The belly of Hell?

6/13/09 ~ After waking up and gourging on a delicious breakfast of French Toast, we decided that it was the hardest thing to leave Frey family. They were the closest thing we got to a family and pedaling away from them and Dan was very hard. We rode out of Colorado Springs and hit the plains dead on. Mile after mile of nothing went by. Breaking for lunch in Punkin Center, we huddled behind someones fence to escape the horrendous crosswind. After another 3 hours and 105 miles under our belt we hit the town where we planned to stay - Aroya. It was nothing. A settler town that had dried up and there was nothing there. Seth was on the verge of tears. There was nothing, and we quickly realized that we had to do some quick decision making because severe whether was rolling in (later we found out there was a tornado warning). Out came our thumbs and within 15 minutes a naval officer who worked for the NSA picked us up. He was great and got us 17 miles down the road to Kit Carson which was a small enough town that if you sneezed you might miss it.

We got on our bikes and went looking around town for anyplace to get food and Soda. Again absolutely nothing. We were desparate enough to check the liquor store. There a man was kind enough to enlighten us that we were in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing here. He told us repeatedly that we were in the belly of Hell. After that encouraging tidbit. We rode across the street to find an incredibly kind couple who ended up inviting us to a church meal of all you can eat buffalo barbecue, potatoes, and baked beans. As we ate Bob proceeded to tell us about the concert being put on afterwards by the "Cowboys for Jesus". The concert was great with some of the best fiddle playing I've ever seen. After talking with a few people, we made camp in the local pavillion and slept like babies, thankful for the shelter as it dumped rain that night. in the belly of Hell? Definately not.