Tuesday June 25:  Garden City, Kansas to Dodge City, Kansas
Distance:  50.9 miles
Total time:  4 hours 57 minutes
Riding time:  Unknown

Well, if the wind had to turn fickle this week, today was the right day.  Today's 50.9 mile ride was the shortest of the entire journey.  Yesterday's Tailwind of Consistent Assistance became today's Crosswind of Annoyance and finally, for the last 15 miles or so, the Headwind of Unbearable Reliability.  What might otherwise have been a three hour ride in the park deteriorated into an almost five hour survival pedalthon.  But that's all behind us.  Tomorrow is another day.

Morning is the best time.  The day promises nothing but hope - good weather, flat terrain, a following breeze and wide, smooth shoulders.  I like the routine that we've all fallen into, and I enjoy chatting with everyone as we prepare to ride.

My Cannondale Synapse is holding up well, though Magic Mark the Mechanic had to fix my rear brakes today.  Better in flat Kansas than on the Screaming Descent of Death after Donner Pass.  Thanks Mark.

Californians Dave and Doug share a joke before we start.

Jamie makes sure he's running 95 psi in his gatorskin tires.

And Leonard looks like he's ready to get the show on the road.

No Kansas corn or wheatfield pictures today.  I refer you to yesterday's installment if you can't remember what they look like.  But I couldn't resist a picture of the world's largest feedlot, which came accompanied by the world's largest odor of cow manure as we picked up the pace to ride by.  Note the real, live cowboy in the center foreground.

At mile 32 Jamie spotted Clark's Pharmacy in the metropolis of Cimarron, and we stopped in.  It was the highlight of an otherwise demoralizing ride.  Clark's is an old-fashioned soda fountain with old-fashioned friendly service.  I had a delicious vanilla shake, complete with the metal canister containing seconds.

Here are Mark, Jamie and Michael, along with the proprietress.

Everyone stopped at Clark's.  Here's a group shot.  From the left that's Jamie, Mark, Ray, Michael, your humble servant, and Leonard.

But after Saturday night comes Sunday morning.  Soon after leaving Cimarron, I was riding just ahead of Michael and heard a mini-explosion.  He suffered not just a puncture but a real blowout, as in it blew a hole in his tire, as you can see here.

Luckily we rode all day with Magic Mark the Mechanic, who had the tube and tire replaced in record time, and we were back on our sullen, slow and windblown way to Dodge City.

At mile 45 we met these guys riding the other way.  Good thing.  Dodge City just ain't big enough for them and us.

After checking into the hotel, we had time to go into town and check out the Boot Hill Museum.  It's surprisingly well done.  Here we are having a drink in the saloon with the Brits.

I had a Boot Hill Sarsaparilla.

I know.  Dodge City looks very civilized from the pictures above.  But there are some real bad hombres haunting the saloons and streets.  We took one look at these guys and turned around and walked out.  We don't want no trouble.

Here are Sean, me and Michael walking the mean streets of Dodge.

Tomorrow we go back to the long days - 92 miles to Great Bend, Kansas.  It's flat, and no rain predicted, so that's good.  There is talk of a 30 mile per hour headwind, and that's bad.  It shapes up to be a grind.