Minneola, Kansas

...is where I'm at currently, in the home of Reed and Carol Hindman, some very kind, hospitable, retired wheat farmers. Minneola is about 40 miles from the Oklahoma border, and about 20 miles from Dodge City. I rode here yesterday from Laverne, Oklahoma. Zoom out on the Google map of Minneola and you'll get a sense of the distance between towns in this part of the country. It's a little daunting.

Anyway, daunting or not I'm going to ride it.

To get back to my list of hightlights:

In Walthall, Mississippi, I stopped at a little gas station/restaurant for lunch and got to talking with the owner, a very nice guy named Pat. I told him my story, about Korea and my trip, and he didn't charge me for the meal.

In Grenada, Mississippi, I met Alison Moore at the library (her picture is here). We started chatting and discovered that we had a million things in common: She's from California (Sacramento, too, if I remember correctly); her husband Jonathan is a musician (originally from Britain, and my drummer Dan is British...stretching it a bit I know); her foster son's name is Ethan, my youngest nephew's name is Ethan; they're involved in prison ministry, my dad is a retired correctional officer...the list went on and on. She invited me to stay at their house for the night and I gladly agreed. I was very impressed with their family and the welcome I received. They made me feel instantly at home, and I was sorry to leave the next day.

I broke a chain as I left Grenada. An easy fix, but still a bummer.

Then I took a wrong turn and went 30 miles south, out of my way, down to Greenwood, MS. I was on Highway 7/8, and didn't notice where they split into separate roads. I stayed on 7, much to my chagrin when I realized it 30 miles later. But I did ride past Avalon, the home of Mississppi John Hurt (picture here).

And I met Marvin and Becky Sheffield, whom I wouldn't have if I'd taken my planned road. As usual it was getting late and I was tired. I was on a very lonely stretch of highway with vast cornfields on either side. I needed water and had determined to beg or "borrow" water at the nearest house or barn I saw. I pulled up to the Sheffield's house, they were home, and I asked for water and if I could camp somewhere out in the fields. They said yes to both, and asked me to stay for dinner. They were young, probably very close to my age. Marvin was the manager for Shellmound Plantation. After a very tasty dinner they took me out to a grass airstrip in the middle of one of their cornfields, and I set up camp. And I think I set a record in how fast I pitched my tent -- the mosquitos were viscious. Even when I was safely in my tent I could hear them whining all around it. A chilling sound.

To be continued...

(Pictures)