I am awoken early by the owner of the motel who has kindly done laundry for me. She presents me with my cotton tote bag full of warm, folded, fresh, dry, clean clothes. She returns 10 minutes later with a sock. It was part of a pair that was bought for me years ago by my friend Simon. It brands my name on the side, 'Adam, I think this is also yours', she says. I've carefully placed my boots and gloves in front of the a/c overnight and they had dried out fully after my horrendous ride through the first half of Kansas.
I pack up and ride a few hundred meters down the road to Boot Hill, located in Dodge City. Like everywhere else til now, I can happily leave the bike unlocked and all my luggage just strapped to it. Nobody ever touched my bike, not once. I had planned to stop here at Boot Hill before hitting the road. There are some replica and original Western style buildings. It is essentially a village-museum. The town features all sorts, including an operating convenient store with 'ye olde' candy, tapestries, kitchen utensils, baking supplies and old decorative milk pails, a floury shop if that makes any sense. I bought myself some old skool fudge. Behind the facade of this Western town was this museum segmented into a large gun collection, the undertakers (incl. tools, caskets), a replica pharmacy, a replica bank, an original church, the original school house and everything else as it was in the day. There was also a saloon / bar where a great 'potion-seller' drama performance was put on. At high noon there was a really awesome shootout in front of the village with great acting from a well rehearsed cast who doubled as staff for Boot Hill. 
At the start of my day I come across a river that is bright red like tomato soup. It amazes me. It is contrasted by the green trees which line the river and clear blue skies. I take another Brodericks photo, this time outside a typical wooden barn in a field in Kansas. I also take some 80mph selfies, when I check them later they turn out pretty entertaining.
Before I'm anywhere near Tulsa, I rocket through the rest of Kansas and get into Arkansas (the second 's' in Arkansas is pronounced as a 'w' as I learned in a bar in Salida where the Arkansas River runs through). I'm back on the Interstate for the most part and pushing the bike (not literally, I'm pushing the limits of the engine), and the speed limits. I'm as focused as I ever am and steadily passing the rest of the traffic all of whom are also breaking the speed limit but maybe not to the same extent as I am. Generally everyone goes 80mph on the interstate where the speed limit is 70mph. 
I see a low and wide black fender (bumper) on a white car tailing me, it loomed up behind me so quickly and I don't remember overtaking it so it must have come at speed from the last slip road. I notice the tell-tale appendages of a police car attached to the roof as they start to flash red and blue. I immediately but cautiously pull over, turn off my engine and remember from watching Americanized tv not to make an sudden movements. I stay on the bike and remove my gloves and helmet SLOWLY, while the state trooper approaches me. My paperwork is handy to me sitting inside my tank-bag, he naturally wants to see my passport and entrance stamp also. Luckily he only catches me doing 91mph, little did he know.  |
| Seen somewhere near the tomato soup river |
Over his PA loudspeaker system, he invited me into the car while he is doing a background search. I try strike up some conversation complimenting his car and asking him what different buttons did. The 10 minutes of air conditioning in the patrol car was almost worth the fine (not really at all). All my paper work is in order and he's got everything plugged into his onboard computer system, I see my VIN number and my aunts address, but he has only gone and issued the ticket to Asam Gaine.....I only notice this in my hostel the following night and it fuels some great moral and legal debate between the other travelers in the social area; should I, or shouldn't I pay it. It is apparently simple enough to testify that an officer that is incompetent of inputting simple information into a computer could be incompetent of other simple tasks in relation to the observation and documentation of speeding and traffic offences. My temptation is to fight the summons because my name is wrong but you can only fight it in court which was set for August and I ain't ever going back to Arkansas so I put it to the bottom of my bag to be paid another day.
I hit Tulsa late in the evening and breaking my rule, I go to an Irish bar to look for a bed. I have a beer while I wait, then another, then I get chatting to some different people at the different bats and it goes from there. I decide I'm replenished enough to do another 100 miles which will get me closer to Memphis. I fade after 40 miles and pull off the interstate into a town called Muskogee. Here in this nothing town in Oklahoma I pay another $50 to sleep in a starfish shape for the night, worth it. The town seems industrious and I have no business there, I leave early the next day for this reason.Lessons:
Don't speed in Arkansas (apparently they are well known for speeding fines).
Some proverbs I read in Boot Hill:
'Treat the earth well; it was not given to you by your parents, it was loned to you by your children. We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children'
-Ancient Indian Proverb
'I am a great chief among my people.
If you kill me,
It will be like a spark on the prairie.
It will make a big fire - a terrible fire.-
-Chief Satanta
'His beauty captivated us.
His intelligence inspired us.
His athletic ability amazed us
We were then touched by his spirit,
his keen sensitivity,
overwhelming loyalty,
and purity of heart.
The Indian and the horse established a bond of brotherhood
-Linda Little Wolf
'The rivers are our brothers, they quench our thirst,
The rivers carry our canoes, and feed our children.
If we sell you our land, you must remember to teach your children that the rivers are our brothers, and yours, and you must henceforth give the rivers the kindness you would give any brother'
-Chief Seattle
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