In the morning, everything was quiet. And wet. I discovered that I had left one of my panniers open, but fortunately, everything inside was waterproof. I rolled up my wet tent and packed it away, knowing that it would never dry anyway in the damp air.

It was a pleasant ride through light rain that day, being led from one grain silo to another. I could see the next stop from 8 miles away, because of the clear air, and also because of the grain silos. Anytime there were two adjacent grain silos, Kansans called it a city.

I noticed several things about restaurants along the route. When you ordered iced tea, it usually meant all you can drink. And the waitress would keep coming back asking if you wanted more. There was no such thing as a host or hostess outside of California. They had no concept of “Wait here to be seated.” You just found a place and sat down. And prices were extremely reasonable! A 16 oz. steak dinner in Sheridan cost only $8.95, complete.

i’m now thinking that the steak dinner, which i didn’t get, was in ness city.

The torn tire was still with me, and was starting to get knobby. I could feel the rough ride of a bulging and unbalanced tire. Larned showed as a city of appreciable size on my map (perhaps big enough for a 700 mm tire), so I made that my destination for the day. The map said it was 87 miles to Larned. It was a typo — in fact, it was closer to 99! It was even longer for me, because I took a scenic detour.

I decided on the scenic route when I came to a junction and realized that the BikeCentennial route would have me go 4 miles over a muddy dirt road. Instead, I decided to check out the asphalt on the main highway.

Larned did have a bike shop, and the bike shop did have 700 mm tires. Unfortunately, they only had one at the time, at it was a 700 X 20. To those unfamiliar with tire dimensions, this was a 3/4″ wide racing tire. Using this tire would be like putting on a size 30 jockstrap as my only clothing to go out in a snowstorm. Sure, it fits, but…

I looked at my heavily torn tires, and decided that a jockstrap was better than being naked.

I stayed at the Country Inn in Larned, for $17.95. In the room, I could spread out my wet tent to dry. Dinner was at Pizza Hut. A man named Michael Cordova invited me to join him (I paid for my own meal). He recommended Cavatini. I also asked him for marriage advice, and he said that when you fight, declare that you need some air and go outside, so that things can calm down. He drank an entire pitcher of beer by himself while I was there.