CHAPTER 14: EXPECTATIONS Dodge City to McPherson; Days 164-175 (1 rest); Distance = 155 Miles; People Met = 83 Before

Dodge our experience with Kansas wind was limited to two events, and we were not hiking during either. Other than that, our walk along the ArKANsas River involved near cloudless days and almost no wind. That changed after Dodge, where we encountered 40 mph winds on several occasions. Most of the roads in Kansas are laid out in perfect squares, facilitated by the gentle terrain and dominance of farmland. Since we angled from the southwest corner of the state towards Kansas City, we mainly hiked due east with frequent turns towards due north. The winds mostly came from the west, though the strongest winds often came from the south, and we were hiking with the wind. This was not as easy as it might sound, particularly when we hiked north with strong winds from the south. We virtually skipped along, striving to maintain balance as we did so. We made very good time but felt like we were getting a work out. The cross winds added a different dynamic. For the strongest winds we needed to lean into them as we hiked. Occasionally a coal hauler or 18-wheeler would come by and momentarily break the wind, causing us to almost tip over. We also encountered occasional tree breaks, apparently planted along the edges of properties for that very reason. They became our rest stops. The high winds blew tumbleweeds across the road with regularity. I tried to catch one on camera with great difficulty. I could not react to when a tumbleweed first touched the road because it blew by to the other side before I could even release the shutter. I had to spot tumbleweeds off in the distance and estimate when they would reach the road. I managed to get a couple OK pictures of tumbling tumbleweeds, but no great ones. As we approached Spearville, Kansas we encountered a wind farm. Not many people would accuse a wind turbine of spoiling the Kansas landscape, but they do not bother me in most landscapes. I believe in the Golden Rule. In regards to energy I would rather live next to a wind turbine than an oil

refinery, coal mine or any of the other extraction fuels. The same could be said for nuclear energy as well. Knowing what is tolerable for me, I only wish to impose that on others for my energy needs, rather than impose that which I would find intolerable as my neighbor. That's not to say there are no problems with wind farms; more on that later. Every day flocks of geese went by overhead. I was surprised to find they were not all heading south. In fact one day we watched two flocks approach each other from opposite directions. They met almost right above us and started to fly around in a circle, as if they had arrived at a traffic roundabout in the sky. After three cycles both flocks flew south. We watched as they became specks on the horizon, but before disappearing they all turned around and flew north, passing by above us once again. My impression of geese having a built in GPS system became severely eroded. What would draw any flock north in November? The answer for that part of the country was the Cheyenne Bottoms Wildlife Area, the largest inland marsh on the North American continent. This made Cheyenne Bottoms an important transcontinental migratory area and we were there during peak season. I conveniently made a slight navigational error that brought us right up to the southern shores of the marsh where we were treated to an absolute spectacle. Both the literature and our eyesight confirmed the number of birds to be over six-hundred thousand at this peak time of year. In addition to snow and Canadian geese there were pelicans, cranes, herons, ducks and others. A couple of times our approach spooked a flock and they would rise up in a great cloud, like what you would see on Planet Earth, or a National Geographic special. Just the flapping of their wings created a wave of sound flooding over us, along with the loud honks of thousands of geese crashing down on our ears.

As we hiked along this stretch I started thinking about the ingredients for vibrant community engagement. I struggled at my presentations just to convey what community involvement really involves. I continued to struggle with this as we walked across the country. In hindsight I can now say

