Sunday and still windy. Instead of blowing from the South and being warm, the wind was blowing from the North, it was overcast and in the 30’s. A front had moved through on Saturday and it had rained a bit. I knew the gravel roads would be wet, and I hate riding through sticky mud, so I mapped out a route that was mostly pavement. As I have written about before, pavement in Kansas is boring to the point of being painful. I look up and see a landmark, and it seems to take forever to get there. On gravel, I have to pay more attention, the scenery constantly changes and I don’t have to worry much about traffic, except the renegade cows.
I had been emailed by a woman about a great story I hope to have in the next issue of the Adventure Monkey magazine. She wrote about riding on the road she lived on called Diamond Creek Road. Sounds like an adventure to me, so I included it in my route. It looked to be around 80 miles total. Perfect, I needed to start doing longer rides in preparation for the Dirty Kanza.
I had adjusted the Woodchippers at home and within 8 miles into the ride I had readjusted the bar another four times trying to get it right. That added quite a bit of time and frustration to the ride so far, not to mention the wind trying to make me forget about riding and go home.
I made it to Americus, adjusted the bars for the final time and continued pedaling. I had my doubts at this point if I would finish my intended route. I had ridden in stronger winds before, but being on boring pavement in dreary cold weather added to the misery. So far, I wouldn’t say that I was enjoying myself too much.
I finally made it to Bushong, turned in to take a look and take a quick rest stop. I am not sure why this little town exists. There is nothing there except some rundown buildings and a few houses. I want to go back for some pictures of the gritty brokeness there. Here’s a few shots of the Fargo and an old bank.
I rode around the dreary town before getting back on the highway to face the headwind again.
After turning onto HWY 56 and heading West towards Council Grove, I was hoping for a reprieve from the wind, but to no avail. The wind wasn’t completely a North wind, but was coming in from a Northwesterly angle. That meant I had a strong crosswind that wanted to blow me into traffic along with a slight headwind. It didn’t make for easy pedaling. This would all be easier to handle on a scenic gravel road, but on the boring pavement, it was becoming quite a chore.
I made it to Council Grove and stopped for another potty break. I bought a Snickers because they are delicious and refilled my water. I had two liters of nuun enhanced water left along with two water bottles with plain water. It wasn’t hot out, so I figured I’d be fine.
I had mapped the route out and knew I would have to pedal West out of Council Grove to find Road 2200. I didn’t write down or recall how far that was, but Road 2200 would lead me to Diamond Creek Road. Having a mileage goal helps me keep going to reach that next mark. Being unsure about how far I have to go makes it worse for me when the going gets tough.
HWY 56 has pleasant rolling hills just West of Council Grove, but I would be lying if I said I thought they were pleasant last Sunday. I couldn’t find that zen, that perfect feeling of cycling joy. It had been more like work up to that point. Then I started feeling really negative.
I was out in the middle of nowhere some forty miles away from home spending time away from the family. Melissa had softball practice later that afternoon and I was feeling so slow, I didn’t know if I would be home in time to take her. I figured Jen would be mad at me for being gone so long too. I started doubting my run at the Dirty Kanza and wondering what I was doing on my bike in the wind anyway. Feelings of self doubt and loathing where beginning to overtake me. I was in a dark place. It was the opposite place the bike usually takes me. Cycling is very much as mental as it is physical.
I looked ahead and saw nothing but hills and I heard nothing but the wind screaming past my ears. I just looked down at the road and kept pedaling. I suddenly felt very alone. At that moment it no longer made sense to keep training for the Dirty Kanza. Giving up was making more sense. But how many times have I given up in the past? Too many to count. “Life is short, keep pedaling dammit!” I needed to get home for Melissa’s practice. I asked God himself for help out there. I think that’s why the wind kept blowing. If I made it through this dark place, I could make it through other dark places too.
Road 2100 passed by. I was close now. Finally I saw a sign ahead for Marion, Kansas and then there it was – Road 2200. I turned left and finally got off the highway. I was so relieved to have made it and to finally have the wind at my back. Without the wind blowing my face off, I warmed up. I stopped and stripped down to bare white legs and a breathable long sleeve jersey. I stuffed my bag full of clothes, bungeed my jacket to the top and got on the bike ready to start pedaling hard with the wind. That’s when it happened – pure cycling joy.
I was moving at 22-25 mph with the wind. Diamond Creek Road is one of the most curvaceous, scenic roads I have been on in this area. I was moving fast, getting off the seat to maneuver over the low maintenance section of road with ruts and exposed limestone chunks. The road meandered to and fro, up and down, through scenic old farms and rolling prairie land. I looked up and saw dark colored cows dotting the hilly landscape below a fair-weather blue sky painted with puffy clouds. It was a Kansas photographer’s paradise, but I let you down. I had shifted from photographer to cyclist at that moment, maneuvering on the gravel road maintaining control on the curves, getting out of my seat to pedal hard up the hills and hopping over bumps and jumps. Diamond Creek Road became the ride of my life. I had left that self doubting, whiny boy far behind on Highway 56. I had a softball practice to make. I set my mind on that and pedaled hard.
Leaving the camera in the bag was a first for me especially with such beautiful scenery, but I was on a mission. I definitely will go back to Diamond Creek Road for a leisurely picture taking ride this Summer. It is a great road and this ride will most likely never be forgotten.
Before Diamond Creek Road, my average speed was just over 10 mph, pretty slow. While on Diamond Creek Road, I was in the 15-25 mph range depending on the hills and curves. All in all even with the 20 or so miles after Diamond Creek Road riding East with a crosswind, I ended up averaging 12.9 mph over 85 miles, Dirty Kanza contention. I have to maintain at least a 10 mph average to finish the race. I made it back home 20 minutes before Melissa’s softball practice. Things were good. Going through that mental anguish on Highway 56 now felt great because I didn’t give up. I was better, stronger because of it. The feeling of accomplishment my bike gives me is like no other.
Yesterday, my family celebrated Passover. It is a great family celebration with lots of symbolism of God’s love for us. What an awesome way to finish this story. My story though, has just begun.
Feed Your Monkey!
-Eric
The Seder Plate
Jennifer's yummy dessert
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