Salina to Colorado Springs

Flatlanders

Flatlanders is what the Vermonters call us Massachusans (Massachusites?) Well, they've got another name for us, too, but we won't go there. But they don't know squat about flat. From the middle of Indiana to a hundred miles into Colorado, just a tetch over a thousand miles, that's flat!

Lots of sky and nary a cloud.

Flat and more flat, but where it's flat the wind will blow, and these hundred of white windmills, hundreds of feet tall, break the landscape near Hays, Kansas. It's a long way across Kansas. It's only ranked 15th in size among the states--but you could fit 10 Massachusettses in it!

A few of the hundreds of windmills generating energy from the prevailing westerlies.

Say jeez

Shortly before this trip began we decided we needed a new camera. The old one, a very reliable Canon Power-Shot A520 was a gift to Mary Frances on her retirement from a FEMA core postition in 2005. We brought it on our Seattle-Alaska-Grand Canyon adventure--and it nearly ended up in the Grand Canyon--but it doesn't have quite the number of megapixels everyone insists you need to have today. A couple of weeks before we left for this trip a monsoon took the ceiling out of our kitchen and the new camera got a bit damp. Turns out it no longer works at all, so we are back to our old Canon, and our two cell phones, of course. Almost all electronic equipment takes pictures today. I smile when I walk past the toaster.

One of the ubiquitous sights in Kansas is the grain elevator. When you spot one of these, you know where the railroad tracks are.

A grain elevator stands like a castle in the prairie.

Bawdy in the Bible Belt

Another ubiquitous sight along the Interstates throughout the midwest and the plains, often off the same exit as a church is the Adult Superstore sign. We can't really figure how they can pay the rent on so many of them. Hell, we don't even know what the heck is in them, although we've enjoyed speculating about it. The State of Kansas is attempting to make the signs illegal, but have taken some major heat from the trucking industry. Hmm.

Next to "Jesus Saves" this is about the most common sign on the Interstate.

Our pal Patty

Our electronic friend and constant traveling companion is Patty Tripp, our Garmin GPS device who is patient to a fault with our deviating from her directions to seek a caramel iced coffee from a nearby McDonald's or leave the highway to fill the old bus with gas. But, lately, we're beginning to notice just a tinge of attitude from Patty, like this morning, when we were leaving Salina, Kansas, and she guided us north to Route 72, and immediately insisted we get back off and demanded we return to where we started. The second time we entered Route 72, she didn't say a word, but we could sense her holding back a snicker.

The irrigators responsible for the crop circles you see from the air are works of art from the ground.

A spider-like irrigator lies in a Kansas field.

Seeking the mountains

Not much changes as you approach Colorado:

Straight and flat, but after a while, somewhat beautiful.

Same road, fifty miles later. The merest hint of mountains at the horizon.

Well into Colorado, still very flat.

Fifty more miles later, and the mountains are finally part of the landscape. That's Pike's Peak in the middle.

From Route 24, we approach the real Colorado.

As we enter Colorado Springs, Pike's Peak rules over all.

The mountains grow, and so does the traffic.

Eavesdropping

Mary Frances loves to listen to other people's conversations when we're out to eat. Tonight a couple behind us who she figured out were a divorced couple having dinner together, were talking. Said she: "I should have figured it out when neither your mother nor your brother liked you."

Tomorrow: the mountains, Leadville, Vail and Black Hawk.