Safety through insanity - Day 53: Dighton, KS to Rush Center, KS

Scenery-wise, today was more of the same: flat, with lots of corn and soybeans. The humidity was higher and the headwinds stronger, however, which drove me a little bit insane. I started to feel very defeated by the wind until I started singing whatever I could think of, as loudly and energetically as possible. The wind in my ears made it feel like no one could possibly hear me. I really got into it, bobbing my head and speeding up to match the rhythm of whatever I was thinking, which probably looked a little crazy. Deanna reports that drivers were giving me a much wider berth than usual.

I've been trying to avoid listening to music or podcasts while riding as sort of an exercise in discipline and mindfulness, but eventually the few lyric fragments I know weren't enough to keep me going and I listened to some high-energy albums: first Somewhere in the Between by Streetlight Manifesto, and second Fortress by Protest the Hero. They got me most of the way to Rush Center, which isn't much more than a bar, grill, and fire station.

There were about 17 high schoolers in the bar and grill plus a couple guides who were responsible for herding them around. I cleaned up some of their uneaten leftovers and chatted about their experience heading west. I talked with one of their guides about riding the Great Divide someday, and Deanna later insisted that the guide was "totally into me". I think I can generally pick up on that, but the signals went way above my head this time, if they were there at all. It probably didn't help that I thought she was an older-looking high schooler at first. Acting on any of that attraction, if indeed any were present, would probably not set a desirable example for the kids anyway.

Sonia mentioned seeing a dead kitten in the parking lot. The high schoolers got very quiet and nervous. They said a kitten had followed them, meowing loudly, for a mile or so before one of their guides picked it up and carried it 30 miles to Rush Center. One brave kid went outside just to make sure it wasn't the same kitten. It was, somehow having died while waiting for them. This revelation brought out a mix of nervous laughter, quiet contemplation, and open tears. Interestingly, it seemed like the biggest jocks at the table were also the most profoundly affected. Instead of hiding it like I assumed all boys felt they must, they freely expressed their sadness. I never saw the cat, but I was almost moved to tears just by seeing boys be comfortable expressing vulnerable emotions. I think my childhood would have been a lot better if that had felt like a safe thing to do.

The high schoolers had talked with the local fire chief, who let them pack themselves wherever they could fit inside the firehouse due to a tornado watch for that night. We joined them inside, and I went to sleep beneath the rear differential of a pump truck, hoping I'd remember where I am before trying to sit up in the morning.


The sights today included a bullet-riddled county sign -- many roadsigns are bullet-riddled, here -- and my first sighting of Freedom Fries in the wild.