As you approach the easter border, the state begins to look pretty good. Lots of storybook farms, but it is another place to keep an eye on your gas needle. The more so, because I think there is something wrong with the Honda, it is pushing out less than 30 mpg, and I don’t think that is entirely due to higher speed travel.If you want to follow my route, I went south on 75, stopping at Sabetha, then skirting Topeka. The road peters out south of that city and is two-lane mostly under repair. The farms look very prosperous, in fact I’ve not seen a “poor” farm this entire trip. Everything is mega-size and new. However, I did pass several towns on the wane, usually due to the shutdown of a single large employer. You can see the stages, from the abandoned factory, next go the machinery lots, then you find boarded up houses. I saw a all manner of downtown building for sale in small towns for maybe $20,000.
Here is the Great Western Sugar Co, in Ovid, Nebraska. Make that once-great. I saw so many similar scenes I don’t know why I photographed only this one. It is still possible to see the classic America, but I found I had to get far away from the Interstates. To put a distance on it, at least 50 miles before you get away from even the effects of the freeway. Most of the rivers west of the wooded parts of the states are dry or just a trickle. Until southern Kansas, where the hills start rolling and the deeper river valleys all have a real creek or a river. It was overcast all day keeping me under four layers. At the same time I know a lot more about sidecar travel than before. While it can maintain 70 mph on a freeway, it is a sterile experience with most other traffic passing you at 80 mph.
Think side car equals side road and enjoy the trip. I like small towns, but to me small means population 35,000. And even then, the dating pool is probably less than 20 women. Small town living is like marrying one of those gals. It is fun until the charm wears off, after which there isn’t a damn thing to do. I didn’t stop except for gas in Kansas, though I did have to pull miles off the path for gasoline several times. Since I don’t intend to fix the motorcycle starter until I return, I often enlisted the locals for a push start and was never refused.
For picture book cute, you can hardly beat Auburn, Nebraska, or the forest areas of east Kansas down to the hills of Oklahoma. I was far enough east that I saw no dust bowls. The twice I’ve now been in that state are the far east and west, and the west was dust long before the settlers arrived. I’ve been using a road map, which adds at least some adventure to the trip since they quit updating upon the advent of GPS. I kept encountering what I call the “Longview Effect”. This is named after a town south of Calgary, AB, which shows a population of 20,000. Three zeroes too many.
Other than great scenery and a spectacular sunset as the skies cleared at dusk, the day was uneventful. I passed several town with unexpected railroad activity, leading me to conclude these were once important junctions. That makes sense, I heard many of the cattle drives were north to railheads. Also, some of the town names, like Atchison and Burlington, I’ve seen on model train cars. I did not see any airplanes and once again, all motorcycles passing me were heading the opposite direction. That’s a good thing.
Crossing into Oklahoma with just minutes of light to spare, I found the only motel in Nowata. As I pulled in and saw groups of people not like me sitting around on their car hoods drinking from open containers, I drove the last 28 miles to Vinita. And I’m glad I did. There’s you sleepy little town that closes up at night. I’m in the Relax Inn, a motel out of the movies, but the room is great for $40. The décor is 1960 with all the fmodernities. Flat screen, microwave, mini-fridge but no Internet. It’s on a the only road west of town and near the railway tracks, but hey, the pillows are soft and I may stay another day.
I’m around an hour north of Muskogee, but below at least the daytime thermocline. I said daytime, which gives me another reason not to travel at night. Here is a crisp morning Oklahoma fog across the parking lot, which rates a better view than in Lincoln, I can say for sure. But as a treat for reading this far, let me tell you about an event in that city. I was in the bar/coffee shop typing away on my laptop when I noticed I had the attention of an obviously local gal about half my age, one of the staff.Finally, I looked up and told her it was my blog. What happens next is not your business, but it earns mention because of the complete lack of memorized pickup lines, rather centers only on unique sentences that required quick thinking to match the moment. I said to her, “How did you figure out so quickly I was single and available?”
Before she could answer, I said, “Ah, it must have been those guitars on the back of that motorcycle sidecar parked outside of unit 218.”
“Oh, was that you?” she asked, glancing at her wristwatch.
I repeated, “218”.
