Crossing Kansas into Colorado

Shadow art along KS-96 in western Kansas

Colorado / Utah Road Trip Day 1: Kansas City to Florence

Crossing Kansas can be quite the challenge, and usually identified as likely one of the most boring drives in the entire United States. Those traveling north/south probably do not usually notice it in the short 335 km, but tasked with a 661 km east/west journey, many come out the other side drooling and muttering nonsense.

Folks from Missouri and Colorado are most familiar with this inherent peril, and have steeled themselves against it prior to beginning the journey. The general landscape of the state is mostly to blame.

Traveling west from Missouri, the few and far between Flint Hills offer minor amusement, but as the Central Lowlands give way to the Great Plains the land becomes monotonously flat and the road arrow-straight for hundreds of kilometers. Provided vehicular equipment is well in order, one could easily nap without fear of leaving the road during most of the distance. Indeed, at times, numerous drivers seem to be doing just that.

Bridges over Clear Creek near Marion, KS

In an effort to avoid the usual monotony of Interstate 70, and the obstacle course of napping drivers, we choose a slightly different route for the journey west on this occasion. Arcing down through Emporia, we abandoned interstate travel on the west side of that growing upland prairie metropolis and began the long trek across US-50, KS-150, and US-56, before finalizing the Kansas portion of the trip on KS-96.

That last bit tested our limits of endurance, and upon arriving at the Colorado state line, we were so excited at the sight of the dilapidated sign we got of the car and danced around it.

There really are numerous things to see and do along the way though. Indeed, it is an absolute necessity to stop, see, and do things while crossing Kansas just to fend off the madness sure to come from such a journey.

Small scale Statue of Liberty in Lyons, KS

The Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve is right along the route we followed, but mesmerized by the water mirage through the windshield, it flew past before we even noticed. Several other landmarks of note ended up in the rearview mirror as well, victim to the same trance-like state induced by the highways of Kansas.

Other oddities presented themselves at the various breaks along the way, and I experimented with photographing others at high speed, from the comfort of our vehicle. There is some magnificent architecture standing firmly at the center of many small towns such as Lyons and Ness City, and the locals display their pride in these grand facades with strict maintenance.

McPherson County Court House

There is little to witness beyond these items though. Wide open blue skies, prairie as far as the eye can see at times, along with fields of corn and soybeans large enough feed the whole planet can be quiet distracting.

We only detoured from the planned route a couple of times. On the first occasion, Google must have assumed we were lost and attempted to redirect us to Interstate 70 in McPherson. We did not appreciate that particular diversion. The next available exit would have been 15 km down the road, had the Kansas Highway Department not had the foresight to know Google would attempt this sort of ploy and implemented turnarounds between the opposing directions of highway.

Rest Stop in Alexandar, KS

Another instance occurred near the little town of Alexandar, which from the road, appears to be nothing more than a grain silo and a rest stop commemorating the Fort Hays and Fort Dodge Trails. A wind turbine appeared on the horizon and my traveling companion fixated on this singular item rising up higher than anything within hundreds of kilometers, and insisted on getting close enough for a photograph.

The road out to said turbine was nothing more than a dirt trail, but we had acquired a 4x4 Jeep for this adventure and tumbled onto it undeterred, and without delay. We were in no fear of being lost; Google had our back, and the roads in Kansas lay nicely in a grid pattern.

We discovered a few potholes along the way, striking them hard and jarring our senses enough to slow our pace, lest we break some important component or another on the Jeep, thereby stranding us in the middle of nowhere.

Continuing for nearly a mile on this dirt road, the turbine mocked us by maintaining the same distance from as when we originally began the chase. We eventually gave up and stood our ground long enough to capture the beast on film as it waited for our next move.

Wind Turbine near Alexandar, KS

We ignored its siren call to lure us back to the chase though. Without paying any attention to Google, we blazed down the next nearby grid road headed west, then the next headed north, and we were back on KS-96 in no time.

KS-96 becomes CO-96 at the state line, which is really not much of a transition. We are still ambling across the Great Plains. I can only imagine how early settlers might have felt. I suppose that it is no surprise that most gave up along the way and just stayed in Kansas, as the general landscape offers no hope beyond what is immediately in view.

KS-96 near Leoti, KS

Sugar City appeared as the first stop for us in Colorado, for no other reason than to take refuge from the endless blue skies, a roasting sun, and to stretch a bit. The mountains we so eagerly sought were still nowhere in sight. They would not begin to appear on the horizon for another 25 km.

