Heat, humility and humanity: Lessons learned across miles during Bike Across Kansas
Last month, 600 men, women and teens from 28 states and two foreign countries climbed on their bikes and peddled 512 miles across Kansas. They traveled, west to east, in an event known as Bike Across Kansas.
Their journey started in Syracuse (Kansas, not New York) and finished in Louisburg. The ride started June 10 and ended on June 18. That was the week of temperatures hovering around the 100 degree mark, with 40 mph southerly wind gusts. The Kansas weather gained international news when at least 2,000 cattle dropped dead from the heat.
I was one of those bikers, making the trip — or a good portion of it at 310 miles — with 240 other first-timers. As I type this from my couch, the thermostat is at 65, I am sipping an ice tea and my feet have just completed a world-class pedicure. However, if you think the BAK experience was miserable, you would be wrong. It was actually quite an adventure.
The BAK: A brief history
In the ’70s, biking had become a craze. The movie “Breaking Away,” a coming-of-age movie about bicyclists in Indiana, gave life to the momentum. It starred Dennis Quaid and Daniel Stern and received multiple Academy Award nominations. In 1973, Iowa was one of the first to embrace a cross-state bike ride, in something now known as RAGBRAI: an acronym standing for Register’s Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa. RAGBRAI is the granddaddy of them all.
BAK started two years later, in 1975. The original bikers were Larry and Norma Christie of Wichita. That year, 76 bikers joined.
Colorado joined the party with the Ride the Rockies tour in 1986. Now it has become so popular you need to enter a lottery to ride. Texas has something called The Hotter than Hell ride in Wichita Falls, Texas. They ride 100 miles in August. No lottery needed for that ride. Just a good life insurance policy.
Stefanie Weaver is the executive director of BAK, having served since 2012. She and her husband, John, have been part of the volunteer team — bicycling and volunteering — since 2003.
“We fell in love again with our home state and Biking Across Kansas during our first tour in 1999. Our son, Ashton, started bicycling BAK full time with us when he was 8 years old.”
My own introduction to BAK came when my brother, Tim, and his son, John, made the ride in 2019. I grew up in western Kansas and had an affinity for the state’s geography and the charm of its many small towns. But the last bike I owned had a banana seat and high handlebars. I rode it in a July 4 parade with spoke cards rattling as I popped a wheelie. No one was cooler.
During COVID, our son was home from New York and helped me find a bike on Craigslist. Then COVID canceled the 2020 and 2021 rides. In March, BAK was back but the Keenan contingent had conflicts, so I recruited two high school classmates, Vince Hammeke and Marty Murphy. Vince and Marty have a closet full of jerseys, having ridden both the RTR and RAGHBRI. They were riding the full distance. I was joining in Dodge and leaving in Ottawa thanks to bookend weddings.
Dodge City/Spearville
As a newcomer to the tight shorts club, riding this distance in a heat wave was, to most sensible people, nuts. To my wife Lori, it was insane. I was undeterred. In May, I bought a new bike at Trek Bicycle Shawnee. I trained alone with trips to Shawnee Mission Park and a Leawood bike trail. The plan was to join the route on Sunday in Garden City and ride to Spearville. By the time we hit Highway 50 on Sunday, June 10, the temperature was 101.
I skipped starting at Garden City, and then skipped the next town, Cimarron, as we drove east. “I will start in Dodge City,” I told Lori. At the east end of Dodge, a large hill crests and looks forward to nothingness. I pulled over, grabbed my bike, received a long embrace from Lori, and then started pedaling. As she drove past me, she honked and probably joined a prayer chain.
Seventeen miles later, a nice lady offered me a bottle of cold water. “Welcome to Spearville,” she said.
Let me say here that Spearville was a perfectly delightful place to sleep in a tent in 98 degrees. But I had found Marty and Vince, gotten my backpack with my essentials and exhaled. The Knights of Columbus had food and cold beer and more food and cold beer. The three of us laughed, exchanged stories and planned for the next day.
St. John, 59 miles away.
