Weightshifting S2E9: We’re definitely in Kansas, Dorothy.
Day 9: Sept 18, 2023
Denver, CO →
One more person to see before we leave Colorado. Matt Jacobs is a longtime friend formerly of New York and Brooklyn, but now lives in Denver with his family. He’s another part of the bevy of people we know who’ve relocated to this great state.
We meet at Steam Espresso Bar. Good drinks, great patio, and the residential neighborhood it resides in is very peaceful. We pick up with Matt like no time has passed, and it’s always heartening to have quality conversations with him. With our schedule dictated by decent movement today, we don’t linger as long as we’d like, and hope to see each other again sooner rather than later.
Kansas is on the agenda. We need to lay down some miles to reach about the halfway point of the state, prepping for the final push to St. Louis.
The original plan was to get a cheap hotel somewhere along I-70. I hadn’t even considered the idea of camping out here, given that public lands dissipate once you leave the West. However, I had casually looked into some paid campgrounds as an even cheaper option since we were moving though Kansas with utility.
A friend, Craig, suggests Wilson State Park, which sits on a lake and not too far off the highway. I poke around more on the map and discover that the northern side of the lake has an area called Lucas Park, which is maintained by the Army Corps. of Engineers. This campground offers two distinct areas: a paid area with hookups for electricity and water, while the “primitive” side a little further out is FREE. Let’s be clear here: Their definition of primitive means a stone picnic table and fire pit, along with vault toilets and trash receptacles nearby.
No one is on the primitive side. We scope out all of the campsites and find a solo spot more distant than the others that borders the lake. We park. We level. We get out and stretch. It’s warm out. And windy.
The water beckons, so naturally we wade in. It’s not too cold and feels refreshing in the heat and humidity of the Midwest.
It’s a marvel this exists in the middle of Kansas.
It’s tranquil here, though the wind is strong and will blow all night according to the weather report — we mentally brace ourselves for it.
A dinner, a sunset, an easing of our minds and bodies.
Jen and I keep commenting how delighted we are with the night’s accommodations.
Life on the road continues to pleasantly surprise us.