that a real community initiative, in addition to whatever other goals might be behind the initiative, builds fellowship. Instead of a soup kitchen that feeds the hungry, a community meals program both feeds everyone while building fellowship. While I did not come up with this simple phrasing of the ingredient while walking, I knew that the famous quote from Leadville, confuse who is giving and who is receiving, was now the cornerstone for my talks and all other ingredients built upon this foundation. The next ingredient came to me while in Larned. We took a rest day because of a storm that brought in a wintry mix. That gave me time to do a couple interviews with people involved in food programs. The first was with Jason, director of Helping Hands ministry in Larned. Helping Hands involves a variety of ministries, including a food pantry. Jason mentioned that there are expectations for the people who benefit from the food pantry to give back when they are able. Does this always happen? No, but contributions from former clients were a significant part in keeping the food pantry up and running. A similar story was shared by Donna, director of Prairie Land Foods. This organization is part Angel Foods, part Habitat for Humanity. The provide food kits at discounted prices. In return people are expected to provide hours of community service. As an aside, Donna had an inspiring tale to tell relating to our health care problems. She like so many others could not afford health insurance. However, she won a free mammogram at a county fair. That discovered Donna's cancer in a timely manner and she is now a cancer survivor dedicated to helping others. These two stories about expectations prepared me for a chat with reporter Karen at the next town stop in Great Bend. In response to my enthusiasm to community initiatives, she informed us that her husband was involved with Great Bend's community garden, but too many people came to get produce from the garden without giving back. I asked her if there was an expectation for that to actually happen. She responded as if a light bulb went on: Oh, you mean like requiring people to put in two hours of work? Precisely. Expectations became the second ingredient I formulated for

community involvement. Karen kept in touch with us through comments on my Hiking Humanitarian web site. She requested I put in a good word about Cheyenne Bottoms, which I gladly did. She also mentioned that originally she considered that she drew the short straw in being assigned to cover our story. Apparently, people traveling through Kansas for a cause are becoming too common. Within a year of us passing through we met people who in turn encountered other walkers, bicyclists, horse packers, a man toting a wagon behind him and a man bearing a cross. Yet why be jaded by anyone putting in a lot of sweat equity for a cause? We got some insight into that question at our Dodge City town stop, where I gave a presentation to the Lions Club there. They came up to me afterwards to express gratitude I did not ask for money. Apparently they have hosted travelers to have. This hearkens back a bit further to Dick Bratton, the PR person for the American Discovery Trail who was yet very cautious about promoting our cause. ADT hikers in the past had been known to use a cause as a method of funding their hike. We were funded mostly by a retirement account I cashed in, yet we did rely on some additional income in order to fuel the support vehicle and camper. Sales of books and donations made up this income, but we were reserved in our pursuit of this. I did not want the main goal of raising awareness for community to be compromised by either raising funds for good causes or for ourselves.

My interview with the director of Helping Hands bore an additional insight, at least for Jason. He was an Assembly of God pastor with an outlook similar to the pastor we met near Deckers. That pastor claimed that our failure to belong to God was responsible for our failure to belong to each other. Jason had been going through a little crisis of faith casting doubt on whether belonging to God could even do the trick. Jason was prompted in this view by the failure of any church in town to take the lead in hosting the community Thanksgiving dinner that year. As Director of Helping Hands he assumed ultimate

responsibility for the Thanksgiving dinner. Jason was feeling disillusioned over that not happening when, right before I was to interview him, a citizen of Larned had first crack at him. She was not a member of any church, yet was alarmed when she read in the local paper that the Thanksgiving dinner was being canceled that year. Her purpose for speaking with Jason was to find out and remedy what was needed to make that community dinner happen. Thus right before I came in to interview Jason in his office he knew that the community Thanksgiving dinner in Larned would be happening after all, and that this resulted from someone who did not even belong to God, after those who did dropped the ball. That was followed by my spiel about early nomads and that under natural conditions we have empathy which compels us to be kind. He thought the combination that day of the Good Samaritan and the lay preacher was intended for him by God. Perhaps that was the case, but I would say that Jason needed to look no further than himself for proof of our kindness. Within minutes of meeting him I identified Jason as a very compassionate man. He originally worked with Wendy's management, through a lineage that connected his family with Wendy's founder Dave Thomas. Corporations are capable of organized charity, but not the spontaneous kind that responds to immediate needs in the community. Stockholders and board meetings are but two steps in the corporate bureaucracy that must be involved. Jason found renegade means of using his position at Wendy's to help people in the community. He finally arrived at the point where he knew he must follow a different calling, which led him to become an Assembly of God pastor and Director of a compassionate ministry such as Helping Hands. In other words, Jason was living proof that a compassionate call to first belong to others can lead one to belong to God.

