Summer Trip IV

"...its about the journey, not the destination..."

     When I plan my trips I choose distances for each day, but this is not written in stone. Typically if I see something interesting I will go and explore. With the state of my tires, and the effect the heat was having on them, this curtailed exploration. Sometimes unexpected factors can have a dramatic impact on the trip, both positive and negative. Once again the unexpected is what makes touring so much fun.

A look in side of the Twisted OZ Motorcycle Museum in Augusta KS.

     I checked El Dorado looking for some neat, local restaurant where the locals gathered every day to have coffee. As I searched on the iPad I could find no such place. Anxious to get on the road I surrendered and did something I usually avoid. I went to McDonald's for breakfast. Guess what I found. There were probably twenty "local" senior citizens sitting in groups of various sizes having coffee and starting their day. In fact this McDonald's had become the "local restaurant people gathered in to start their day." The changing face of America.

Interesting building. The museum has grown into a second building  just to the left. In between a picnic table and some shade,

     I don't like riding through cities, so I rode south out of El Dorado planning to take a long detour south to avoid riding through Wichita. I rode US 54 south to US 400, rode west to Augusta KS and then went south on US 77 on my long detour. As I rode on US 77 I thought about my tires, and the number of miles I had yet to cover to get to Colorado Springs and new tires. Reluctantly I turned around went back 5 miles to Augusta, "girded my loins" for the run through Wichita on US 400.

The bike in the foreground is a Suzuki RE 5 rotary engined bike. My roommate in college, Curtis, had the same bike, but a different year. 

     As I rode through Augusta I noticed a small sign on the left side of the road that said Motorcycle Museum. Glancing at the clock on the bike I decided to go take a look. There were two guys looking in the windows as I got off of the bike. They had also seen the sign and decided to take a look. A glance at the door showed that the museum opened in 20 minutes or so. The other two fellas had to get back on the road, but I decided to stay and take a look. I found a picnic table in the shade and sat down to read for a while.

A beautiful Norton Commando in the foreground, and just to the left you can seen the red gas tank of  a Honda 750 Four,which was the bike that ended the dominance of Harley's and British bikes. 

     At the appointed hour a pickup truck pulled up and a gentleman got out. He turned out to be the curator for the museum. As we sat there and talked a Harley pulled up and that fella joined the conversation. Soon another bike pulled up, this one a 20 year old Honda GB500 TT in pristine condition. Over the next half an hour another couple of guys stopped by to see if there was a ride planned for the day, and what everyone was doing. I sat for an hour and talked motorcycles and motorcycling with these people, and then the curator gave me the tour of the two building that make up the museum. Once again a an absolutely wonderful discovery and experience strictly by chance, meeting really nice people, all of which enhances the trip.

This is an Indian which has a custom built 6 cylinder motor. It was featured in a book which you can see open to the article sitting on the seat.

     The ride through Wichita was no big deal. Although there was construction on the eastern approach to Wichita, its no New York City. I stopped in Kingman KS for lunch, and then continued west on US 400 which would take me directly to Garden City KS for the night. The heat was the main issue. I saw several bank thermometers 100 or 102. The heat was oppressive. I stopped at the small town of Ingalls KS for gas, and bought two bottles of water. One was for me, the other for my shirt. When you get out here shade is at a premium. I found some under a tree just behind the gas station. I took my shirt off and poured the entire bottle of water on it, totally soaking the t-shirt. Putting the shirt on was a shock because I used cold water, but boy was it refreshing! I was delightfully cool as I rode out of Ingalls, now less than 45 miles to the motel. My shirt was totally dry in 15 minutes, but I was refreshed as I made my way to the motel, and my own private air-conditioning. With an I-Hop right next door I walked to dinner and then retired to my room to watch a movie. Tomorrow Colorado!