It didn't begin this way. The first few hours into our journey across Kansas made me feel humbled. Small. As if I were a tiny speck of dust floating in the grand scheme of the universe. I could stand on the ground and see for miles.
People in the south talk about the wide open spaces. People in south need to shut up about the wide open spaces because chances are they haven't been to Kansas and therefore have never seen what REAL wide open spaces are. In case there was any confusion:
Wide Open Spaces([wahyd oh-puhn speysez] (noun): Kansas
But oh, how the wide open spaces take their toll! Within hours, time slowed down and the scenery melted into a living collage of fields, decrepit signs that warned me of my upcoming descent into Hell, and the occasional museum dedicated to The Wizard of Oz.
Determined to not let the opportunity go to waste, I would randomly pull over and take pictures of James and myself doing hoodrat things in the road.
Three fourths of the way across, I saw a shining beacon of hope:
"See the world's largest prarie dog?!" I exclaimed loudly enough to cause a one-car accident, "We have to go."
Every other mile brought a new sign foretold us of this magnificently massive dog of the prairie. Unfortunately, as we approached the farm we noticed that it was frighteningly rickety and reminiscent of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. We decided to pass.
That was pretty much Kansas in a nutshell.
I believe the nothingess of Kansas...I unluckily drew this state in my senior american history class. I had to do an entire speech, and presentation of Kansas. All I had was sunflowers. I'm lucky I graduated.
ReplyDeleteI BELIEVE IN A THING CALLED -
DeleteOh, crap. This is something completely different.
Don't worry about the school speech. Sunflowers are kind of awesome and I'm sure you made Kansas as riveting as you could.
Ohhhh you had me ROLFing at 'decrepit signs that warned me of my upcoming descent into Hell'.... ba ha ha ha.
ReplyDeleteMy greatest regret of this entire roadtrip, aside from failing to stop at the Dinosaur Depot, was neglecting to collect photographic evidence of these hell signs.
Deletethe agony. the sheer agony! ha. Driving from LA to SF on the 5 was like that, just fields, car pastures and dirt. My mind started playing tricks on me.
ReplyDeleteyour adventure in Kansas reminded me of this video of one of my favorite band's driving across country to record their album:
http://youtu.be/KmrzUtVmmgc
I am going to have to make that journey on the 5 one day myself. I am going to watch that video to prepare.
DeleteEDIT: That video rocks.
Oh my gosh, YOU ARE SO ACCURATE IN YOUR DESCRIPTION OF KANSAS! My hubby & I are from NC but lived in CO while he was in the Army...we've made the drive through Kansas WAY too many times. It's pretty much exactly what you said- although in our case all the signs denouncing you to hell were preceded by signs for gigantic porn stores.
ReplyDeleteI know, right? Maybe it's just me, but I would feel much safer in a porn shop than with some zealot who paints cryptic messages on rickety signs that give off the distinct impression that they want to sacrifice and eat me.
DeleteUgh I can totally relate! I felt the same way after driving through the freaking desert in Nevada. Holy hell what a shit hole.
ReplyDeleteOMG I hate the open spaces of the country. It's just... UGH. I miss the city.
ReplyDelete