Winding Roads and Widening Thoughts

This morning started slowly, as I let myself enjoy breakfast and my usual cup of cold coffee before heading out just after 8 a.m. It felt like a “shorter” day—just about 30 miles—and I already knew I’d stick to Highway 71 all the way to Neosho. That kind of simplicity brings its own sense of calm, so I didn’t stress about navigation.

The air was cool as I began, and the shoulder of Highway 71 was wide and welcoming. It started downhill, curved through sweeping bends, and then transitioned into some uphill sections. The landscape felt different today—dry trees lining the road, rock formations rising along the edges where the highway seemed carved through the land. Among the dryness, one blooming tree stood out, bursting in purple.

I found myself reflecting on the land, and the sacred history it holds—particularly in connection with Indigenous communities. Lost in thought and lulled by the scenery, I missed the turnoff for Business 71 and accidentally found myself forging ahead on Interstate 49 for about a mile. A first! I have to admit—I enjoyed the unexpected thrill of it. It was a downhill stretch with light traffic, and the shoulder was generously wide, so I took advantage of the moment to stretch out my stride and fly a bit.

I took the first available exit and found myself rolling into Pineville. It was a lovely surprise—kayakers were launching into the river or already paddling downstream. That added a bit of life and movement to the day. After a little uphill, the rest of the run flowed smoothly. My legs felt strong, and the open road lifted my spirits. Still, my mind wandered back to thoughts of Indigenous reservations and the deep, painful complexities of inequality and history. There's no easy way to process it all—but I try to hold space for it as I move forward.

When I arrived in Neosho, I made a quick shopping stop—just the essentials: a salad kit, two yogurts, a can of beans, some nuts, and a gallon of water. In the store, I noticed a few Indigenous people and couldn’t help but wonder about their stories, their lives, their experiences today. The contrast between beauty and sorrow—between strength and injustice—is something that sits heavy with me.

I eventually found a hotel, checked in, and spent some time planning my upcoming route across Kansas. It’s not a small thing to map out the days ahead—but it gives me a sense of purpose. Now I’m tired again and ready for a good night’s sleep, hoping for an early start tomorrow.

Life is good. And yet, it carries a weight. There’s so much that moves me, so much that makes me sad, and sometimes the complexity of it all feels overwhelming. But I keep moving. And I’m thankful you're here with me.

See you on the road.