniff out a feed lot four or five miles away.

Near Cimmaron, there was a road block due to an accident ahead. Traffic was being detoured on a dirt road. The EMS guys nicely gave me another route on paved roads to the next town with a gas station. I was running perilously low on fuel. It didn't help that I saw endless wind farms far away and wanted to take a few pix. Resembling crosses in a graveyard at a distance, they majestically churn the air into electricity. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: What's the big deal with those folks in Craven County that want to put up their wind generators on their own property? I just don't get what the problem is.

I got a whiff of Dodge City about 10 miles out. I've been here a few hours now, and I don't even smell it any more.

A really big show today: