I decided on a rest day at a motel for today. Reasons being: 23 days without a break, hot-hot today with forecast in mid-90s, long haul to next stop in Atchison with little option to bail out, and I need to do laundry.

I crossed the mighty Missouri for what should be the last time* unless I bump into its headwaters in Idaho.

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I arrived in Atchison too early to check into the motel, so I went to a restaurant for breakfast, changed into minimal clothes, and went to the laundromat—minimal clothes so I could wash nearly everything including the shirt I was wearing. I parked the bike in front of the laundromat window, unlocked, because there was nothing to which it could be locked. I sat at a front table working on routing possibilities and an unsavory guy walked in toting a trash bag full of clothes talking about pissing his pants (sorry for the language), looking for a restroom and talking to doors as if they’d open. Something is not connected quite right with the guy and I ignored him. He left the bag of clothes and walked out, I assumed to find a restroom.

I got up to switch my clothes from washer to dryer, went back to the front table, and you guessed it — no bicycle. In a panic I dashed out the front door with wallet and phone in hand to find the guy, leaving laundry and handlebar bag. I keep an AirTag buried deep inside the camping gear pannier and I followed it on the iPhone to see where the bike was. I followed the location radius down an alley between buildings and into a parking lot next to a bank and other businesses. The location radius didn’t make a lot of sense because it kept moving randomly to different locations, and I couldn’t see my bike or anyone. I called 911 and the dispatcher directed Cpl. Peterson to the scene, he was a couple of blocks over and was there within 3 minutes. He looked at the iPhone, which didn’t make sense to him either, and thought it was because the location wasn’t updating (Air Tags depend on other iPhones to keep updating) and we were standing on the last know position. 

After I got my wits about me, I realized I was tracking the Air Tag in my wallet, which was in my hand! I have two Air Tags, one in the wallet and the other buried in the camping gear pannier. Switching to the other Air Tag, he immediately knew the location to be a gas station on the other side of the bridge in Missouri. He dispatched a partner to the location and found the bike and panniers on the side of the gas station, we all went there, including a detective on the force. The guy took off on foot, not to be seen. There is a jurisdictional issue when local police go into to another district, and in this case, another state, so they couldn’t pursue.

All seemed in order, but the tent bag I carry atop the rear rack was missing. One of the straps had been cut, the other unclipped (why cut is a mystery to me, it's easier to just unclip the buckle). I checked out everything, loaded up panniers, and rode back over the bridge (*I just THOUGHT it was my last time). I was surprised the guy managed to get that far in a short time; it’s not an easy bike to ride and very heavy. I guessed he had jettisoned the bag to reduce weight going up the bridge, so I carefully looked over the railing to see if the bag was below. Walking my way down the bridge, Cpl. Peterson pulled over with lights a-flashing and the bag in hand. I’d found it under a bridge over a network of railroad tracks they call the 6th Street Viaduct. I guess it’s a known place for this guy to hang out.

Early on when this episode started, Cpl. Peterson asked for a description of the laundromat guy. No shirt (like me!), heavily tattooed, well built. He was very familiar with him. The guy’s been causing headaches for the police and community for a couple of weeks. Just this morning there was a confrontation complaint from a citizen. Now, they have something solid to arrest the guy when he makes his way back to Atchison, which they are sure he will. He obviously needs some kind of help.

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So the net of this tale is: lock the bike even just to itself, and I needed to come up with another strap for the tent bag, if nothing more than a bungee cord.

One of my objectives is today was to get a spare inner tube to replace the questionable patched one. There is a bike shop shown on the ACA maps. I called the number, and the owner, Gary McGregor, works out of his truck and closed the brick & mortar shop a while ago. He said he’d deliver a selection of tubes to the motel when I got checked in. Mr. McGregor and I chatted in the motel lobby for well over an hour. He’s 90, and has a fascinating background as an auto mechanic instructor at the local high school, and rambling stories going back to the period immediately after WWII and his family. He’s ridden the BAK (Bike Across Kansas) and RAGBRAI (Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa). I purchased two tubes from his selection.

I went back into town to a hardware store to find strap substitutes, and they had a selection of webbing and snap buckles. It required a bit of hand stitching because the existing buckle is metric and the replacement is inch, so I had to finagle stuff around to still use the elastic part that makes the system work. Then to dinner again. While eating, Mr. McGregor called me wanting to join me for dinner, drive me around town to see important sights, and give me a paper he wrote about history. I was running short on time so I had to blow off, but we arranged to swap emails. Mr. McGregor, if you can navigate to this journal, it was an honor meeting you and I enjoyed our conversation.

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Louise HiltonGood grief! Phew.
Mr McGregor sure took the curse off previous story. Glad you have 2 tubes instead of zero bike or gear.
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3 days ago

Ken GrossOn previous trips I’ve carried two spares, plus tire patching kits to put punctured ones back into service. But like I mentioned, I’ve had but one (now two) puncture in 40K miles, so I thought carrying two spares was silly. I spoke too soon.

Sara convinced me to stop the foolishness and just get two new tubes rather than fussing with the patched one. She’s right about a lot of things.
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3 days ago

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An activity I was considering on my “rest day” was to visit the Amelia Earhart museum in Atchison. She had a history in Atchison, perhaps lived or flew from the airstrip here. Amelia will have to wait for another trip.