Dispatch 08: Council Grove, Kansas, to Blue Springs, Nebraska

Our first miles of gravel featured a caravan of small buttes and mesas that rolled across the horizon. Bursts of yellow peppered the hills around us. Fall is quietly descending upon Kansas. We traveled on Blue Stem Road and took a long diversion on Little Egypt Road through tall grass prairies interspersed with densely wooded bottoms. Toto, we’re in Kansas, and I’m in love.

We crossed Mills Creek through a thicket of trees and stopped outside of Alma to have lunch with two of Jerod’s friends. Arturo and Wrenn Pacheco are Kansas ranchers that sell their pasture-raised beef direct to the consumer. They graciously invited us into their home, grilled us all beef hot dogs, and chatted about ranch life in Kansas. Before we left, Wrenn pulled a couple of Kansas City strip steaks from their freezer, and Arturo told us exactly how to cook them.

We made a brief stop in Volland, where the old red brick general store from the 1900s has been transformed into an art gallery.

Before we started this trip, I made a pledge to maintain a decent quality of food consumption. I have failed. Convenience store breakfast burritos, that Clarendon Sonic Drive-In visit, and a couple of Subway stops have left me void of proper cuisine. With the Pacheco beef, I devised a gourmet meal for tonight’s camp. We stopped at a grocery store in Wamego, where I bought a red bell pepper, green onions, and frozen veggies to keep the steaks cold in my saddle bags.

Making a pit stop for coffee, we discovered Jerod’s front suspension fork was leaking oil on his brake calipers. It was a mechanical development that had the potential to be catastrophic.

We passed through farmland with round bales of hay waiting in empty green fields. The caliche road had recently been graded and there was a layer of silt spread amongst golf ball sized rocks. Our large motor bikes churned the silt and produced an ethereal cloud of dust that enhanced the setting sun’s golden light. I felt cozy and connected to this place as I careened across its chalky thoroughfares.

We quietly entered Nebraska and camped at Feit Memorial Park in Blue Springs, Nebraska. I finished thawing the steaks by resting them against my bike’s warm engine. They were delicious, and the veggie sides fulfilled my quest to eat better.

Jerod’s leaking fork seal would have to wait until tomorrow.