July 6-8, Larned, KS

Rolled in here on the 6th and have taken two days rest partly on a doctor’s order, partly due to my realization that I needed some rest.

The need to see a doctor had been building for about a week as riding became more uncomfortable. Without going into details, I now have salves, ointments, pads, new respect for certain vitamins and minerals needed by skin and a gel cushion for my bike seat. I will get back on the bike tomorrow.

Larned is not bastion of culture or much of anything else except for being a warm and welcoming community. It is disappointing to ride through communities like this and see them just barely hanging on. On the ride from Tribune I passed an abandoned school in Amy. It looked to be in good condition. Across the road was an empty church. A few vacant houses were scattered around. The only sign of life was at the grain elevator.

Long time residents in these communities talk about how vibrant life was in them 30-40 years ago. They eagerly talk about the number of school children, gas stations, the variety of stores, car dealers, etc. that each community had, their voices rising in the excitement in the telling of how it used to be. Then there will be a brief pause before they shift their voices to a more somber, resigned modulation as they describe how the young have sold their inherited property or rented it to local farmers or corporate farms. Newspapers feature articles about counties and school districts that are considering merging because alone they can’t afford to offer adequate services.

This isn’t the stuff of daily TV but if we leave these people, places and events out of the puzzle that is America then we can’t see America.

The Ogallala Aquifer, one of the largest in the world, covers virtually all of Nebraska, and portions of eastern Colorado, western Kansas, and the Oklahoma and Texas Panhandles. As I ride over this huge underground lake, the naturally high desert landscape flourishes with water drawn from the Aquifer by the pivoting sprinklers that look like huge skeletal caterpillars. From 31,000 feet up the watered abundance looks like green and gold poker chips on the roulette table of the Great Plains.

The reality is that in 1950 the Aquifer was just 100 feet below the ground surface, today it’s more than 200 feet below. Natural replenishment is not keeping up with withdrawal for irrigation. In less than 100 years, it is predicted, the Aquifer will be unable to support the current rate of usage. What will be the fate of today’s surviving Great Plains communities?

I don’t remember who said it, but: Man is not superior to nature but a part of an interconnected web of being.