In Memory of Warmer Summers

Leoti, Kansas to Eads, Colorado

Friendly horn taps: 2

Miles: 81

Total so far: 2,523

I’ve ridden bicycles in areas that people hate to drive.  I’ve ridden bicycles through large tracks of land that I hate to drive.  The experience on a bicycle is so surprisingly interesting on roads and in areas where it’s kind to say it’s bone-numbing boring to drive a car, but it is.  Kansas is like that.

Crossing into state #9. Sallie and I are both natives of Colorado - but that was a long time ago, right?

We said our goodbyes to Kansas today.   As we approached the state line, I informed Sallie and Julie when we were about a mile and a half out, so they could have some time to reflect on our ride through Kansas.  Cyclists tend to be unkind in some of their impressions.  Motorists are even worse than unkind.  Bored motorists should ride a bike, because we enjoyed our tour through the Sunflower State.

What is that on those fence posts? They go back as far as I can see...

Cowboy boots!

Julie will be going her own way (not a surprise!)

Tomorrow we are also saying our goodbyes to Julie.  She’s been with us for some 18 days and an amazing 1,049 miles.  Julie’s route will depart from ours as she heads directly west to San Fransisco on what is known as the Western Express.  We will turn north and head for ski country and other latitudes.  Julie’s mother has arranged to escort her travels west via car and this will speed her to her destination much faster.  Like any young woman, she has plans and things to do later on in the summer.

Julie has proven herself to be a determined young lady.  So much so that she will not be swayed from her destination and task until it is complete.  Good for her.  She is a very capable rider and the remaining miles will tremble at her pace.  I’ve not mentioned it, but she did her first century ride (100 miles) in the mountains of eastern Kentucky – while riding with a full load of gear.

Julie is that rare combination of youthful exuberance and determined spirit that just goes about business effortlessly knocking out hurdles and other obstacles that deter more “seasoned” folks into not even attempting what she’s done.  Good for her.

Last supper? From left, yours truly, Sallie, Julie, and newly arrived, Marica Thiery, Julie'smother.

Julie can be followed at http://spokenwordsfromtheroad.tumblr.com/.

You go girl.  We are pulling for you.

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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Robert Lyle Weyer

Jessica Bentley submitted this request, and I am making an exception here for her.  I will print two images from her.  One a photograph, and one a written poem.  I think you will see why…

My father, Robert Lyle Weyer, was killed by a drunk driver September 16, 1979 in Kenton, Ohio at the age of 24. I am told he was funny, a hard worker, and a great friend. I have to be told these things and rely on others to know my father because I can’t remember him. This is the only image I have of the two of us together.

Robert Lyle Weyer

Dad

 We will stand beneath the whippoorwill and reminisce.

I will clutch you tightly sinking my face within your shirt, deep, as I breathe in that which I could not remember.

 We will dance beneath the purple hues of heaven; our first father and daughter dance;

swaying gingerly, step slide step, step slide step.

 What should we say; there is nothing to say; I love You does not suffice;

as the ache that was held within me has lifted- I am speechless.

 I breathe and you breathe- there is no breath. We gaze within this vastness.

Together we will take in the awe.

 See the stars! The same stars I had spent all my wishes upon. Wishes that you would be here before me-

Wishes well spent! Wishes well spent!