The ADT Journey – Week 25

We entered Kansas from the southwest corner and would be departing through Kansas City, near the northeast corner.  Since much of Kansas originally was partitioned into square tracts of farmland, this meant a zigzag pattern of hiking east and north across the state.  From Dodge City to Larned we hiked north, perpendicular to the prevailing winds, this week we hiked east to McPherson.

As we now hiked mainly with the wind this was a much easier stretch.  It could be that 40+ mph winds were infrequent and we were just “lucky” during our time in western Kansas, but after a week of hiking crosswinds I gained a healthy respect for the great majority of thru-hikers who follow the ADT guide as published, from east to west.  Personally, I never would attempt bicycling the Kansas ADT in that direction.

We spotted puddles along the road during this stretch, something we ironically had not seen since leaving the desert. Southwest  Kansas was going through a drought until we came along.  They had only 5 inches of rain through the first nine months of that year, culminating in the dust storm on the first night of our arrival.  Over the past two weeks they received 2-3 inches more.  That’s us, the rainmakers!

In Great Bend we stayed at the First United Methodist Church, during their evening for choir rehearsal.  Since I can sight read music I was allowed to join in as they practiced for both the upcoming service and the more difficult Christmas music.  They placed me in the tenor section with three generations of the Webster family, who really did not need my help but I appreciated the opportunity to join in.

During the rehearsal Cindy conversed with Sarah Shire, wife of Brad the organist.  After rehearsal Brad came up to Cindy to salute us for what we were doing and placed a bill in her hand, a la John Nicholas.  He moved on before Cindy could react or fully comprehend what he did, but the bill she discovered in her hand was of a quite large denomination.

We slack packed out of Great Bend, then Ky picked us up and brought us back at the end of the day.  Pastor Stan Crawford of the UCC in Great Bend wanted a turn with us, bringing us to a Mexican restaurant with his family and then putting us up in a motel for the night.  During our dinner conversation Stan revealed that folks told him they saw an old man and a young blonde hiking into town together.  I am only six years older than Cindy, but that would not be the last time on the journey people implied how much older I looked.

While in Great Bend, journalist Karen La Pierre interviewed us for the Great Bend Tribune.  A couple of days later she sent me an email confessing she dreaded receiving the assignment of yet more cross country sojourners passing through town.  Cynical in regards to the deceptions or gimmicks of these sojourners, she claimed to be out of the office and got the “short straw” for our assignment.  Karen sent the email to reveal we pleasantly surprised her as being genuine in our purpose and pursuit, becoming the second Kansan in less than two weeks to express relief at how we stood out from a crowd of long distance travelers through the state.

Our next town stop featured the Lions Club of Lyons, who responded enthusiastically to my speaking engagement inquiry.  Our hosts Anita and Charlie Wedel kept in contact with us during the journey; Anita even came out to greet us hiking before we reached the town.  Soon after we arrived at the venue where the Club hosted a well attended and stocked potluck for us.

During our journey I adapted and changed my presentations to accommodate our ongoing experience.  Ever since witnessing a certain “news” station that specializes in stoking anger and apprehension make it seem that unions incredulously have greater political clout than corporations, I had been brooding over the cultivated perception in our society that people only want to work when necessary.  This is one of the misinformation pillars used to erode our beliefs in ourselves; believing in humanity becomes difficult if we perceive ourselves as lazy.  I interjected this grave concern of mine into my presentation.

I hit a nerve with the audience.  In short, the purchasing power of Walmart undermined the wages and viability of a major industry for that area.  This contributed to the region being depressed, as many rural regions across the country were in 2011.  The marvel to me was how, when their own personal experiences were telling them corporate greed was a problem, the heartland’s favorite “news” station so easily manipulated them with emotion into thinking labor was the problem instead.

When we arrived at McPherson, Pastor Connie Lunn of the First UCC invited me to deliver the sermon, which I based on the second commandment, love thy neighbor.  She also provided leads for us further along, including a connection that would lead us to stay at a few church camps in Kansas.  We also stayed at the church for a couple nights while Ky slack packed us.

We spent much of our time in McPherson with Annette Karr, learning of her Wink Ministries and visiting her home for supper one evening.  The ministry resulted from Annette’s children’s book about her one-eyed rescue poodle.  Wink loves people just as well as any other dog, and does not discriminate in her love.  During an early book tour the significance of this message hit home when Annette witnessed the joy of a little girl with one arm petting Wink.  Now Wink tours places with disabled children while Annette “goes along for the ride.”

Despite all the momentous events in towns, the most spectacular experience occurred as we hiked through the Cheyenne Bottoms National Wildlife Area, the major migratory flyway stop in the midst of our continent.  Arriving at Cheyenne Bottoms in November was the most blessed of our coincidental timings during the journey, as over 600,000 total of geese, ducks, herons, sandpipers, pelicans and other migratory birds dropped by the marshy wildlife area at the same time as us.  Not knowing about this spectacle until we arrived added to the awe inspired in us.

In addition to capturing the spectacle in photos, I recorded the sounds of hundreds of thousands of birds gathered together.  I also recorded Cindy’s reaction to the spectacle, a reaction of pure joy.  The end of the fourth movement for the American Discovery symphony features that recording of Cindy’s joy.  This reminder of the sound of Cindy, because of its singularity, is more precious than all the photos I ever took of her, a sound I now get to here several times a week as Cindy lies completely nonverbal and incapacitated in her bed.

We often are unaware of the magnitude of an experience until long afterwards.