My Name Is Haines

Well before the butt crack of dawn, 4 am to be exact, I was already awake and making last minute preparations and double checking bikes and gear before heading down to Cycle Works to rendezvous with any folks that might show up there looking to carpool. Whoever was there would then continuing on to Hanover Kansas for what I hoped to be the first annual Washington/Jefferson Ride. As it turned out the only person other than myself on that dark Saturday morning was Sarah, so we loaded up and started the trek to Hanover to meet up with the rest of the folks. What is with that title you might be asking yourself, well it's a little glimpse of history; if you're so inclined Google it... I provide the unlocked door but it's up to you to turn the knob and enter that door if you so choose.


Hanover is a sleepy little farm town of roughly 665 people named by it's original German descendants after Hanover Germany. It is also only two miles west of the Hollenberg Pony Express Station, if history is your thing, the Hollenberg Station is the best preserved, most intact station of the remaining stations along the 2,000 mile Pony Express route. That, in and of itself, would be reason enough to take a trip to Hanover but that is not why we were there. We met up with several of the Black Squirrel Cycling League folks out of the Marysville area, great group of folks to ride with and they have a hand in putting on some rad rides themselves. Rides like the Pony Express 120 Gravel Dash, The Haddam Hounds and a few others I cannot recall currently.



While we were not there for history, we did get the full Hanover experience and were promptly greeted after arriving by the Hanover welcome committee. I'm not sure if they were farm cats or feral cats but they were pretty friendly, the gray one being the actual greeter and the black and white one preferring to observe from a safe distance. Once they made their rounds they made a B line for the sidewalk in front of Rick's Cafe a little bit before the doors opened. I am guessing this is a spot where you're likely to find these two particular townsfolk every morning, waiting for the occasional table scrap tossed to them by a patron of the Cafe.


The ride was originally slated for early March and then rescheduled for the end of March and then rescheduled again for April 13th due to Mother Nature not cooperating with our plans. The re-reschedule actually worked out pretty well since the ride was now on Thomas Jefferson's birthday. The ride of course, if you hadn't guessed, was named because we would be riding in Washington Co. in Kansas and Jefferson Co. in Nebraska. Even more fitting, Jefferson is responsible for the Louisiana Purchase which made the land that is now Kansas and Nebraska part of the United States in 1803. Any who, roughly at 8 am we set out for a 60 mile jaunt through Kansas and Nebraska dirt and gravel.


The gravel leaving Hanover, seen here in the background, was dry, firm and fast; which was a big question for the day since the last time anyone drove the course a little over a week ago there was plenty of moisture still in the roads.






Early on the Kansas dirt and scenery did not disappoint at all, while probably similar to the southern landscape of Nebraska, the make up of grasses, dirt and rocks were much different than what we ride on around Lincoln and the change was much appreciated.






Then we got into the really cool roads, lots of rock, sand and ruts from washouts to keep you on your toes; these are the best kinds of roads in my opinion and Kansas was chocked full of them.




With the softer, more technical roads we got a bit stretched out so a ditch beer stop next to the educated pig farm was in order.




Right around 27th Rd and Rainbow Rd there was a longhorn ranch and we picked up a dog friend, as it went tearing down the road you are never quite sure if it's a friendly dog that just wants to run or one with ill intentions. As it turned out, this one just wanted to run, and run it did but more on that later.








More awesome Kansas and Nebraska dirt roads.


Our fur friend was still with us and was a bit hot and thirsty so we decided to stop and regroup next to this puddle, at one point she laid down in the puddle to cool off. We were hoping that she would have lost interest and gone back home by now but she just kept on running along side. She was fast too, quicker than I was riding as a matter of fact, probably hitting 21 mph at times.





A few more miles and we ran into the first real mud of the day but it was easy enough to get through by dismounting and walking in the dry-ish spots.


We found a nice shady spot just past the bog and decided to sit for a bit and let the dog rest and maybe make up it's mind that it was time to go home.