The town appears mostly abandoned, save a quaint little park where CO-96 bends to the north to cross the rails. It is the perfect stop for a walk in the shade of massive Elms, or a run through the grass. One other traveler was already enabling her puppy in that enterprise, and it seemed delighted at the contrast of abundant green and shade offered.

Hazy view of the mountains, just east of Pueblo, CO

Back on the road again, the mountains finally appeared somewhere just east of Pueblo, offering more relief than shade or grass could begin to match; that is, excepting their contributions to a simple change of scenery, and a break from the imposing rays of the sun. It was time to put the camera away and navigate society and the loons that litter the highway in such populated places.

Pueblo grew quite a bit since our last visit, more than 7 years ago. It seems that the size of the town doubles exponentially on every visit. As with most towns out west, it continues to expand no greater than two stories at a time across the desert. Some attribute that to maintaining visibility toward the horizon. I would say it has more to do with simply putting generally worthless land to good use.

Phantom Canyon Road

We have never really bothered to stop in this town, except for fuel. This time was no different. Passing quickly around and past the little community, we found ourselves entering Florence by a route previously unknown to us before Google Maps. In times past, typically coming in from the north, we simply continued south across US-50 from Phantom Canyon Road. That is always a good diversionary trip, a true test of vehicle suspension, and courtesy of other drivers.

Google had us follow CO-115 though, also known as the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial Highway. We completely missed stopping at the War Memorial, but it did offer us a new angle on the old town, which had grown a little bit too, and now proudly proclaimed the moniker of “Antique Capital of Colorado!”

There were more antique shops than I had ever seen in one spot too. They must growing the things to have such an industry. As a result, downtown was teaming with much more life than had been witnessed on previous visits. Boarded up storefronts were full or under development, and new businesses had sprung up everywhere.

Our final rest stop for the day, the Riviera Motel, emerged quickly; it’s orange and tan, brick and stucco appearance definitely a welcome sight. An older roadside motel from generations past, it very likely bears some sort of historical significance. One resident indicated that it had been an extremely popular stop when the highway passed in front of it; as well, I am sure that it served many rail passengers in days of yore.

It did not take us long to settle in, and after a long day of roadside fare, we quickly sought something more substantial. Steele Smokin’ BBQ fit that bill well. We noted it in on the way in to town, the ladies in the motel lobby confirmed its adequacy to our immediate needs, and we departed posthaste.

Immediately following that fantastic meal, drugged by an excess of well-manicured beef, my companion left me to my own devices to inspect the interior of her eyelids for any damage the sun and road might have done. Not wanting to unnecessarily concern myself with the potential for any unpleasant discoveries, I decided to go out for a little walk around the town.

The streets were mostly abandoned, save a few refugees of similar fate. I amused myself with a few photographs of historical buildings as I walked along, and discovered a hidden treasure just down the street.

Florence Brewing Company

Tucked into the old Florence Citizen Newspaper building, the Florence Brewing Company offered up an oasis to those seeking a little late night fermented fare. A few rowdies littered the established, but it was only temporary. After they stumbled out the door, I was finally able to enjoy the Blonde in my glass and the company of the Brunette serving me.

We chatted comfortably about my adventures of the day, along with the history of the establishment. It proved too much though. Reliving a day across Kansas as well as the lifetime of a place that had been around since the late 1800s, my eyes began to sag badly and my speech, warped. I probably should have followed my partner’s lead.

Bidding farewell, I stumbled back to the motel, where I found my traveling companion at ease, having thoroughly inspected the functional capacity of her vision. We ambled out for another short walk around the block, but window-shopping was all that seemed to peak her interest.

Coffee Machine Art in the window of a Florence shop

We reconnoitered a location for our morning sustenance, and rounding the block towards the previously mentioned establishment, I suggested a brewed treat. She politely declined the idea, instead suggesting we both perform a lengthy and final inspection for ocular damage.

Acquiescing, I wondered if the sun had caused other damage, but kept that part to myself. There was no sense in arguing with a woman that had made up her mind, and the cool low hum of the motel air conditioning unit soon pulled us toward a deep slumber, and dreams of adventure that awaiting us on the road the following day.

. . .

This is the first day out on an 8 day journey into Colorado, across the Continental Divide, into Utah, and back to Missouri through Colorado and Kansas. In the next episode, the road to Gunnison consumes the second day out.