Well, I tried to but couldn't get close enough to the statue of a rampaging bull and some famous cowboy or sheriff, smack dab in the old part of Dodge City, Kansas, to prove I was there - and, wait for it...getting outta Dodge!
![:grin: 😁](https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/emojione/assets/png/1f601.png?v=2.2.7)
I had the best sleep of the whole trip last night. It stormed with hail, rain and heavy wind as predicted. Only one bump in the night disturbed me. I opened the room's door to see rain lashing around wildly. The bike just sat there, taking it on. I towelled it off at 6AM and hit the road before 7 o'clock. The sun rose around 7:45, all red and angry against the grey clouds. Now it's just sort of tranquil, low clouds, looking like it'll clear off in a while.
I'm eating at a café which took ages to find. I spotted every chain as I rode through town, but no local cafés with muddy pickups outside. Those are usually the best. Maybe the pandemic chimed the death knell for many of them. Macca's & Denny's don't need my money.
It's about 60° F with heavy air, some of it due to the ever-present & massive cattle feed lots & abbatoirs here in Kansas. I feel sorry for those poor dumb beasties, and won't eat them but sure appreciate my leather boots and belt.
I'm heading for Fayetteville AR as planned, to ride in the Ozarks.
[size=32]I left last week, rode over the Cascades of Washington state in dark, cold rain. It cleared by the Oregon border. From there I got onto two laners and made it to Twin Falls, Idaho, where I stopped for the night. Next day I turned up in Snowville, Utah to Mollie's café, only to find it closed. Up the street a bit - there's not much in Snowville - I sated my hunger and need for caffeine at the Ranch House café, my new favourite.[/size]
[size=32]That night I camped in the city park of Maybell, Colorado. I renamed it Dogtown in honour of the local dogs, and distant coyotés, which chimed in unison throughout the cool night. Dawn saw me an hour down the road having rolled up my swag before first light. I ate brekky in Steamboat Springs, 32° F on the way into town. God is good as he allowed some smart, larger brain than mine, to invent heated jacket liners and handgrips, thermostatically controlled.[/size]
[size=32]Next coupla nights, after rocketing up and down Colorado highway 14, often over 3,000 metre (10,000') passes, I stopped at a long-time mate's new place in Loveland, close to eastern Colorado's dry plains.[/size]
[size=32]Yesterday had me fighting a strong southerly that blew the few trees and debris sideways. That tempest turned to a monster hailstorm which dampened my plans to camp. So a motel it was where I managed the best sleep of the trip so far.[/size]
[size=32]The sun is glowing through lifting clouds as I write, portending a good riding day.[/size]
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Many more piccies to follow. This one is of the quaking aspen all gold-like in autumn splendour.