My guardian angels
On Monday, three miles east of Spearville, riding alone on the highway shoulder, I heard a pop and looked at my rear tire. It was flat. My spare and most of my necessary gear was in my backpack, being transported via truck to St. John. Almost immediately two bikers stopped. In less than 5 minutes my wheel was removed, the tire extracted and they both looked at me and said, “You have a tubeless tire. It should patch itself.” They pumped it up and almost as quickly as they arrived, they were gone.
Had the flat been on my car, I would still be on Highway 50.
That was my introduction to the biking community. They look after each other. They care. They are friendly. They are interesting and interested. I had thought biking was a solitary adventure. It is anything but.
The biking Mennonites
Leroy Hershberger is a Pied Piper of the biking community. A resident of Partridge, Kansas, just southwest of Hutchinson, he is a prominent figure on the BAK. You know him from his blue eyes, white beard and modest build. If you have biked BAK, and been passed by a rider in a dress, bonnet and no shoes, you can credit Leroy and his band of bikers.
“I’ve been riding a bike since I was a kid. In first grade I rode it to school. It was two miles,” he said.
That was 1967. At Yale, he rode his bike even more.
“I had friends in Newton and we took weekend bike trips. I heard about BAK and joined in 2007. I like the push of pedaling and visiting as you head down the road.”
When the pandemic canceled BAK in 2020, it didn’t stop Leroy. He organized a private BAK in 2020. “We rode the route and stayed at Mennonite friends’ houses. We camped and brought trick bikes and unicycles.”
This year 22 fellow Mennonites rode with him.
“Over the years I’ve heard other riders comment that ‘the barefoot girl passed me again.’ That warms my heart. I was pleased with my fellow riders’ progress. This is a coming of age event.”
More than two wheels and chains
Bikers have a special relationship with their bikes. This became more and more evident as the week went on.
One of the bikers I met was Paul Schwarz, from Three Rivers, California. We met in one of the shaded areas where bikers gather at the end of the day. Like many bikers, he used to be a runner — participating in marathons and ultra trail marathons — something longer and more rigorous than just a marathon. He decided to pick up biking, which spared him stress on his joints. He has never looked back.
“The relationship between a cyclist and their bike is like the relationship between spouses/significant others. The pair is close and intimate for hours at time. There can be happiness and joy but also pain and disappointment.
“Your bike shows you your weaknesses and follies but can help you reach new goals and dreams while providing adventure and lifelong memories. Many riders give their bike a name. My wife has a green Salsa WarRoad so after a few rides she named it Salsa Verde. My Specialized Roubaix has hyper yellow/green accents and I have allergies, so my warped mind calls her Snot Rocket.”
For Paul, BAK turned into a road trip to see his sister, Cathy, in Lenexa. “The ride, the cyclists and BAK organizers were all phenomenal and this week produced lifelong memories.”
The road ahead
With BAK, I threw my hat over the wall. It would be only a modest exaggeration to say those six days pedaling alone on the beautiful highways of Kansas were a transformative experience: riding with the wind at my back, the next town’s grain elevator peaking up above the horizon, and the sureness that I accomplished, and possibly exceeded, my goal.
And the wonderful fellow Kansans I came to meet in so many small towns along the way: Macksville, Sylvia, Abbyville, Hesston, Cottonwood Falls, Strong City, Elmdale, Marion, Goessel, Kinsley and Sylvia were just a few of the communities that greeted us with smiles, waves, water, Kool-Aid and more. All were proud of their towns, our state, our country.
A bicycle offers you freedom and the knowledge that with nothing more than your own determination, you can go anywhere. One of the days I was riding, bikers were going east to west outside of Hutchinson. They were riding across the continental U.S.
My introduction to this world was possible due to the hard work of so many others, including the BAK organizers like Stefanie and those who labored then and now to make it a success.
At age 63 with an empty house and a supportive spouse, I am always looking for new adventures. With BAK, I have certainly found one.
Next year, look for me and my yet unnamed Trek bike along the blacktop. Say hello as you ride past me.
You can reach Matt at mattkeenan51@gmail.com
