Day 17: Topeka, Kansas to St. Joseph, Missouri 89 miles. 2850 feet of climbing (although it felt like a whole lot more!)

Not sure when I'll be back.  Not sure why I'd be back. 

Today was a good day.  A long day.  A very humid day.  But a good day.

We got some unexpected news this morning that changed our normal "get out of town" routine.  I should mention here that among our morning traditions, over breakfast we tend to listen to the Weather Channel.  It's always thrilling in the Plains States to see stories about tornados and hail storms and hear about thunderstorm forecasts while eating bowls of oatmeal and fruit.

The cresting waters of the Missouri River, taken from the Atchison, Kansas side.  Atchison was famous for its railroad (Atcheson, Topeka and Santa Fe line), the home of Amelia Earhart, and a landing site on the Lewis & Clark's expeditionary trail.

Anyway, back to this morning's news.  If any of you have been watching the Weather Channel yourselves, or have been privy to the recent weather patterns across the midwest, you'll know it's rained a helluva lot.  So much so that both the Mississippi and Missouri rivers are reaching cresting levels.  At 3:00 a.m. this morning, the weather service issued a warning about the Missouri River cresting any time after noon today in Atchison, the town we were riding through to cross the Missouri River into Missouri.  The local police were warning travelers that, in all likelihood, they would be closing the bridge across the river to all traffic once it reached 22.4 feet in height.  At 7:00 a.m. when we left the hotel for our ride out, the river was nearing 22 feet in height.  So this morning's ride became a bit of a race against time.  As such, I didn't stop to take pictures until I got to the other side of the river.

The next three days are some of the most challenging rollers on this entire trip.

We all rode hell bend for leather (love that expression and so appropriate here in cowboy country!) to reach Atchison, 57 miles away.  Happily, we all made it before 11 a.m.  The route in the morning also was accommodating.  Yes, we had rolling hills, but they seemed to be more gentle slopes, both up and down, than those we'd hit in the afternoon.  

Today's elevations.  That giant trough just before mile 60 is the Missouri River basin.  Think of it as a cross-section of what the land looks like around a big river.

I mentioned that it was quite humid today.  I found out later that it was a constant 90% humidity and it always looked as though a rain shower could break out at any time.  Fortunately, that didn't happen.  But my bike jersey was soaked through from the humidity and sweat; just as wet as my jersey was yesterday in the rain.  It was a choking kind of humidity all day. 

The elevation map is one way to show the ribbon of undulating roadway we faced today.  Here's a better example of the up/down/up/down kind of riding we are dealing with throughout the Missouri River Valley.  And notice, no shoulders.  We share the road with all manners of vehicles on this trip.

 A weird thing happened to me towards the last 15 miles of the ride.  I had followed the four Dutch riders plus Chuck, one of the fastest riders in the group, on the way out of the last SAG stop in the tiny town of DeKalb.  I'm not sure where I got the extra energy from, but after being passed on the flats by Franz, the fastest of the four Dutch riders, I decided to try and catch up to him.  By then, Franz was at least a quarter of a mile ahead of me and riding at a very fast pace.  Somehow, I got my speed up to 25 miles per hour and nearly caught him.  But, as I got close to Franz, I had exhausted my reserves and eased back into a more comfortable pace for myself, resigned to the fact that I could never keep up with such a faster pace.  At the point, Chuck, who had been behind me and watching my acceleration, passed me and joined Franz for the ride into St. Joseph.  The other three Dutch riders quickly passed me as well.  Figuring they'd be so far in front of me, I remained at my comfortable pace, content to just finish the ride alone. 

Coming over one of the final hills before entering St. Joseph, I was surprised to see all five riders stopped at a stop sign.  Although I was still far away from them, I could tell they weren't moving to cross the road.  Instead, all four Dutch riders were on their smartphones checking to see the results of the Netherlands/Mexico World Cup match (Holland won, 2-1).   I soon caught up with them and we all wound up riding the remaining nine miles into the hotel together.  About four miles later, thinking we had missed a turn, we stopped an oncoming rider to ask for directions.  She dismounted her bike, asked us about who we were and where we were heading and talked bike talk with the guys from Holland.  Before she left, she welcomed us to her fair city of St. Joseph, "Where the Pony Express started, and where Jesse James' life ended."

A perfect end to a good day of riding.  One thing about riding with the Dutch -- they love their beer at the end of a day's ride.  Today, we celebrated Chuck's birthday and the Netherlands World Cup win over Mexico.

Tomorrow, as we have a much needed day off, I'll try and further explore some of those stories, as well as do some laundry and wash down my bike.