And the Skies are not Cloudy All Day

Day 89 • May 29, 2012 • St. Francis to Atwood, KS •  42 miles

By now Mom and Gretchen were on their way back to Denver from Topeka so we decided to meet for a picnic lunch.  The town of McDonald has a nice park so Zoe and I waited there for them to arrive while Slash tore it up on the playground equipment.  There didn’t seem to be a lot going on in McDonald but maybe that was about to change–  according to a notice on the bathroom wall, with a five year commitment to live there you could get a piece of land for free.  Soon enough the Prius rolled up, filled with the kind of goodies that rarely make it on our menu.  Fresh sliced deli ham and turkey, Russell Stover chocolate, even a pint of Buffalo Sweat from Tallgrass Brewery in Manhattan.  Yum.

After lunch, Mom and Gretchen headed back to Denver, dodging (and occasionally not dodging) countless critters along the stretch where we had seen so much road kill a few days earlier. Gretchen needs an “I swerve uncontrollably for animals” bumper sticker.  Zoe and I reached Atwood in time to survey the damage from ninety mile an hour winds the night Zoe and I stayed at the B&B in Anton.  Crews were still cutting and hauling trees and branches that littered the park where we set up camp.  We were told of tents being shredded and blown away that night;  in fact there were tiny bits of tent fabric and grommets where we pitched our tent.  Every conversation we had or overheard began with an assessment of that storm. 

Our campsite was a beautiful spot right next to a lake and was once again free, including showers and Wi-Fi.  We’re loving Kansas!

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1 thought on “And the Skies are not Cloudy All Day

  1. A small clarification about the bumpersticker regarding my driving habits:….I don’t swerve because that is stupid and dangerous especially in my neighborhood of Northern California. I do brake however, in a straight and controlled manner if I’m not being tailgated (not likely in western KS). With this method I managed to spare many but not all innocent wild beasts from a grisley death. My mom riding shotgun is another story. I didn’t kill her but probably came close. How’s your neck Mom?

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