Day III

Reece will be guest-authoring this entry because of his uncanny love for the seemingly boring, but beautiful state of Kansas.

Kansas, the sunflower state. Sunflowers seen during trip: 0. Ever since the early stages of planning for this trip, Caitlin and I had a prejudice towards Kansas that entailed a long, straight, monotonous drive on Interstate 70. Originally we planned to simply drive from St. Louis directly to Denver all in one day. When it comes down to it, that is what we did essentially, but to me it has been the best drive so far. Instead of becoming desensitized to the beauty of what is considered fly-over country, I became more and more distraught at the fact that I would probably never see a place like Kansas in person ever again. Eastern Kansas, surprisingly, is very much like western Missouri. Who would have figured? Consisting of rolling hills spotted with grazing cows, I couldn’t help but imagine riding a horse with my dog over the varied terrain, bringing the herd in for the night. As the day continued and the sun began to rise, one begins to realize as I would say over and over again to Caitlin, “Kansas is HOT.” The heat was dry and with the windows down all the way and the country music (something Caitlin and I have both found a dear place in our hearts for) blasting, I couldn’t imagine a more pleasant driving condition. No, what I like to call, “swamp ass.”

One of my fondest memories of Kansas would have to be our experience at a local gas station just off the interstate. This was our first stop in Kansas, and getting out of a car that has been going 85 miles per hour for the past three hours to the dead heat and near deafening quiet of a gas station set aside a huge wheat field is surreal to say the least. I instantly had the sensation of being in some sort of movie or a Marlboro billboard ad. I felt drawn to the field and I really can’t describe the sensation I had standing next to it. Driving by these things you don’t really gain an appreciation for how expansive and real they are. Taking the time to get off the interstate and really let the fields sink in has definitely left a lasting impression on me. Inside the gas station one could also gain an appreciation for the slowness of Kansas life, or rather its detachment from the fast-moving world opposite to it on the coasts. Gas stations were littered with dusty trinkets like rabbits’ feet and stuffed penguins. Anything to catch the eye of a road-weary trucker, I suppose.

Farther on down the road and several photographs out a moving car window later we arrived in Colby, home of a Wal-Mart Supercenter and a Taco John’s. Wal Marts are totally different in Kansas! No. They’re not. We got a tarp and I picked up some rain gear in preparation for inclement weather in the Rockies. Taco John’s boasted “The Best Tacos in Town.” This was amusing to me, considering the only other establishments in the town were the Wal Mart, two gas stations, and a cheap motel. Perhaps the Wal Mart had tacos, too. Who knows? Either way, I would have to agree that the tacos were delicious, as was the lovely young lady who served them to me. When we told her that we were from New Jersey all she could really think to say was, “Y’all got trees?” Needless to say she was baffled by the fact that I was so fond of her home state.

Making good time we set our final destination for Rocky Mountain National park. Driving into Colorado I was greeted by scattered thundershowers. The interesting thing about storms on the plains is that you can see them coming for miles. Watching the lightning strike the ground from a distance is something I can’t honestly say I have witnessed before. Nature’s own light show provided me with adequate entertainment until the Rockies began to rise out of the horizon. For Caitlin and I this has been one of the single most exciting moments of the trip. We couldn’t help but have the overwhelming sensation of “We made it!” After passing Denver, with our hopes set on camping in front-country Rocky Mountain National Park, we were delayed by a flipped car on Interstate 25. Almost a blessing in disguise, we were able to quickly change plans and stay in a Budget Host Motel just outside the park. Located, conveniently enough, just next door to Johnson’s truck stop, home of the world famous cinnamon buns. Owned by a frightening Asian woman with a Japanese guard dog, we had a nice king sized bed and free HBO. After cooking pasta and mushrooms on the camp stove, we shared a couple of Blue Moon beers and turned in for the night, ready to take on the Rockies.

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