Kansas to Boulder

After we bid our permanent farewells to Wichita, we hit the road for Kanopolis State Park, not surprisingly located on Kanopolis Lake. I’m still not sure where the word Kanopolis comes from. I suppose the damm(n)ed river may have been intended to provide electricity for some hypothetical bustling metropolis in Kansas. Like I said, this is mere postulation, and I can certainly tell you that it did not occur. While we encountered a “mountain” upon entering Kansas, the rest of Kansas is flatter than an ocean. When Tori stood on the hood of the car, google maps registered a topographic change. Anyway, we arrived at the man made lake complete with man made sand beaches and a bunch of motor boats whizzing past our campsite. We did not have the luxury of a motor boat or jet skis, but we did enjoy relaxing next to the water, swimming in it a bit (though the limbs of the trees that had previously inhabited the area made swimming somewhat precarious), and enjoying a nice 6 pack of Keystone. Finally, we were ahead of schedule and had no need to rush anywhere. We made a fire and cooked a big pot of minestrone mixed with chili and broccoli and cheese soup mix. It turned out to be delicious and filling. We called it an early night and fell asleep as the sun was setting over the lake.
We awoke early the next morning due to the incredible whipping of the wind through our tent. The sun was fully up but it had not been the heat or the light that had awoken us. I have never heard wind so loud. While Chicago may be called “The Windy City,” I believe Kansas has more wind. Kansas does not, however, have cities, so I suppose the title sticks with Chicago. We tried to pack up camp quickly, but this became considerably more difficult due to the wind. Some of the stakes ended up blowing away with the stuff sacks and we had to chase them down the beach. Completely covered in sand, we headed up through the camp grounds to shower. After a refreshing shower, we hit the road. Only later did we discover that Tori had forgotten her camp towel at the showers, though we called the camp ground and they are mailing it ahead of us to Greg and Cesca in California. This was a really nice act of the officials there and we greatly appreciate it. I will say, however, that Kanopolis Lake is the only good thing about Kansas.
Driving through Kansas is the worst thing in the world. Here’s a list of better ways to spend your time:
watching grass grow, watching ice form, counting to one million, counting to two million, hitting yourself in the face, writing prequels to “Point Break,” living in Oklahoma, getting arrested intentionally so that you avoid ever having to go to Kansas, or EVEN (and this means a lot coming form me) reading anything by Dan Brown.
We listened to the radio for a little bit in Kansas, just to hear what goes on there. The first thing we listened to was a country radio station. For some reason, country is ubiquitous. It does not matter what state we’re in, the first thing on the radio is always country (except for one time when it was an awesome NPR station interviewing two doctors about the use of stents and how this was related to arguments regarding rising [un]necessary health care costs.) The song that was playing was one we had never heard before called “40 Hour Week,” which is about the hardship of blue collar working life in America. Here’s the link: http://www.countrygoldusa.com/40-hr_wk_MU.asp I found it hilarious, and also noted that it includes pretty much everyone except doctors and lawyers, in ironic contrast to the aforementioned exception to the country radio ubiquity. The other thing we enjoyed about Kansas radio was what appears to be their version of craigslist. I suppose they need some way to sell used things given that they don’t even have the real version of craigslist on the internet. http://www.craigslist.kansas.com/ People call in to the show and say something along the lines of (actual example) “Hey, I got an ole warshing machine that makes a buncha noise. ‘Fyou got an outdoor spot fer it, like in a garage, the clickin’ won’t bother ya none. Askin’ 30 dollars, come get it. 555-8972.” One notices quickly that everyone only gives 7 digit phone numbers. I deduced from this that Kansas has only one area code. This may or may not be true, but honestly, who cares?
Eventually, we came upon signs for “The Worlds Largest Prairie Dog.” Totally bored, we decided to stop. We met some Virginian’s driving out to Oregon in the parking lot outside of the attraction. They told us the animals looked depressed and it was a total gimmick. We couldn’t resist the excellent review and reluctantly shelled out the exorbitant $15 (total). The review was accurate: when we noticed the rattle snakes were docile, the old woman woke them roughly by banging on their cage and shining a flood light in their face. We felt sad. But we did see a jackalope, which made it worth the money. Plus, there were a bunch of other interesting animals and a ton of little prairie dogs, which look like rats in holes. The main attraction, however, turned out to be a statue. Weak sauce.
Eventually, we got out. That was the greatest moment of my life. As soon as we got to Colorado, life started improving and so did our surroundings. Boring plains gave way to luscious fields and craggy ravines. Stew got to see the Rocky Mountains for the first time, which rose majestically over not Kansas. When we arrived in Boulder, we went straight to REI where we took care of some last minute business. Then, we met up with Gab, Tori’s cousin in her dorm room. Gab has just started at University of Colorado Boulder and it was great to get to see her again. We went out to dinner at a place called “Cheba Hut,” a marijuana themed sandwich place. We understood that this was a local hot spot and a theme throughout Boulder, which seems to be something of the case. It seemed similar to Asheville, NC but nestled to a much greater degree in mountains. Both towns are absolutely beautiful and the people that populate them are so welcoming.
After dinner, we met up with Dave Tanner, a good friend of Stew’s from Semester at Sea. Dave and his roommate Lindsey offered to put us up for the night and greeted us with a huge welcoming party and fridge of beer. A massive thanks to Dave and Lindsey: that was an awesome party. Another one of Stew’s friends from Semester at Sea, Hannah Smith, ended up coming out to the party as well as Gab and her friends from school. We ate more delicious food at a pizza place called Cosmo’s late that night. Everyone in Boulder was so nice and welcoming. We had an amazing time and we cannot wait to visit again. The city is beautiful, the mountains are breathtaking, and the people seem so interesting and nice. Boulder, I give you an A+.
Also, Dave has a great futon.