Day 9 – Colorado Springs to Wichita, KS
Rode 489 miles, Posted by Bug
Somewhere in Colorado or Kansas there’s a town called Helenback, because we kept going there all day long today. We left Dr. Charity’s home at 7 am Mountain Time to beat the heat as much as possible, but by 11 am the temp was hitting three digits, and we were guzzling Gatorade, water, and even iced coffee by the gallon. When we finally pulled into Dodge City for lunch at 2 pm, every bank sign we saw said 107. 
Any other time of the year, we’d have wanted to walk out behind Applebee’s to the Boot Hill cemetery to see where some famous varmints are buried. But today we felt too much like people shopping for plots, so we skipped that particular treat.
During lunch at Montana Mike’s, Apostle Blue suggested taking the entire afternoon off, and no one quarreled with the wisdom of his words. The only question was: Where could we truly relax in air-conditioned surroundings for four more hours? The movies at a small local mall provided a wonderful solution, so we bought tickets and entered a cool, dark chamber marked #3, prepared for a sweet, cheap snooze. But Jason Bourne, who was having a lot rougher ride than our own, kept us awake and suitably diverted until it was time to saddle up again.
It was still 107 when we headed back out onto Highway 400 towards Wichita at 6:30 pm. Fifty miles east of Dodge City we came to Greensburg, Kansas, which, until this past May, was unknown to the world. That’s when a tornado barreled right through the middle of that isolated little hamlet, killing nine people and destroying virtually the entire town. Our waitress, Sam, had told us what to expect, but the scene was still startling. The swath of destruction was probably half a mile wide, and looked like a battle scene from Iraq. Piles of lumber and debris were everywhere, and all the trees had been beheaded. Those that remained were, like the town, struggling back to life.
When we finally arrived at the Best Western Governor’s Inn tonight at 9, the air was still 93 degrees warm. But we’ve got loud window units and soft pillows, and we are three quarters of the way home.
Any other time of the year, we’d have wanted to walk out behind Applebee’s to the Boot Hill cemetery to see where some famous varmints are buried. But today we felt too much like people shopping for plots, so we skipped that particular treat.
During lunch at Montana Mike’s, Apostle Blue suggested taking the entire afternoon off, and no one quarreled with the wisdom of his words. The only question was: Where could we truly relax in air-conditioned surroundings for four more hours? The movies at a small local mall provided a wonderful solution, so we bought tickets and entered a cool, dark chamber marked #3, prepared for a sweet, cheap snooze. But Jason Bourne, who was having a lot rougher ride than our own, kept us awake and suitably diverted until it was time to saddle up again.
It was still 107 when we headed back out onto Highway 400 towards Wichita at 6:30 pm. Fifty miles east of Dodge City we came to Greensburg, Kansas, which, until this past May, was unknown to the world. That’s when a tornado barreled right through the middle of that isolated little hamlet, killing nine people and destroying virtually the entire town. Our waitress, Sam, had told us what to expect, but the scene was still startling. The swath of destruction was probably half a mile wide, and looked like a battle scene from Iraq. Piles of lumber and debris were everywhere, and all the trees had been beheaded. Those that remained were, like the town, struggling back to life.
When we finally arrived at the Best Western Governor’s Inn tonight at 9, the air was still 93 degrees warm. But we’ve got loud window units and soft pillows, and we are three quarters of the way home.
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