The Grass Menagerie

Day 44

Larned, KS to Nickerson, KS

Distance: 61 miles

Wind: ESE 10-15 mph

Direction of Travel: ESE

Road surface: LL Cool J until mid-morning, passing through a lengthy band of John Wayne (True Grit) and then John Travolta (more unwanted Bump and Grind than Saturday Night Fever) with a return to LL Cool J by sundown.

Another day of Eastern Philosophy practice began in the Kansas mist this morning as I plodded my way out of a foggy Larned and into a head wind.

With no services at all on the route today, I had been resourceful with my extra drink containers and had also treated myself to a take-away bagel from the breakfast at my motel to serve as a makeshift lunch on the hoof, so to speak.

With the first landmark being a small town around 15 miles in just off the route called Radium, and then a cross roads around 10 miles further on, it was taking the lead in terms of the dullest ride in history. With the battle against a long stretch of “loose gravel” road, which didn’t stop cars coming in the other direction still going at 65 mph (spraying grit out at the same speed), it wasn’t until around lunchtime that the clouds started to lift, and the gravel to subside (onto a lumpy bumpy replacement), and I suddenly found myself in... a nature reserve... in Kansas?

Prancing deer Whitney Dobbs out for her morning constitutional

With white-tailed deer and birds galore, I was in my element. It was as I had stopped to try to take some photos of the birds that I looked to one side and saw this in the ditch…

Snapping Turtle, Sid Turvey, 84, still basking in the glory of
his first romantic encounter with a section of
radial tyre on his way home from the pub this labor day

Apparently, a snapping turtle, known (according to Wikipedia) for its belligerent disposition when out of water, and for its delayed sexual maturity and its extended adult longevity. You don’t want to get into an argument with him after he has had a few drinks.

And I couldn’t help but think, as all the birds kept flying off, that maybe Steed and I would have been better to have fashioned our own mobile bird-watching hide by covering ourselves in a touring cyclist sized cardboard box with eye holes. 

I managed a snap of one of the black and white birds...

Bird on a Wire

... but it was a photo of one of the stunning yellow/orange breasted one that I wanted and that remained so elusive.

It was as I was taking aim with the camera that one of them whistled at me…

“Yo, you down there… yes, you girly girl,” he crowed. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Err, I was just trying to take a photo of you.”

“S’wat I thought. You uploading to the Cloud, honey?”

“Err, yeah, I guess.”

“Yo, well, no can do. YC Hammer would usually overlook this invasion of my privacy rights, but this cloud stuff, oooooooo it’s nasteeee,” he said as he contorted his beak in disapproval. “Yeah, you gonna have to go through my agent honey child.”

“YC Hammer, but you’re not a yellow hammer are you?” I asked.

“Yep, well missy, we’ll just keep that one between us, I say, but this Cloud” he shook his head. "It ain't just Miss Jennifer Lawrence who wants to get on the groove you know." And then he stepped to the side on the wire and back again, nodding his head and lip synching to “U can’t touch this.”

And so here's what Mr Hammer's agent (Ms Wikipedia) sent me, and what turns out to be… A Baltimore Oriole (but not of the baseball variety).

Mr YC Hammer Official Photo 2014 (all rights reserved)

Pondering on the question of Harem Pants, I arrived into the rather appropriately named town of Nickerson (always good advice), my destination for the night.

It was just as the schools were kicking out and the yellow buses were ruling the road that I stopped to look at my map and a young girl called Angie came up to speak to me. I asked her if she knew where my B&B was and she said yes, but would I walk with her and chat to her for a while as we were heading the same way, which I did. She said she grew up in Wichita (around 50 miles away) and had moved here a few years ago, but she loved being able to talk to someone with a British accent. She told me to go to a restaurant called Flicks for dinner as they served her favourite Tator Tots, and I did (although I didn’t have Tots). What a sweet girl!

When I reached the B&B I was already prepared for the fact that it is also an “Exotic Animal Park” but I didn’t quite realise the extent of the collection. Having left Steed in the barn as requested, I’d been called back downstairs because I’d left his back-light on, and that was when I met Terrill, the animal keeper. Previously a cattle rancher in West Kansas, he had moved this way to look after his mother, and had found himself now working with more than cattle!

We got chatting and he gave me a quick tour, introducing me to the porcupines that he raised since they were babies, the miniature deer, the big blue parrot called “Bird” who flirts with the ladies (especially those with red hair), and my favourites, the kangaroos.

There were between 15-20 of the little cuties in total, of all different sizes, some with roos in pouches, and others feeding both a “pouch-roo”, and a “toddler-roo” at the same time. I have admit to a little crush on the male kangaroo, Jack, who stands around 6 foot tall, has not an ounce of fat on him, is ripped with a six pack worthy of “torso of the week”, great shoulders, with the cutest face, a lovely nature, and soft fur where he likes to be scratched under the chin… and given all the females in there, he seemed pretty content with his lot!

And as I headed out to dinner, I took a few snaps of the other inhabitants…

Back now in my own comfortable cage for the night… as it rumbles with thunder outside. My room is actually above the kangaroos (honest), so I have to tread lightly…and hope they're not afraid of the storm.

Praying for a change in the wind for tomorrow.

Me x

P.S. So why did the snake cross the road? Because he was going to help the damaged BMW-vindscreenviper on the other side.