Good Luck/Bad Luck

May 1, 2025

Sublette, Kansas

LAST NIGHT

I have a feeling today is going to be a lucky day for anybody who is still reading this journal. I've been told there will be some major improvements ahead for my writin' and they'll make you happy. For proof, I'll have to show a picture I took at dinner last night.

If I'm interpretin' this correctly, my anecdotes might actually be funny for a change.

Here's another picture from last night when I was walkin' from the Chinese restaurant back to my motel. I was already pleased about my upcoming funniness, then the rainbow added to my pleasure.

TODAY'S NEWS

My route was to be an easy, delightfully flat, 35-miles of Great Plains bliss. I knew there would be no towns or services of any kind, but I consider that a plus, not a minus. The only preparation I needed was to load up on snacks and water before leaving Liberal. Oh, and there was a nice 22-mile per hour breeze from the north to help keep me cool.

So, promptly at 9:00 a.m., I started pedaling straight f---ing north . . .

I complained to myself for more than six hours while cycling, but I'll be damned if I'm going to spend even a minute writing about it. My bad luck shouldn't have to spoil your good luck.

I can't say enough about how immaculate every Kansas highway has been. Highway 83 was more of the same.

I saw quite a few of these things along the way. They provided decent cover for when I had to use the restroom of the great outdoors.

I don't know what Produced Water is, but I hope it doesn't mean I was hanging around hazardous materials without protective gear.

These folks take their Oklahoma Sooners football team pretty seriously. I hope that doesn't bring them acrimony from their neighbors here in Kansas.

I saw many small patches of wheat growing beside the highway. I imagine that's the result of the Kansas wind scattering seeds all over the place.

I hate taking on extra weight, but any kind of flair brings happiness to G-2 and me.

On a less windy day, I might have explored this side road for a little while.

Here is another scenic spot I found to release urine.

The above picture was just where I parked. Then I walked past these pretty flowers to that bush further back for the actual Church of the Great Outdoors urination ceremony.

Definitely, the scenic highlight of the day was the part that involved the descent into, and the ascent out of, the totally dry Cimmaron River valley. It had desert-like beauty, simplicity, and solemnity down there.

I often sing the praises of Rand-McNally's paper maps, but I do have a bone to pick with them regarding the Cimmaron River. The map I've been using shows a very blue river. I assure you, on both days I've seen the Cimmaron, it has been shades of tan and brown. There is no blue water. There is only dry grass and shrubs in a gulley where a river should be.

It's true my map is a few years old, but if that "river" has had water in it any time within the last century, I'll eat an anvil.

Looking back after the climb. The point where the road curves and disappears is about six miles away. Distances are very deceiving out here.

They were far away, but I had to get a few cows into this post.

This was a pretty nice roadside picnic area and it came just as I was feeling pretty darn hungry.

The harsh Great Plains have not been kind to that house.

Another "Produced Water" tank, no doubt. I liked the colors. It was the only one I saw that wasn't black.

He was bein' his usual sarcastic self, but G-2 was right. If there was any whirr coming from those tires at all, it was obliterated by the constant WHOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSHHHHH blowing into our ears.

There was the roar of a lot of cattle trucks assaulting our ears too. To be honest, I wish there had been even more of them. Whenever they passed at 65 m.p.h., they sucked me into their wake and provided a couple seconds of relief from the wind.

See that zoomed-in grain elevator up there? It's in my destination town of Sublette, ten miles away.

I admit I was getting a little worn out at that point. I checked the weather app on my phone to see how much the wind speed had increased compared to what it was when I started. I could not believe they were telling me it had died down to only 19 miles per hour. LIARS!! In my mind I knew it was at least 50 miles per hour.

Whatever the wind speed was, I decided I was going put every ounce of energy I had into covering that ten miles in one hour or less.

An hour-and-a-half later, I finally made it to the little agricultural town of Sublette.

I went straight to the only motel in town. It looked pretty run down, but I didn't care. Nobody was in the office, but there was a hand printed sign with a phone number to call "for rent room." I did want to "rent room", so I called the number. A gal answered promptly. She was very friendly, took my information, and gave me a code to a lock box from which I could get the key to my room. It was so smooth and so small town.

Best of all, she was only the second person I talked to all day (the first one was at the last motel when I said, "I'm just checking out," and the clerk replied, "okay, thank you.")

No, really, the best of all was that despite the exterior appearance of the motel, the room was clean and quite nice. And the wi-fi was faster than the Holiday Inn's.

Heart

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Today's ride: 35 miles (56 km)
Total: 169 miles (272 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	12
Comment on this entry	Comment	6

Bill ShaneyfeltReminds me of Hee-Haw:
"Gloom, despair, and agony on me
Deep, dark depression, excessive misery
If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all."

:-)
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11 hours ago

George (Buddy) HallI feel your pain dealing with that wind. Not far from where you were cycling today (Freedom, OK area to be specific), in 1978 my wife and I cycled from Woodward to Alabaster Caverns State Park and camped. It was supposed to be a gentle overnight tour to get my wife interested in cycle touring. A frontal system blew through during the night bringing horrific winds, we could barely keep the tent down. The next morning we had to cycle back south to Woodward into a steady wind of 35-40 mph. The route consisted of a lot of up-down through small canyons. You had to pedal hard to even go downhill. And, as you know, the sound of that much wind is like a freight train in your ears. Though I led the way and tried to take the brunt of the wind, it was just too much for my wife - that was her last bicycle tour with me!
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10 hours ago

Andrea BrownTo Bill ShaneyfeltIt's a little disturbing to me that I know exactly how that song goes, although "Hee Haw" was forbidden if my mom was home.
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10 hours ago

Larry MitchellGotta love Kansas! Having cycled across it twice, bit farther north, I wholeheartedly agree, it ain’t flat and wind does blow. Fortunately it mostly helped our west to east direction but I have very real memories of cattle trucks blasting by during a wind blown rain day. Everything got washed later that night including the bike!
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7 hours ago

Gregory GarceauTo George (Buddy) HallI assure you, my day wasn't nearly as difficult as the one you just described.
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2 hours ago

Gregory GarceauTo Larry MitchellI remember thinking at some point, "well, at least it's not raining." It sounds like you got to experience the Full Monte of Kansas weather.
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2 hours ago