Perhaps because of the windy conditions during this stretch prompting interest in us, we encountered many kind people. Sheriff Bobby stopped to talk with us because he had a friend that also

walked across the country for a cause. The good Sheriff was much younger than us and he displayed this humble respect for his elders, despite his position of authority. He also gave us a great tip about tornadoes. Most of them track northeast, which means the best path of avoidance is at a right angle, heading southeast. Northwest does not work as well because tornadoes occasionally veer off more towards that direction. We were grateful for the advice, though hoped we would not have to put it into practice. Even over such open terrain as Kansas we suspected that outrunning a tornado might be a problem. Michael the EMT from Garfield pulled over while we were taking a break to make sure we were OK. He first spotted us in his town of Garfield but even without that prompting his training as an EMT conditioned him to see if people needed help. Shortly after that a muddy car pulled over as we were hiking. James and Ashley from Pagosa Springs were visiting folks in Kinsley. They had passed us multiple times going back and forth and on the last pass James decided he just had to find out what we were doing. The two seemed to fit well together, but sort of like how a bubbly cascade (James) flows together with a deep, still pool (Ashley). They said that as Buddhists and vegans they were 100% behind our mission and wished they could donate money. We told them their enthusiasm was good enough for us. Our most talkative encounter was R. D. Johnson as we neared McPherson. He pulled his large tractor over along the stretch of road we were on and proceeded to tell us his life story. R. D. was a third generation Swede now in his eighties. He came out of retirement to work on road construction for the third time in his life, which is why he was driving along the side of the road with a bush hog on his tractor. We also found out:about his affliction that removed all his hair by the time he was 26; his daughter the adventurer who works for HP; his other daughter with an inventive husband designing a means to extract every bit of crab meat from the shell; and his trips to San Francisco, Alaska and Sweden.

We encountered a pocket of kindness in Lyons, where I gave a presentation to the Lyons Lions Club. This was another presentation I was anticipating for months. Anita Wedel, my initial contact with the club, kept in touch with me throughout the journey, mainly through my Hiking Humanitarian fan page on Facebook. They hosted a potluck at the Country Place Living Center, managed by Joan Renollet, wife of Lions President Bob. This was the presentation where I first delivered my message that, despite what is being portrayed by some media outlets and think tanks, American households are working longer hours. I got into a long, enjoyable chat at the dinner table with Bob and Charlie Wedel. They both were from the area and shared a little historical perspective about the nearby salt mining industry. I also interviewed Mike Hudson. He was the youngest member of the Lyons Lions Club when he joined, only to witness the Club shrink down over time to just himself. He started asking friends to get involved and the Club grew back up to around the twelve that was there at our presentation. Unfortunately, I have since learned from Anita that the Club has shrunk back down again, another victim of the overall movement away from community involvement.

Our town hopping through central Kansas became akin to church hopping, with each church connection featuring some type of kindness. As we were grocery shopping in Dodge City, Ky spotted someone with a Division of Wildlife patch on. She introduced herself to Lowell who connected us with the Presbyterian Church in Spearville, our first town stop out of Dodge. At the church we met Britta and her two small boys Kordel and Brier; Britta and her husband served as sextons for the church. She invited us over for breakfast the following morning, though we chose not to impose on her young family. The next town after Spearville was Kinsley, the halfway point of the country via highway. The UMC pastor in Dodge City, Pastor Lance, connected us to Pastor Dennis at the UMC church in Kinsley. Two highlights in Kinsley were feeling the earthquake that occurred in Oklahoma and being

