Monday, October. 19, 1998: east of Kendall
Not much to write about lately. I've slipped into a groove of getting up with the sun, shaking the layer of frost off my tent, and laying it in the morning sunlight to dry. While waiting for my tent to dry, I make some coffee and enjoy it while looking at the maps. Then I pack up and keep on walking through the vast nothingness known as the Arkansas River lowlands of western Kansas. I have been averaging about fifteen miles a day. I usually stop for water a few times every day at farm houses. The people have been very nice. An old woman gave me five dollars the other day. I told her thank you, and had a nice lunch in Syracuse.
At night, it is very cold, and I am usually lulled to sleep by pure exhaustion, the sounds of coyotes yipping and howling, and the B.N.S.F. railroad. It is interesting, I can listen to the train blow its whistle in the town that I walked through that day. It goes by me, and then I hear another whistle as the train goes through the town I am walking to tomorrow. I can calculate exactly where Iam by counting the seconds between each whistle and when the train passes where I am. Some may say that I have too much time on my hands, but I love it.
I walked into the Central Standard Time Zone today--which doesn't mean a whole lot when you are traveling by foot and don't have a watch to move forward an hour anyway. Tomorrow, I will walk to Lakin. The woman at the library in Syracuse told me that they have internet access in Lakin. Then I'll continue to Deerfield (where Earl Martinez said I could camp in his yard) and on to Garden City where I plan to stop and work for a few days.
Tuesday, October 20, 1998: east of Lakin
I left the library in Lakin and walked five miles east on Hwy 50, then south 1/2 mile across a wheat field, over the railroad tracks, over a barbed-wire fence, and to the Arkansas River. Out on the highway, my left knee told me that it wanted the rest of the day off, so I am staying here tonight. Besides, it is raining, and I have found a nice big tree to sit under and cook dinner.
There is a small road/path that seems to follow the Arkansas River on the north side (the side I'm on.) I don't know how long it will last, but I will find out tomorrow. It is a walker's paradise compared to Hwy 50, and there are actually some trees over here. The highway has shoulders as wide as a lane, which is great, but too many trucks. It is funny though, when you walk the same highway for a few weeks, you see the truckers that drive the same route everyday. They wave and sometimes honk, and I wave back saying to myself, "Hey, I know that guy."
Many of the people here in Kansas have developed and use what I call "the Kansas point." It can be used as a substitution for a wave when you drive by someone. Here is how you do it: First, you hold your index and middle fingers out together. Then, you make a single chopping motion towards the person you are acknowledging--but bend your wrist as if you are casting a fishing line out. Try it sometime instead of a wave, it's fun. Out here, I usually receive a wave or a Kansas point. There is the occasional "what the heck is he doing?" with a pained, scratch-your-head kind of expression, but no more than is to be expected.
Wednesday,. October 21, 1998: Garden City
Today, after the usual morning routine, I returned to Hwy 50. The path only lasted about 1/2 mile. I stopped at a historical marker entitled "Charlie's Ruts." Here, you can still see the original wagon ruts of the Santa Fe Trail. The wagons ran four abreast here to allow for faster circling in the event of an Indian attack. I walked on them for awhile until they disappeared into a plowed field of harvested corn.
Last night, while camping at the river, I was reading an informational booklet on the Santa Fe Trail. I thought about how someone probably camped at that very spot while traveling the trail. Although they were traveling west, had oxen and mules pulling all their belongings for them, and couldn't stop for lunch at Shorty's Cafe in Lakin, I felt a closeness to them and what they did. I also read that before 1840, my campsite was on the border of Mexico and the U.S.
I stopped at a truck stop in Deerfield for lunch. I asked the woman working there where Earl Martinez lived as he had instructed me to do when I reached Deerfield. Although I had already decided to walk farther today, I wanted to stop in and say "hi" on my way through.
Earl was home and glad that I stopped by. I met his family, visited with him for a bit, and pressed on. He gave me some important local travel tips before I left: the back way to Garden City on River Road and the location of "Deerfield Beach," which was a gravel pit that is now a small lake with a campground and hot showers. Hmmm....shower--haven't had one of those since Holly, Colorado.
After bathing it was 2pm, there would be 5 hours of sunlight left and fourteen miles of River Road between me and Garden City. I stood in the middle of the road with my pack on, making the decision between relaxing at Deerfield Beach today or spending the entire day tomorrow in Garden City. It would be an eighteen mile day. I went for it.
About one mile outside of Garden City, a white pickup passed me and pulled over. A voice that came from inside the truck said, "You need a ride, bud?" I explained to him that what I really needed was a back yard in Garden City where I could set up my tent. "Would that be ok with you?" I asked. He said, "I don't see why that would be a problem." My problems get solved that quickly out here. I threw my pack and my tired body into his truck, and we went to his house. He bar-b-qued steaks and burgers, and I enjoyed dinner with him and his family.
His name is Jon, and he farms land in Deerfield for Triple T Farms. They have cattle and grow $100,000 dollars worth of popcorn every year for Weaver's--the company that makes those real big tins of popcorn that are divided into three sections of cheese, caramel and butter flavors. You know the ones. For the rest of my life when I see one of those, I will think about the man who probably grew the popcorn inside.
Thursday, October 22, 1998: Garden City
Last night, Jon and his wife (Jill) were concerned that I might be too cold in my tent, so he ran an extension cord out and put a space heater in it. Man, that is a luxury I wish I could carry with me. It reached 30 degrees last night, and I was toasty warm.
Today was an extremely beautiful autumn day in Kansas. There are big yellow trees all over town and a chill in the air. I borrowed Jon's bicycle this morning, left my pack at his house, and went to the Job Service. There isn't any day work available today, so I went to the zoo. The highlights for me at the zoo were the giraffes, monkeys, elephants, and a sign that read, "CAUTION: Rhino urinates towards sidewalk to mark it's territory." I also saw the world's largest free swimming pool. It was empty today, but when it is full it holds 2.5 million gallons of water. It was the biggest swimming pool that I had ever seen. I wanted to tour the beef processing plant here in town (I really did), but they didn't have tours.
Friday October 23, 1998: Garden City
No day work in Garden, I'm going to walk on today. I've decided to take a short cut to Pierceville on the railroad tracks. I'll tell you how it went from Cimmaron or Dodge City.
