Day 46 – We’re Not in Kansas Anymore

By Mark Heggestad
Today we left Kansas behind and biked 71.3 miles from Pittsburg, KS to Ash Grove, MO.

Every day on this journey is a great day, today was just more fun than most.  Sun was shining and temps were perfect (high 80's and humid).  Wind was from the south at 10 to 15 mph, but the majority of today's ride was east with limited riding into the wind.

What made this day exceptionally fun was the terrain.  It has changed from mostly flat to mostly hills.  At times it felt like I was riding a gentle roller coaster.  There are lots of hills, a smattering of curves, and a mixture of trees and farmland.   I have been told that the hills will get significantly more challenging as we move east, but today they were just fun.  Rode with a smile on my face the entire time.

The farm country reminded me of my youth in Minnesota: more hills than Minnesota, but very similar crops.  I lived on a farm until I was 14, at which time my Dad sold the farm and we moved to town.  I was a premium to the local farmers as I was one of few 14-year old "town kids" that knew how to operate farm machinery, stack a hayrack without having it fall apart, and back-up a rock picker.  As I smelled the fresh cut hay today I couldn’t help but think of all the bales I threw in my youth.  One of my favorite jobs – I got to be outside in the sun, work my muscles, enjoy the smell of fresh cut hay and at the end of the day, I could see real progress.  As I biked by rock piles I couldn’t help but think of all the rocks I picked.  My absolute least favorite job.  And as I biked by combines harvesting grain (yes they have already started here) I couldn’t help but think of all the wagonloads of grain I have hauled.  Those were simple days.  I loved the feeling of a hard day’s work and the feeling of accomplishment that came with it, and the local farmers appreciated a kid who knew what he was doing and took pride in his work.  It was a win/win situation.

Hills and Pasture Land

More hills and pasture

Couldn't help but think of my Dad today.  He sold Dekalb seed corn 45 years ago.  I would help him put up signs around Pope County.  I spotted these signs often on today's ride.  They look exactly as they did 45 years ago - not a single thing has changed. 

Dekalb seed corn sign.  Some things never change.

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