Backroads
Leaving Topeka, I had my first day of driving
without a scheduled arrival time. I took
advantage of this by deciding I didn't want to drive I 70 both directions across Kansas and
Colorado. I was sorely tempted to choose a radically different route back east. One of the leading
routes was to the north through Nebraska and past the Great Lakes, but I had tentatively
decided to be in Louisville, Kentucky on Sunday the 25th.
Driving along U.S. Highways doesn't always
provide one with rest stops. It was nice in a way because I resorted to visiting wonderful
state parks instead and they were much nicer than interstate rest stops... even when it
means sitting on a few latrines instead of commodes and not having any soap afterwards.
The wonderful thing about traveling U.S. Highways is that you see end up seeing things
you wouldn't even know you were missing traveling an interstate.
My first stop along U.S.-24 was outside of Manhattan. Here I saw the opportunity to
visit another dam (one forming Tuttle Creek Lake) and it was well timed as I was in need
of a stop. The stop on the top of the dam was a beautiful spot, and provided me with my
first of three deer encounters of my trip. All three were well behaved deer. The Tuttle
Creek deer was minding his own business off the beaten track. The other two along I-70
in Colorado were skillfully observing traffic awaiting a safe time to cross.
The lakes in Kansas are quite the jewels of sanity in this coastless state.
Another was Waconda Lake. Here in the protection of
Glen Elder Reservoir and State Park, I saw a vividly colorful wild pheasant.
Also along the shores of Waconda Lake, in Cawker City, I snapped my last
photograph. It speaks for itself.
I could go on, but why should I when I can
mention my supreme water stop and be done with it.
As well and good as all the lakes are in Kansas, I must say that I'm a southern
boy who was raised in a town nestled between two rivers, learned to play in black alluvial
dirt and mud, loved swimming in storm swollen rivers
(well, I must confess that I only remember doing this once, but it is among
the best of memories),
was educated along the banks of Lake Pontchartrain and the Mississippi...
Ahh, the Mississippi... supreme river. How could I not go through Cairo,
Illinois on my return? And it was everything I could hope for. Now that I think of it,
what words can describe it. You have to want to experience it first...
and then go see it for yourself.
I was regretting for a moment that I had not taken a second roll of film along the way, but
I'm glad I didn't try to take a picture from Cairo. It would have been disappointing.