Home on the Range Sickness: Missing the Dirty Kanza

I finally kept a promise to my wife. Each of the past 3 years I told her in June that I would not race the Dirty Kanza next year. At long last I've kept my word. I will not be in Emporia this week, after 5 years in a row.

Gravel City 2017

Truth be told I'm in no condition to race this year. A very long delightful ski season meant that I did not start riding my bike outside until the 3rd week in April. When I did I started too hard and pulled a back muscle. I also tore my left rotator cuff falling on a tricky descent. The shoulder pain has made riding on dirt roads difficult. As a final twist of fate I came down with bronchitis last week. It is a very good thing I did not plan on racing 200+ miles this Saturday.

Shake Down Ride with the King, Dan Hughes

And yet I know plenty of folks who are. Some are veterans (Ted King, Amanda Nauman, Kristi Mohn, Jayson O'Mahoney), some are racing the Kanza for the first time (Kaitie Keough, Jason Ebberts). Some are taking on a new challenge (DKXL for Yuri Hauswald, Rebecca Rusch, Dan Hughes, Don Buttram). They are all giddy with excitement. I am excited for them. I might have checked the Chase County weather forecast a few times this week.  A part of me wants to be there, just in Emporia, surrounded by the thousands of fellow gravel racers. The collective energy in the days before the race is electric. The DK festival grows bigger each year. I can only imagine all the sights & chatter on Commercial street this week.

Good Advice Always, but especially at 2 miles to Go

But I am not there. I will spend this weekend painting my house, patching window screens, and rehabbing my rotator cuff. I'll watch the social media posts about DK200 slowly drip in on Saturday afternoon. I will eagerly search for my friends in the results, wondering what adventures & misfortunes they endured. The leftover Kanza excitement might propel me on a long dirt road ride Sunday. I figure 80-90 miles of New Hampshire dirt roads is plenty for me right now. Still it's not the same as being back home on the prairie.

I expect that I will race the Kanza again, next year if I'm lucky, but certainly another year soon. Perhaps skipping a year is a good thing, like leaving a field fallow for a season so that it can revive. Yet something about the deep blue Kansas sky and the vast stretches of tall grass haunts my dreams. When I close my eyes I see a narrow strip of gravel cutting through endless rolling hills. The cows look bemused as I ride by under the bright sapphire dome. You can take the boy off the prairie, but you can't take the prairie out of the boy. Kansas winds drive the grit under your skin and the sun bakes it in. No amount of scrubbing ever gets it all out. So I'll likely always have that itch, the notion that I ought to be out riding the Flint Hills this time of year. Maybe next year I'll get another scratch at it.