3 notes &
Hometown Bicycling
Opinions: I’ve never been a fan of them. I don’t write about mine. I don’t often care to read about others’.
With that being said…
It is, in my opinion, a great idea to bicycle around wherever it is you are.
Now let me try and clarify that slightly vague statement. I live in Henderson, NV. Before I started bicycling around here, I knew the freeway and a handfull of neighbor corridors. The rest of the city was too crappy to explore, right? Fortunately, negatory. Once I started putting a few miles under my saddle, I began noticing all the friendly little neighborhoods, the parks and the quieter roads with bike lanes (which actually are crappy here, but I’ll not get into that). I know where there are water fountains. I know there’s a guy that lives near the Black Mountain golf course willing to help me if I have bicycle issues out in his neighborhood. When you’re forced to go 10-15mph, you have plenty of time to look around. You learn the street names. You get a feel for the layout of the city.
Fact is, I still hate driving around here. I’d much rather hop on my bicycle and take the back roads to run my errands. After speaking with a friend who is a native of this city, she completely agrees. She said that it wasn’t until she hopped on her bicycle and started exploring the back roads that she really learned the city.
Now on to the meat and potatoes of this post…
I recently took a trip back to my hometown of Hugoton, KS. It’s way out in the southwest corner — out where it’s flat, dry, windy and nothing by fields, right? Negatory, again. Though I must admit, I say that with a new found perspective in mind. For this trip back, I decided to drive back with my bicycle in tow. I wanted to make an extended stay out of it and get a little saddle time in to explore where I once lived at a slower pace (which is funny as it seems most think Kansans are slow enough as is :-). Having grown up there, I knew it mostly as wide open and desolate country, which isn’t entirely inaccurate. However, it wasn’t until I did a little exploring via pedal power that the sentiment — that bit about “wide open and desolate” — became a little most positive.
My favorite ride of the area put me at around 80 miles. This was enough to really get out of town, make a wide loop to a couple neighboring towns, stop off at a childhood fishing hole and cruise back home. Normally — well I say normally as what normal was when I was growing up — you’d have few reasons to visit the small neighboring towns, especially the one with a population of 43. I always knew it was there and even passed through it a couple times, but it was never a destination. Until now.
In planning my ride, I knew the roads up in those parts were likely a little less traveled; exactly what I was looking for. The town, albeit small, surely had a few hydrants around to refill my water bottles. Thus, it became destination number one.
Smooth open road across the Cimarron River Valley.
And am I ever glad I followed my plans. After a ride that wildly exceeded my expectations — smooth roads, curteous drivers, sprawling Cimarron River valley — I arrived in “shit, I don’t even like driving there” Richfield, KS. I can’t claim to know much about the town. Wikipedia doesn’t know much more. I spent about an hour there, pedaling around the streets — resting in the park near a hydrant — and only saw two people. One was passing by in a pickup, another I saw when stopping into the post office to ask about a paved road. It ended up being a pleasant experience, though I could probably go on with emotion-filled ramble-fest about how sad it is to see small towns like this completely dry up. Such is life.
A church and a primary street in Richfield, KS
Leaving Richfield, I headed on to side #2 of the triangle-shaped loop I was riding; back down across the Cimarron River valley again.
Heading South back across the river
This road is where you’d find Wilburton Ponds: a little wet spot fishing hole in the dried up Cimarron River. I made it here a few times as a child years ago and was curious what came of it. It would be a six mile limp down a hard-packed dirt road through open pastures on slick road tires, but I’d get there eventually.
This makes road tires unhappy. Six miles of this make cyclist unhappy.
Turns out, not much had changed from what I remembered. However, it was all surprisingly beautiful compared to the image I think I’ve concocted in my mind since moving away.
Wilburton Ponds, still there
As a matter of fact, that sentiment holds for the entire ride. Western Kansas is really beautiful. Sure when you’re passing field after field, it’s a little tougher to draw that conclusion. But once you get out to an area still filled with the native grasses (which coincidently means the land is probably too poor to plow up and plant anything), the beauty opens up. As I sat through the miles, I began wishing I had taken up bicycling many years sooner. Had I given myself the chance to get out and explore my home territory at a slower pace, I may not have been quite so eager to leave (though I still would have, believe me!)
Coming full circle here, I’ve become a huge advocate of bicycling where you live. While it’s nice when you can ride around the streets of your town, the world really opens up when you can tolerate enough saddle time to get some substantial miles on. If you can push 100 miles, then you can obviously get far far away from where you’re familiar. It wasn’t that long ago that ten miles was a feat for me. Keep pushing yourself and those goals grow faster than you’d think. It doesn’t have to be a race. But it can be an adventure.