able to sing with a choir for the first time since I left home. After Kinsley we stayed at the UMC in Garfield, where they invited us to their potluck supper. I talked for awhile with Bob and Cindy, married 35 years ago in that same church, but unsure of the future for both the church and the town. Farms in the area were hit hard by the economy and poor growing seasons. After Garfield came Larned, where we stayed at another UMC. Since we waited out a storm in Larned we bumped into their custodian Frank frequently. Frank was a Native American vet with a seemingly permanent smile. He brought us home one evening to meet his wife Linda and for us to do our laundry. Frank and Linda were part of the growing demographic of people responsible for taking care of their grandkids. After Larned we stayed at the First UMC in Great Bend our first night in that town. As we came into Great Bend, well before Thanksgiving, we noticed that the city already was decked out for Christmas. That evening I got to rehearse Christmas music with their choir. Because of Kinsley and Great Bend I now had a ready answer to the occasional question: What do you miss most while hiking? Answer: Singing in the choir. While we were there Brad the organist put a bill into Cindy's hands. The bill's denomination was rather large. Our first night beyond Great Bend we stayed in the motor home belonging to Karen and Tony Schmitt, a connection made for us by the UMC in Ellington. Tony was concerned about us hiking as pheasant season was approaching and gave us orange vests to wear. Karen shared her pride for the Haitian mission trip where one her daughters participated. The evening of our presentation for the Lyons Lions Club we stayed with Judith and Will Best, the former a retired school teacher and the latter a retired pastor, though both now worked at Sterling College. We made this connection through Pastor Mike of the Garden City UCC, who also helped us connect with the McPherson UCC, our last stop of this whirlwind church tour between Dodge City and McPherson.

At the McPherson UCC we met Annette and her dog Wink. Wink was a poodle with a missing eye that Annette adopted from a shelter. She reflected that Wink's handicap did not hinder him from loving and being loved by humans, and out of this observation was born the Wink Ministry. Annette brought Wink to places where humans were dealing with their own handicaps. She related one incident of a beautiful moment between Wink and a young girl holding him with half her arm missing. I delivered the sermon on Sunday morning for the McPherson UCC. Pastor Connie graciously took us out to lunch afterwards. In addition, she provided a connection that would be a big help through the eastern part of Kansas.

There was one other UCC connection made on this stretch. We spent a second night in Great Bend where were put up in a hotel by Pastor Stan Crawford, who also took us out to eat with his wife Janet, daughter Betsy and son-in-law Mike at a Mexican Restaurant. Pastor Stan had warn a variety of hats over the course of his life, including a Sheriff's hat. Betsy had a Masters in History and worked a farm with husband Mike. She drew on both backgrounds to fill us in a bit on the history of farming in Kansas. For an enhanced perspective on the history of farming in Kansas one should turn back the page to when European farming first began on this continent. Near the Jamestown settlement Native Americans had temporary possession of land that they worked for their own crops. They rotated where they worked to get the best production out of the soil, while land once worked would then lie fallow for recreation and hunting by the tribe as a whole. For the European farmer small local governments provided the protections needed for individuals to own land. Owning a particular piece of land meant farming a particular piece of land repeatedly. Early on the Native Americans yielded much better harvest because of their better treatment of the soil. Later on agricultural innovations, generally paid for by government through land grant colleges, would enable the private property approach to work as well or better than Native

American farming. Back east large farms amounted to hundreds of acres; in Kansas a large farm is thousands of acres. National government (not local) offered these large acreages to entice settlers, offsetting concerns for the poorer growing season. Over the years a need has continued for government to provide assistance for these large acreage farms. We heard a few jokes about government checks, sometimes by farmers themselves. Even so, the common fate for many family farms is to be purchased by agribusinesses better suited for such large scale farming. Of course, the way government subsidies work tends to benefit the larger agribusiness even more than the smaller family farm. This relates to the wind farm issue we confronted in Spearville. Back East many small farms supplement their income with a wind turbine, which helps them avoid the lure of developers. When they sell their farms chances are they will be bought by others wanting to continue farming. In Kansas large crop farms give way to large wind farms or agribusinesses, providing a cash cow with which the former owner can head off to greener pastures, due to the large tracts of land originally granted in the first place by national government and later subsidized. On a somewhat lighter note, at least for Cindy, Pastor Stan shared with us how he knew we were getting close to Great Bend. People were telling him they witnessed a young blonde and an old man hiking into town. Podcast: Kansas Wind Podcast: Helping Hands Ministry Podcast: Tell Them Fellers in Washington Podcast: Cheyenne Bottoms Wildlife Area Podcast: Wink Ministry