Wichita to Denver

Today was, I believe, the longest single stretch of one road that we'll encounter on this whole trip. 416 miles of I-70 West from Salina, Kansas to Aurora, Colorado, which is just east of Denver. My Uncle Tim and Aunt Marci live here with my cousin Matthew, who is home from college for about another week before he will head back to Oklahoma. He plays the drums and is a big music guy, so we talked bands and things tonight, which was nice. We also had the best meal of the whole trip so far, and on the very same day as the hands-down worst. See, this afternoon, Kirsten and I were both getting a little peckish in the middle of nowhere in Kansas, so she pulled out the atlas to find out what the next town was along the interstate. Wilson, Kansas was right off I-70, and it was named in the atlas, so we figured it was probably a pretty decently sized town and would have something worth eating. Wrong on both counts. Wilson promotes itself as "The Czech Capitol of Kansas," which sounds all cool and exotic until you think about it for a minute and realize that that makes about as much sense as "The Heaviest Concentration of Peruvians in All of Nome, Alaska": it doesn't take much. I imagine there was something like, "Wait, you're telling me there are no other Czechs in the entire state of Kansas? That's ridiculous. Fine, well, then we're the Czech capitol of the state! Ha!" We had driven through Wilson looking for Wilson before we realized what had just happened. The only place to eat was a small local place called Made From Scratch. And, I mean, it was made from scratch after all, and that means quality, right? What it really meant was this: a convenience store emptied of its merchandise racks, filled with portable tables and chairs, and supplied with a small assortment of chaffing dishes, each with a different sketchy food. It all looked like it had been prepared the day before, left out, reheated, and left out again. And yet the adventurer in us (it should actually be noted here that Kirsten had the good sense to turn the place down on first appraisal and that I insisted on the grounds that it would be an Experience) went ahead and stayed. I have been to a dozen countries, met a variety of people in my life, and been in lots of interesting and unusual circumstances, but I can confidently say that I have never felt more out of place than I did today at Made From Scratch. It was an Experience, for sure. After we were done being polite and being watched intently by (all?) the citizens of Wilson, we got back on I-70 and then stopped about twenty miles later for some McDonald's. But we have a good story now, so I guess it's all good. The rest of Kansas and the first half of Colorado were kind of surprising, Kansas because it was actually kind of scenic and nice, and Colorado because it's intensely boring until right when you get to Denver, when the Continental Divide springs up unexpectedly and pelts you with all sorts of majesty and everything. It was too cloudy today to really see legitimate mountains (remember, we stopped a few miles short of Denver), but I'm hoping for some good mountain scenery tomorrow. On the way in, we saw a herd of buffalo (seriously), and we were going to exit to see "the largest prairie dog in the world" until we realized that it weighed 8,000 pounds and so was, clearly, not a real prairie dog. And if it was, we wouldn't want to get anywhere near it anyway. The evening here at the Walters' place has been very pleasant, and dinner was delicious. It's a shame we can't stick around to see Denver, but tomorrow is a LONG day of driving, so we have to head out nice and early if we want to make it to Boise with our sanity intact. Kirsten says "Helllooooo!" to you all, and while this little trip journal has been all about us, we have been thinking of our friends back east as well, and we both hope that you're doing well and having as nice a week as we are. Do let us know how you're doing. We'll look forward to talking to you soon. Stay tuned for the Denver-Boise leg of the journey. Good night.
Kent