In 1956, American engineers took a map of the US and drew a thick, straight line from Denver to Kansas City. This, they decided, will become the route of the Interstate 70 from Colorado to Kansas City.
I don’t know if it really happened like that, of course, but that’s how I imaged it yesterday, after 568 of mindkilling, butt-numbing miles of this seemingly endless stretch of concrete. Wednesday afternoon, some 40 miles from Boulder, I took a sharp turn to the left, and ever since it’s been one long, boring road. Exactly like everybody said it would be.

The I-70 may be a boring road to ride on, around me there is plenty to see. It’s amazing to see what people sometimes think they need to take with them on a trip.
The Kansas landscape isn’t boring either, in contrast to what I’ve been expecting. The first 100 miles weren’t very interesting, a little empty and flat, but the further I went to the east, the better it got. Especially the Flint Hills were beautiful. Green and sloping, with every once in a while a river that cut through the hills, curly like a snake. Cattle were grazing contently under the trees in the high grass and here and there I saw a wooden house in the middle of a sea of green. In the sun, from the highway, it all looked very idyllic.

Hopefully today will be just as nice. Just another 72 miles until I get to Independence, the real starting point of the trip. And hopefully after that I’ll use more than just the center of my tire.