Return Trip Day 2 (6/14/05)

Much as it pained me to leave Le Cite de Limon, I had places to go and Pup to see. So I hit the fuckin' road, with the KC Metro area as my goal. I left pretty early in the am, because my aim was to make it to KC in time to get to the Royals game against the Dodgers. Pup assured me getting tickets wouldn't be a problem. Colorado from Limon to the Kansas border was . . . nothing (though the map tells me I somehow passed by the Kit Carson County Carousel -- say that 3 times drunk -- without taking note of it; next time). I also passed through Genoa, CO, making me feel better about Europeanizing Limon. As beautiful as the mountains of Western Colorado were, that's how utterly unremarkable the flat expanse of Eastern Colorado was.

Of course, then I hit Kansas. Before I get into the details of what I experienced in Kansas, let me flat out declare that I can't imagine there is a more boring state, topographically/scenically etc., anywhere in this great country of ours. And how do they attempt to deal with that? By lowering the speed limit 5 mph from what it was in CO. As if to say, "Hah! It's boring as shit and you need to spend an extra hour driving through. We spend our lives here - pity us!"

Now, the whole ride out and back, I had been exceeding the speed limit. Significantly. But I was also sure to drive responsibly - the roads are straight and not overly crowded for the most part, and I was just keeping pace with traffic. Or setting the pace for the traffic to keep up with. Whatever. I did not have a radar detector with me; I've soured on them as they give off false alarms making you slow down for no reason, and also sometimes fail to go off as you cruise past a cop at 90. But I had been conscious of scanning the highway for 5-0. I must say, I'm pretty good at spotting them - ahead or behind - and adjusting my speed accordingly. And there should have been no easier place to do so than WaKeeney, Kansas - it's totally flat and you can see 100 miles in either direction down the road. So just how I totally failed to spot the Trooper until he pulled alongside me in the left lane escapes me. But I looked over and there he was - just behind me in the next lane. Now there were other cars ahead of me going just as fast. One that had actually pulled out to pass me just a few minutes before. But I looked up and knew who he wanted. The guy in the BMW with NY plates. I slowed. He slowed, pulled in behind me in the right lane, and lit me up. I pulled over, and didn't even think for a second that I could avoid a ticket. I thought maybe he'd cut me a litle break - give me a ticket for a slightly lower speed. So I did everything right - stayed in the car, rolled down the window, ignition off, seatbelt on, don't reach for the glove compartment to get the registration. Didn't help.

Trooper came over to the window and said, "I matched ya doin' 92. Can I please have your license and proof of insurance." I said, "Of course, sir. I didn't think I was going 92." As I got him my license and insurance card, he said that he paced me at 92, the radar said 92, and that even as he pulled up behind me, I was still doing 91. This was all likely true. I know that I had, at points, exceeded 110. There were a few times where I said to myself, "Hey, you should probably slow down," took my foot off the gas, and, 15 seconds later, watched the needle slowly ease back to the left of 95. I had to explain that neither of the addresses on my license was current, and waited while he went back to the car to make sure I wasn't wanted for passing bad checks in Little Rock. Long story long, he returned with a ticket, explained to me the procedure for pleading guilty or no contest by mail (assuming I didn't want to appear in Trego County District Court on July 18, which would have been difficult considering I'll be in Shanghai), and left me with the following pearl of wisdom: "Limit in Kansas is 70. I suggest you slow down, sir." For $168, he could have given me some more sage advice, no?

But I didn't let it faze me. I pulled away, determined to enjoy the rest of the ride. Except the rest of the ride was still in Kansas. One thing that Kansas does have that NY doesn't - an abundance of country music stations. It's true, NY has ZERO country stations. And LiAps loves the country. So I was switching back and forth between listening to my ipod and scanning local stations for good country (and other) stuff. During the lunchtime hour, I was, apparently, listening to Boomer's Noon Saloon on Y102, The Country Bull, out of Hays, KS. At one point, I was invited to dial *102 on my cell phone to make a request. So I did. And damned if I didn't get through to Boomer and make my fist ever radio station request. In the middle of fucking Kansas. I got reception on that station just long enough to hear my own voice on the radio 20 minutes or so later, followed by Callin' Baton Rouge by Garth Brooks, played just for me. It didn't quite put the $168 back in my pocket, but I felt a little better about Kansas.

Speaking of Kansas (as I will for the rest of this post), somebody tell me: are a disproportionate number of astronauts from the state, or is it just the only state that feels the need to put up a sign on the highway proclaiming every dipshit town "Home of Astronaut XX YY?"

I didn't stop at any astronaut towns. But, after 50 miles or so of seeing signs for "The Heartland's Premiere Winery," offering free tastings, I decided that, since I was due for a pee break anyway, I'd sample some vintage Kansas Jesus Juice at Wyldewood Cellars in Paxico. I didn't have great expectations, but figured I'd go in with an open mind. And I'm proud of myself. Because I think I kept a fairly straight face as I tasted several fruit-based wines out of screw-cap bottles, swished them around in my mouth and spit them in the basin thingy, making conversation with the guy behind the counter about the subtle hints of . . . wait . . . don't tell me . . . ahhhh! Rhubarb! I, of course, had to buy a couple of bottles, one of which was gifted to the 'rents, the other of which is currently aging in my rack. I'm considering going out and buying some Boone's or Mad Dog 20/20 so the Wyldewood has some peers to hang wit.

After my stop in Paxico, it was smooth (but slightly slower) sailing to Pup's place. He left a key under the mat for me and everything. Sweet. I chilled out at his place while waiting for him to get home from work ("My son worrrrrkks?!?!?!?!?"). Then we swung by to grab a friend of his and headed out for a night of KC BBQ, Royals baseball, and beer.

It was a fine evening. And a great halfway point for my trip home.