A Kindler, Gentler Haddam Hounds

Saturday was the annual Haddam Hounds Hundy out of Haddam, Kansas. If you've never heard of Haddam, Kansas you're probably in the majority. With a population of around 100 souls and way off the beaten path, most people will never cross paths with this little map dot located literally on the edge of nowhere Kansas off of Hwy 36 just 10 miles north of the Nebraska border. Platted in 1868, it's name borrowed from Haddam, Connecticut, it's never really been a hotbed of activity for the world traveler but there did exist a "rival" town of West Haddam if you can believe that. Both towns decided to merge in 1874 to form the megatropolis of modern day Haddam, such as it is. Haddam is home to the Brown Honey Farm which is Kansas's larges honey producer and they used to be home to Rev Honey before it moved to Missouri and then recently shuttered it's doors. Probably also not widely known Rev Honey was a pretty good soda type beverage sweetened with honey and they were starting to branch out to energy drinks and honey "gel" packets for energy during cycling and running events. Both products pretty decent also in their own right.



While it does have it's moments in history, Haddam today is probably best known, in the cycling community anyway, as the home of the Haddam Hounds Hundy. This year marked it's 7th occurrence, I have attended 3 of them myself and they all have been an adventure encompassing some gravel roads, some beautiful dirt roads and a smattering of "roads" that are barely, if at all, discernable from a farm field.




This years route was rumored to be a bit milder than the offerings of the past so we decided to give it a go on the Stormchasers and hoped we wouldn't regret that decision. After getting to the event and talking to Todd about the route, he did in fact confirm rumors were true and stated he did so because there were a lot of new people to the event that he didn't want to scare off. Not sure how to take that tidbit... so, it's okay to try to kill your friends but it would be a fopa to try to kill a group of total strangers? With friends like that, who needs enemies.



While there was not a single wagon rutted Oregon Trail type road on the course this year, it was not short on hills or rocky MMRs.


Kansas farmers seem to have a soft spot for the wind turbine, I can't remember how many of these sights we rode past on Saturday. Seemed like every couple of miles there was a new one sprouting up out of the ground. Not a huge fan of what they do to the gravel roads in order to get the big trucks down them myself, for a "green" energy source they certainly don't adhere to the adage of leave no trace when propping them up.





Our first SAG stop on route was at about mile 18 in the quaint little berg of Cuba, Kansas. Complete with what appeared to be a still operational blacksmith shop! Cuba, Kansas is named after the country of Cuba and there just happens to be a Geneva, Nebraska not too awfully far from Cuba, Kansas... an industrious gravel organizer could come up with a route to include both locations in a sort of a a Cold War Gravel Grinder if they were so inclined. It would have to be a big'un though since the most direct route between the two is already 60+ miles so to make a loop of it you would need to add a bit more than that.




Cows on course is always an interesting time and we had at least four smaller cows wandering about between Cuba and Agenda, Kansas.


Fun fact, more people are killed by cows each year than sharks! They look innocent but they are always watching and plotting your demise, just looking for the perfect time to unleash udder destruction on you.


Had an opportunity to draft off a swather also once I was able to catch it, they look slow but don't let that boxy shape fool you. One could argue that drafting off of a swather might be grounds for disqualification for outside help, I argue that the swather was available for everyone on course and thus fair game. Since Haddam isn't a race perse the point is a bit moot in this instance but the argument does have some merit.


Goat thinks it's a horse.




Our last urban SAG was in the tiny village of Agenda, Kansas with a population in the 40s now but once boasted numbers above 200 in it's heyday when the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railroad still passed through. Not much is left now but it does boast an ice cream shop, a curio type shop and even a hidden garden. More on the garden is shown in the video link at the bottom, it's pretty impressive to be honest.




There wasn't much between Agenda and Haddam other than dilapidated houses and wild flowers to we made pretty quick work of the last 20ish miles before stopping into the Haddam Cafe for some burgers before heading home.

Check our the video on YouTube for the rest of the story as Steve Harvey used to proclaim.

 

Flat Donuts and Dead Legs

For the majority of the year Wilber, Nebraska lives in relative anonymity, another rural Nebraska farm town scratching out an existence as best it can. In early August for three days, however, Wilber thrives with it's annual Czech Days festival. Unlike many rural farm towns in Nebraska, Wilber has continued to grow each census. Platted in 1873 it's population in 1880 was 710 souls and it's continued to grow and at last census in 2020 the population was 1,937 souls. Fun fact... Dana Altman, head coach of the Oregon Ducks men's basketball team hails from Wilber and began his basketball career as a play at the now defunct Fairbury Junior College that was in Fairbury, Nebraska. Wilber has put on 62 Czech days and we have been organizing some sort of ride since roughly 2017, although I attended my first Czech Days in 2014. The starting location has changed from year to year but we have always approached from the east prior to this year when we shifted the start to Plymouth, Nebraska which is almost directly south of Wilber. 




