I had a very lazy morning on Monday, one that I would later regret, but it just felt so good to not get up. The continental breakfast was superb. I even had the lady at the desk put on sunscreen for me on my back (don't worry, no one could compare to Lindsay's sunscreen application skills). I asked her about the feeding farms, and tried to fight an expression of disgust on my face. She knew exactly what I was getting at: "Yeah you will see a lot of those, that is pretty much all we have around here, feeding farms and fields." I don't know if I could handle living here and seeing that on a day to day basis.
And with that I was off, with my new-found acceptance of the wind, and I actually had a lot of fun with it, when it wasn't swarming me with dust (see photo). The wind was a cross wind from the South, but it was pretty strong (21 mph), and was whipping at me at my right side. Most of my time and energy was spent leaning into the wind, as the gusts would throw me into the middle of the road if I didn't. I had very good control, and the weight of the panniers really helped stabilize me. Believe me, going into a 21 mph relentless cross wind can slow you down significantly, but it is no headwind. Once in a while, there would be a gust from the SSW, and would push me along, so the majority of the morning, until I reached Dighton, the next town over, I tried to use my body and my panniers as a sail and catch the wind. It was quite fun, actually. (Who would have thought?)I was making much better progress than I had the day before, albeit it was still slower than I would have liked, and exhausting. It was like the wind wanted to be a tailwind, but I guess it is the thought that counts.
I pulled into the gas station to fuel up, as a man was getting out of his truck, and as I was lifting the 80+ lbs over the curb to lock up my bike, I think I gave him a look of "phew what a day," and he chuckled and came over to talk to me as I was getting my stuff together. When I told him that we started in San Francisco upon his asking, his eyes got wide, he got excited, and wanting to know more, sat right on the dirty garbage can and we started chatting. Finally, after I don't know how long, he said "Are you going to get something or did you just come to visit and stand outside?" We went in, and I grabbed protein bars to restock my dwindling supply, chef boyardee, coffee, gatorade, and then all of a sudden he told me to put all of my things with his, as he was going to pay for it. "I am not going to be able to help you during the rest of your journey because i won't be there," he explained, "but I can help right now, so that is what I am doing." It was such an incredible gesture of kindness, and it is so incredible to be a part of. Lindsay and I had many talks about "paying it forward," as people we met have been so generous and supportive, and have helped us in so many ways. These kind acts have meant the world to us, and it is my goal to "return" these acts of kindness to other people that I come across when i am able. That is where the $20 that I found on the side of the road comes in. That being said, the acts of kindness doesn't have to achieved with money, and honestly, some of the best ones leave money out of the picture, like the cup of tea the lady brought us while we were sitting on the top of the mountain in the shower stall. Those moments can mean the most, they can change a day around. There is something about perpetual kindness that has a beautiful sound to it.
As i was sitting enjoying my coffee and beeferoni (weird combo, I know) one of the convenient store staff was dragging a box full of cardboard with one hand and a pail full of dirty water. She looked uncomfortable and annoyed so i tried to get up and help her with the cardboard and in my attempt to help, the box totally broke and the went cardboard everywhere, all over the sidewalk and slightly under a customer's car and she just kind of laughed at me. Between the two of us, we eventually made it to the dumpster. Whoops.
I fought the wind to Ness City, about thirty miles away, where I thought I would indulge in some lunch. Unfortunately, there was nothing in town, except for a Mexican restaurant in the only motel in town. (It was a rather odd atmosphere to the entire building). Word to the wise, don't get a burrito smothered in cheese sauce and then think that your stomach is going to allow you to ride another 37 miles. Not a good scenario. Not to mention, the whole right side of my body was sore from my run in with the dust tornado, and then leaning into the wind for five hours. It was 3:30 pm, and the wind was slowing me down as it was picking up, and I was worried about getting to my destination within daylight hours. (It was hard enough being with Lindsay and not knowing where we would stay as the sun fell... Not something i want to mess around with on my own if i can help it... Very stressful.) So, I stayed in the motel, enjoyed from dehydrated Pasta Primivera and sherbet and put my feet up. It was a wonderful thing. (The motel room was a little sketchy, but that is what you get when it is the only one in town. Although two of the three locks on the door were broken (the chain and the button on the door, the padlock was intact)), don't worry because you can be assured that the rotary telephone above the toilet was in great shape). After doing a 112 and a 106 mile day back to back, ending the day at 57 felt pretty good, I must say.
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