Okay, I wanted to test myself and see how far I can ride at this point. There's a trail that runs from the Kansas River to south of 119th Street, over 15 miles of trail. If I can go from end to end on it, that's 1/3 of the daily ride on the MS Ride I'm training for.
And, by the way, really. SPONSOR ME! I know the economy sucks hard right now, and if you can't, you can't. If you're one of my many out of work friends, I'm not hectoring you. But surely not every single person I know except one is insolvent these days. I'm going to ride 170 miles in two days and sleep on the ground in between. I'm not asking you to go along, just make a donation to a very worthy cause to encourage my behavior.
I remember raising $200 to $300 for the Relay For Life a few years running and all I was going to do for that was walk around a track at night for an hour.
Anyway, I didn't get to see if I can really do the whole trail. My original idea was to start at the river and go south, then back north. Theory being, the river is likely the lowest point on the trail, topographically speaking. So wouldn't it be nice to finish with an overall downhill situation? But I was running out of daylight, so I started from 119th/Northgate.
Well, it turns out there are many peaks and valleys between Olathe and the Kaw. The trail does indeed have long flat stretches, skirting the edge of enormous meadows as it follows Mill Creek. But there are plenty of hills, ones that require braking on the down side due to hair-pin turns and blind corners, and going the other way can only be described as Ultimate Granny Gear.
I was honestly awestruck by how beautiful a lot of the scenery is. Who knew Kansas was so beautiful?
And anyone ever tells you Kansas is flat, ask them if they own a bicycle.
When I was getting ready to set out, I wondered about the sign saying the park I was leaving from closed at dusk and the gates would be chained shut. The curb was hoppable, but I wasn't sure how stringently they enforced this dusk closing. Or what they considered 'dusk.'
Another person parking there said, 'Don't worry, they don't lock up until after nine, maybe even ten.'
It was eight when I started off...
I made it from the 14.5 marker to the 6 mile. Then I realized that the sun was going down and it was getting dark faster than I anticipated. Plus, at mile marker 6 the path was going downhill pretty steeply and I didn't relish the thought of climbing back up it.
I should have turned around a couple miles sooner. I saw lots of deer, which is cool. I saw more deer than cyclists, runners, etc., actually. As it got darker, I saw bats, too, in the wooded parts of the trail. I felt, rather than saw, why I was seeing bats: tiny bugs, billions of them, come out right as the sun goes down. These bugs pelted me so fast I thought at first it had started to rain. Creepy feeling, sailing along the trail (hauling ass to try and get back to the car while there was still some light, struggling to see the trail) being peppered by insects.
It got harder and harder to see the trail in the wooded sections. Eventually, I heard voices coming from behind a house that backed to the trail. I could go forward on the trail but it was a black hole as it disappeared into the woods. And I remembered that part of the trail (between 119th and College) was the craziest combination of hills and turns.
I went to the voices and asked directions. The kid told me to take a right and then an immediate left on 114th (which he described as a 'really steep hill' to my delight) to Ridgeview, then right to 119th and right to my car.
As I huffed and puffed up 114th, which was the Return of the Son of Ultimate Granny Gear, a couple of boys I'd guess were about ten asked me if this was tiring. I grunted that it was, and one of them said, 'I feel sorry for you.'
You and me both, I told them. I've been feeling sorry for myself awhile now. They thought this was funny, but I had to go back to panting and hoping I wouldn't pass out.
It was good to get back into civilization. Breath the wholesome goodness of car exhaust and ride through air free of tiny bugs thanks to liberal doses of insecticide. And street lights, they don't put those on the trail.
The detour added about a mile, far as I can tell, to my ride, which I'm calling 18 miles. 17 if I'd stayed on the trail, I think my detour added roughly a mile of extra east-west travel.
The park was still unchained when I made it back to my car at 10:00. I guess maybe next week I can try and see if I can get to the river and back...
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