The weather was fantastic for the ride with temps starting just below the 70° mark. The group was pretty big as we set sail on Saturday, matching our previous high number or riders in 2018 and I am sure the cooler temps helped in that aspect. There have been some scorchers in past years and even a rainy year or two so having the nice weather was a welcomed sight.





The course this year ended up being relatively flat also which helped us make quick work of the 20-ish miles from Plymouth to Wilber.


We ran into some friends who had ridden out from Lincoln and as is tradition we all touched the Wilber wiener that resides in front of Frank's Smokehouse.





After the wiener we headed over to the Sokol Pavilion for brauts, kraut and kolaches. Sokol Pavilion was built in 1930 and listed in the National Register of Historic Places in 1995. The Pavillion was originally the home for Sokol gymnastics, a Czech gymnastics organization that dates back to 1862 when it was founded in Prague. We didn't do any tumbling on Saturday but we did wrestle some beers down.


As is also tradition, we stopped at the Wilber sign proclaiming it to be the Czech Capital of the United States. They aren't just blowing smoke either, the very first Czech Days in 1962 brought in 20,000 people and 60,000 people in 1965. Numbers are one thing but in 1963 then Governor Frank Morrison officially proclaimed Wilber to be the Czech Capital of Nebraska. If that weren't enough to cement the claim, in 1987 then President Ronald Reagan degreed Wilber the Czech Capital of the United States. So when Wilber makes the claim they have the pedigree to back it up.


Official ditch beer sight, caught 'Grammin. 






Cooler temps in the morning gave way to high temps and more sun in the afternoon prompting a stop at the Red Zone in De Witt, Nebraska on the ride back. The Red Zone is your typical quaint small town Nebraska bar that time seemingly has forgotten but this one also doubles as a semi-shrine to the late, great Elvis Presley with several shelves of knick-knacks and bric-a-brac. No blue suede shoes were found in the establishment.


Back in Plymouth a stop at the more modern looking Bart's Bar was in order for cold refreshments, we miss timed our arrival and hit the sad hours between lunch and dinner when the grill gets a bit of a rest so a liquid lunch is all we could muster up. Good ride, great group and as always a fun time at the Wilber, Nebraska Czech Days.


Didn't get enough of Czech Days, check out the companion video.

 

The Older You Get, The Older You Are

As adults some of us refuse to celebrate the anniversary of our birth, I guess somehow thinking that if you don't celebrate it then it never happened... well there will come a day when you'll run out of birthdays so you might as well celebrate the ones you still have left. Jackie's birthday was officially on the 29th of last month but we were so busy that we didn't get to celebrate a ride with friends until this month but ride we did when we got the chance.



The weather almost didn't want to cooperate with us, temps were really low for July and the roads would prove to be a little soft but sometimes when life gives you lemons you make a lemon birthday cake.





There were several reroutes on the ride as we encountered roads that just weren't ridable but sometimes just going with the flow rewards you with fluffy balls of purr and it did on this ride. We happened to be standing around enjoying a ditch beer when these three adorable kittens came clamoring out of where ever they were hiding and were rewarded with as much affection as they could endure.






The first stop on the birthday tour was the Side Trek bar in Harbine where beers, jello shots and a butterscotch "sperm shot" were consumed before moving on.





Steele City and the Salty Dog was the place for lunch, got a few odd looks and chased off a few of the locals when we arrived but I think that is always the case when a bunch of sweaty, spandex clad cyclist show up en mass. We have been to the Dog several times on several different rides so it shouldn't be too much of a shock but it still seems to raise some eyebrows and cause some necks to crane when we walk in.




Bridge beers followed lunch on the bridge heading into or out of Steele City, also a bridge we've been across multiple times but given it's precarious deck of planks I'd never noticed the limestone walls of the river banks before. I guess I was preoccupied with not dropping a wheel into the crevice between boards and launching myself face first into splinterville, sometimes you really do need to stop and smell the roses I guess.




I have a propensity to moo at cows when I see them, most times they tend to moo back and we have a little cow-versation that neither or us quite understands but we do it anyway. This is the first time I've ever had a group jog on over and join in our group. The ladies of the pasture weren't even all that close, I'd say when I first bellowed my first moooooooo they were a few hundred yards away on the other side of a grove of trees. They ran around the grove and straight over to us to see what all the commotion was about and stayed there until we departed some 5-10 minutes later. I really need to get my hands on a cow to human dictionary, I might be making offers and promises I can't hope to fulfill and that would just be rude on my part.


After leaving the ladies in the pasture we high tailed it home and grilled up some food, braut burgers not the hamburger variety as to not offend our new found friends. Cake was eaten, beers were consumed and conversations were had and this time we all understood what the other was saying.