Day 4 Lake of the Ozarks to Wichita Kansas 285 Miles

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Fate has its say. Over breakfast at the Days Inn I met a delightful fellow, Rick, who hails from Kansas City. Our discussion was way more interesting than the breakfast. Two cereals, fruit loops and some sort of cubes that tasted exactly like fruit loops. Rick was attracted to my data science paraphernalia, sweatshirt, laptop stickers and hat. No outreach spared. Rick had worked both in manufacturing and pharmaceuticals as a data scientist before anyone ever heard of the term. Starting there I learnt of his life’s ups and down and the joy that comes from children making their own way in the world. I had similar stories to tell. We lingered long after I should have been on the road. It was then I realized these conversations were what makes the trip. Riding is fun, sights along the way memorable, but it is the people that count. It was then I decided to maximize the value from the riding by experiencing as much of the people and places I could, not racing to make it to the next place for the sake of it. Hence goodbye Mt. Rushmore, hello, a leisurely ride across the lower states. To that end it was a day on Route 54 with no specific endpoint that had to be met. Events repeated themselves when I stopped in Fort Scott, Kansas, for lunch and met Bill who was riding his bicycle around the region. He had returned for his 60th high school reunion. He had grown up outside of Fort Scott but after graduating college became a “company man” with the Ford Motor Company in Michigan. How things have changed. Such lifelong loyalties to a brand are non-existent now. He filled me in on some of the history of Fort Scott over lunch in Nu Grill, a quaint diner just off the square. The area had seen a number of skirmishes between those from Kansas and Missouri over slavery that predated the civil war. The grinding ride across the flats of Kansas passed quickly as I thought about the two fellows I had met and the richness of their lives. That was until it started to rain. It's a beautiful site in the distance when, seeing for miles, there are spots where the clouds appear to meet the ground. Spots where you know it is raining. There were two such pillars of rain as I headed directly west. I thought I would pass between, but alas the one from the south got me as it moved rapidly across the plain. Too hard to ride in, but thankfully brief to the point of being refreshing since in 80 degree weather my gear dried out as I rode. So without a specific plan I ended up in Wichita and splashed out on a nice hotel with no fruit loops. Tomorrow the slower paced low key adventure will continue.

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