Exploring Shattuck

After lazing around in the morning for a long time, recuperating from the ride last night, we got out and took a look around.

Directly across the street from the hotel was an outdoor windmill museum.

The sheer variety on display was astonishing. And these were not whimsical pieces or art either, they were all designs that some inventor had settled on for a particular purpose — and then probably patented as well.

The Montgomery Ward 'Windmaster', sold from 1939-1943.
Windmills abound!
Just enough time to get some nice photos and then the storm rolled in.

In the center of the windmill forest was a house, constructed in the prairie style. It was not new construction, but an actual homesteader’s house, built in 1901 and then transported to the outdoor museum and reconditioned, with the interior furnished to match the original time period.

Other structures had been brought along with it:

The interior of the house looked remarkably cozy!

But if you’re thinking about breaking in to have a more tactile look around, think again:

You really don't want to go inside the fronteir house.

"Come inside the fronteir house! I swear I won't sting you! More than a dozen times, anyway!"

The interior was crawling with wasps!!

Best to stay outside and admire the place from a nice distance. If you want something else to do, you can read the bit of poetry posted at the corner of the park:

On the north side, separating the windmill museum from a small parking lot, was a low brick wall.

Each brick was stamped with the name of an early pioneer, and the date they arrived in the area. I wondered if I might find some relatives mentioned here.

It didn’t take long. The first one I found was Daniel Birkle.

Then a procession of others:

I was delighted, and took pictures of them all.

The windmills and the wall were fascinating, but there was more to see. The Shattuck cemetery was just down the street.

Gotta follow the rules to visit the dead.

Like the windmill museum, there was no fence around the cemetery. Not a lot of vandalism or narrow disputes over property lines here.

The early sunset colors make a nice setting for browsing graves.

Using a chart posted near the gazebo, I narrowed down my search.

The only two "Birkle" plots in the whole place.

And there it was: The same grave marker that my father located in 1981.

Daniel Birkle's burial site, after 79 years.

For comparison, here’s the photo he took back then:

A photo of the same grave marker that my father Ben took in 1981.

After locating the grave I rode out to find some food, and got caught in a little storm as I returned to the hotel. Just a tiny reminder of the elements my ancestors had to deal with.

That was enough sightseeing for the first day. Nick and I both had work to do, and with the bad weather closing in, we hunkered down at the hotel.

The crawl to Shattuck

Today would be a long day — way longer than we thought. We didn’t know that setting out, which is why we lingered in town and had a fine breakfast.

We're pretty sure no one in a wheelchair needed to get by us. But yeah, we should have geared up somewhere else!

Actually found some good snacks in this town!

Around us the town hustled and bustled!

There was a “Museum Of The Plains” just north of the hotel that we should probably have checked out, but for some reason it didn’t feel inspiring.

I invite you to make up your own caption.

We rode due east all day, ranging away from each other for most of the afternoon, then bunching together as evening approached. We reached the edge of the Texas panhandle and entered Oklahoma around 6pm, stopping for snacks in a tiny town right on the border.

THE QUOTABLE NICK, #8

Nick:
“Why did I put a cookie in this pouch? That was stupid.”
Me:
“What happened?”
Nick:
“I put a cookie in and it got all mashed up. What did you think happened?”
Me:
“I think … you need to clean that pouch really thoroughly.”

Night fell, and the clouds thickened into a blanket and erased the stars. The wind began to push at us from the right side of the road. To keep our legs moving we paired our headphones and listened to a selection of Braindead Monkeys tracks, finishing up with Pavel Zmiewsky’s interview.

We were treated to a little chunk of midwestern spookyness as the mist thickened below the clouds and the moon came out.

Finally we reached Highway 283 and turned south for the final 10 mile stretch to Shattuck. We knew it would be tough because the wind had been blowing from the south with increasing intensity all night, and now we had to pedal straight into it, up and down a series of big rolling hills.

First sight of Shattuck.

Since I had all my gear packed low on the bike – and a lot more practice with this sort of thing – I slowed down to about 3 miles per hour and chugged along in a straight line. Nick charged ahead, motivated by what he called “loud music and anger.” With teenage-adjacent angst powering his legs he kicked his way back and forth across the road and over the hills and arrived in Shattuck fully an hour ahead of me. While I was listening to Act I of Hamlet (performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company) and gazing out across the misty hills, Nick was unpacking his bags in our motel room.

