westward expansion; smack dab in the middle in salina, ks

I'll admit it: I didn't take this picture. But I took one almost exactly like it, like probably every tourist who has stood in this spot before me. Today I felt like Lewis & Clark, and countless other westward-turning pioneers before me. For one, I am very grateful that they did all the hard work, because driving across the country gets tiring enough as it is without having to blaze your own way.

This morning in Rolla, MO, I got my first real taste of what was ahead of me on my journey west. Rolla (pop. 18,000 and home to University of Missouri: Science & Technology) sits atop a series of rolling hills in the northern Ozarks. I took a quick jog on some of these hills and, even from there, I could see the country stretching out before me. Once on the road, as I wove on US-63, up and down, through rust-stained trees beckoning with autumn, I began to see it: some grassy brush here, wide open skies there. Ah, yes. The Great Plains. Unlike Lewis & Clark, I knew how many hundreds of miles lay ahead.

Before I effuse too much more about how spectacular and beautiful today was, I should also mention that in Missouri and Kansas today it was 75 degrees without a cloud in the sky. This may have influenced things a little.

Missouri, as a state, is somewhat of a mixture. Geographically, it is caught between the neverending prairie, the lush Ozarks, and the flat cornfields of the Midwest. I visited the state museum at the Capitol building, and learned about Missouri's history; likewise, during the Civil War, Missouri was never quite Union and never quite Confederacy. In the major battles in Missouri, it quite literally was brother against brother, and if you picked a different day or different city the prevailing sentiment could easily have been different. Missouri technically was never a slave state, even though Governor Claiborne Fox Jackson wanted to join the Confederacy (when called to vote, it lost by the slim margin of 98-1) and picked up his government and fled as Union troops descended upon the capital. Anyway. I find myself continually fascinated, and heartbroken, by the Civil War.

US-50 was effectively the first coast-to-coast highway; at any rate, its creation preceded the interstate system by a good thirty years. I have somewhat of an affection toward it because it runs through Athens, so I made a point to travel on it again. I picked up 50 just before Jefferson City, and rode it all the way to Kansas City. Along the way I drove through many small towns: Vienna, pop. 628; Freeburg, pop. 423; Westphalia, pop. 320; Tipton, pop. 3,261; Syracuse, pop. 172; Sedalia, pop. 20,339. Stopped for gas in Warrensburg, MO. I love small towns.

And I will underscore again and again the vast superiority of traveling this way compared to the interstates. I was happy while I was driving, grinning from ear to ear as I drove through the countryside and watched the hills give way to the plains, slowing every now and again to catch a snippet of small-town America. I doubt it took much longer than sticking to the interstate, and I never got bored. As the weather warmed up, I was able to roll down the windows (didn't think I'd do that again before spring) and feel the breeze in my hair. Country music played on the radio. I headed due west. I was in America.

I had to loop around Kansas City on I-435 (five lanes of rushing traffic - ick and double-ick) but as soon as I got around the city I cut onto US-56, another great old route that took me right into the great plains, the wide open prairie, the grassland, and the sun. Oh, the sun.

The prairie sun burns white-hot, shooting its yellow rays seemingly forever into the distance, and as it sinks toward the horizon those rays become wide ribbons of light that make the prairie look larger and larger. I was driving straight into it, this huge, ethereal sunset. These white-hot ribbons dashed between the unending sea of prairie and the descending blue cloak of sky that was at once daytime and nighttime. I drove on. The sun sunk a little further, and suddenly it was a glaring neon orange, larger still, and utterly inescapable. I drove on, shielding my eyes, and absolutely surrendered to nature's vastness. The sun sank, reddening, and drawing the cloak of night. Dusk fell, but the intensity of sunset's rays made use of headlights futile yet, and it stayed this way for another half hour - the sky darkening, the sun hanging on, as if it personally had to extinguish day in every corner of the plain. This sight took my breath away; my eyes filled with tears; this is why I headed west, so I could see a wild prairie sunset and feel what Indians, pioneers, and Kansas folk for years have felt.

Eventually US-56 veered south, so I found Kansas state route 4, which effectively got me into Salina with little fuss. Salina is right where I-135 and I-70 meet, which some term the "crossroads of America" (although it seems many places stake claim to this name) but at any rate it is pretty much smack dab in the middle. Once the sun finished setting, it was pitch black in the way it really only can be out in the middle of nowhere, so the bright lights of the city and the zoom of the interstate were finally welcoming. I am grateful for the beautiful weather today, because it looks like I'll see some snow heading into Colorado tomorrow. Today I followed the Old Santa Fe Trail for quite a bit of ways, and so far, as ways to cross the great plains go, I have enjoyed Kansas much more than I enjoyed Nebraska two years ago.

One other advantage to being so exactly in the middle: I am really, really on my adventure now; there is no turning back, and the only solution is to press on to Oregon! I can't express how oddly right it feels to be boldly going west, following signs that say "west" and knowing that I'm heading for Oregon. So many things to ponder while I spend the day alone in my car....

I am so happy to be on an adventure. I am happy to be an adventurer. I found myself laughing out loud more than a few times today, because I was just so thrilled to be on this adventure, or at some little discovery I had made.

Day 3 mileage: 422. Total mileage: 1099.