She, however, had other ideas and promptly found the biggest stick she could find and wanted to play fetch, if you weren't quick enough to throw the stick she would whine a bit, pick up the stick and sort of throw it in your direction until you threw it for her. This went on for a good 20 minutes or so, we would just keep throwing it and she would just keep bringing it back for more.



When it became obvious that she was not going to head home or rest, we decided to push on with the ride.





The roads further down started to get a bit more muddy until we came across a bog that covered the entire span of the road. Most of us looked for a way around on the edges, but Joe isn't most of us and decided to give it a go. It did not end well but our new fur friend did offer some moral support to help him back onto two feet.



Watching Joe go swimming and Sarah and I waddling around on the edge of the mud, most of the group decided to cut the corner altogether and went well into the field to get around the bog. Cheaters!


On the bright side, I am betting that his leg is super soft after that mud mask.



A little ways up the road we came across some controlled burns, seems like Kansas does this every year much to the detriment on anyone who wants to breath in Nebraska. It was no better for the breathing close up either.



When it became clear that our fur friend was not going to go home on her own, we stopped at this windmill a little ways out of Endicott and Mel called his wife so that she could meet us in Endicott to take the dog back where it belonged. It was 5 more miles to Endicott but 10 miles back to the ranch where we picked her up so it seemed like going the 5 miles was better than back tracking 10 just to then have to ride that same 10 miles again. Joe was kind enough to give up some of his water to the puppers, she must have been thirsty because not many dogs enjoy water on the face but she lapped it up with zest.





Once in Endicott we met up with Mel's wife and daughter, loaded the dog into the back and said our goodbyes. I'm sure she took a long nap when she got home, all in all she made it a good 15 miles before being returned to her home a little more tired than before but none the worse for wear. Her owners were  a little surprised when they were told the story of how she followed a group of cyclists all the way to Endicott. Maybe they need to invest in some bicycles and take our fur friend on weekly gravel rides, she definitely has the legs for it and seemed to really enjoy getting out. After the dog was on it's way home we headed over to the town watering hole for restrooms and craft Pepsi.








The stop in Endicott was just a brief one as we had 10 more miles to go until our scheduled stop in Steel City Nebraska and a date with the world famous Salty Dog Saloon. Steel City only has a permanent population of about 60 people, which would make one wonder how such a small town could have such a modern looking saloon. Well, as it turns out, Steel City is a major epicenter of the U.S. energy industry and attracts pipe fitters and steel workers from all over the country to help keep the oil flowing in the original Keystone Pipeline that was completed in 2010, the pipeline sees 600,000 barrels of Canadian oil flow through town each day. Small town but big business.



As we were eating a guy showed up in this modern classic, 53 Chevy with hydraulic suspension and just the right amount of patina in the paint without being overly rusty. Now I'd take this over a Lexus or BWM any day of the week.




In the town park next to the saloon, Mel's wife and daughter had setup an oasis complete with coffee, water and pies made by Mel's daughter. Since we were all pretty stuffed from lunch, it was decided that we would do the pie back at the finish in 20 miles rather than here in the park. So we helped everyone load up and off they went to meet us back in Hanover.




We took off from Steel City and headed on a mostly Southern direction back toward Hanover, which was good because now we would have the wind at our backs rather than in our faces as we had on the way out.



There were a bunch more great roads on the return trip but because we were all smelling the finish and we didn't have to fight the winds we were hammering pretty hard on the way back. Not a good scenario for photographs.




Back in Hanover we all met up at the Turn 4 Bar and Grill for some of that delicious pie, you had your choice of caramel apple, blueberry, peach or strawberry... or more than one kind if that was how you rolled. All of them were delicious and hit the spot for post ride treats.



If you ever find yourself at the Turn 4 in Hanover, bring some extra dollars and see if you can stick one to the ceiling with a quarter and a thumb tack but above all else, don't mess with the toilet cams; folks around here don't take to kindly to that sort of hooliganism.

Thanks to everyone who made it out for the ride, there is talk about trying to make this an annual event but maybe a bit later in the year to hopefully make sure the roads are good to go when we are.