When I finally arrived in town, I paused to take a short video showing just how nasty the wind was.

I went straight past the motel to the one food source that was still open – a Sonic burger stand – and bought several hotdogs and hamburgers. Nick joined me a few minutes later and we obliterated the meal, stuffing things into our faces as fast as we could chew them.

And finally, we were in Shattuck! Having covered so much ground on bikes, it really did feel like a remote place. Combining it with “The Worst Hard Time” audiobook also made it feel a bit like a journey into the past. Time to look around…

Hey! It’s HAY!

Packing went quickly, and we were out and pedaling long before checkout time, like a couple of seasoned pros. On the way out of town we stopped for snacks and Nick got into a conversation with a local resident. When she learned that we were traveling to Shattuck to explore our Russian German ancestry, she declared that she too had Russian German roots, and we were probably all related in some way.

Nick reported: “Apparently there is a parts shop on Main Street in Shattuck, where a guy who is from a family that has been there forever lives and he might be able to tell us if he knows any Birkels.”

That’s pretty cool. We start a conversation with exactly one person in the area, and she turns out to be a semi-distant relative.

Today would be a day of riding through flatness, and checking out the growing things on both sides of the long, straight highway.

When I say the roads were straight, I am not kidding.

Did I mention that these roads are long and straight?

They also provided no cover. Which makes it a bit weird when you have to pee. But we were effectively in a private space — not because there were walls around us, but because we were just so far from anyone else that even if they were looking straight at us, they wouldn’t be able to tell what we were doing. Unless they had a telescope. But then they would be the weirdos, not us.

Pee break on a long long road.

The weather was magnificent, and though the wind wasn’t being helpful, it did bring us all kinds of interesting smells.

Leftover cotton from the harvest.

Every now and then we’d pass through a cluster of buildings, usually next to a massive grain elevator. Out here there’s a strange mixture of structures in constant industrial use with other things that are clearly abandoned.

Yes, that's a boxcar integrated into the structure of a building.
These towns are so small and remote that even vandals don't bother visiting.
When a new grain elevator replaces and old one, the old one just hangs around.
Texas likes to put stars on everything.
Now that is a great name.
HEEEEY!!!!! It's hay.

The few people we did encounter were friendly. I like to think we were making their day a bit more interesting too.

Friendly farmers, doing the work of hundreds of men thanks to fancy machines.

On we went for big chunks of time, bracketed by pee breaks, grain elevators, and interesting plants.

Nick catching up.

Almost caught up!

In the tiny “town” of Waka, I came across this imposing structure:

Dangerous things happen in Waka.

Nick figured it out after just a few seconds of looking. It’s a pumping station, for a pipeline used by a nearby refinery, and it’s well protected because it can potentially spew hydrogen sulfide gas in lethal amounts. Don’t mess with it!!

Grain forever!

It's still intact, after days of riding! Drying out a bit more though.

The day wore on, and we were treated to the sight of massive flocks of birds making their way from horizon to horizon.

Lots of birds around here.

In the evening we arrived at the day’s goal: Perryton, the so-called “Wheatheart Of The Nation.”

First and only order of business: Procure lots of food. We threaded through town and located a sushi restaurant, the “Ninja Sushi Steakhouse.” Perfect! We hadn’t seen sushi in quite a while.

Much evening snackage ensued.

This is the internationally recognized I GOT SUSHI! face.

We’d made good time despite the headwind. One more day of riding before we get to Shattuck. Hopefully the sushi will propel us!

Seeing Spearman

Today was another day off, and well-deserved since we’d gone 90 miles the day before.  I needed to lounge around and catch up on work anyway.

He was going to keep napping, but I mentioned coffee and snacks. Up in an instant.

In the mid-morning we went riding in search of food but didn’t see much.  The cafe at the end of the street was still closed.

The Spearman train museum.

This is a coffee shop. It even has a drive-by window. Wouldn't be out of place on a San Francisco street. Awesome.

On the far side of town we found a restaurant and got a meal while sitting outside.  Four of the restaurant staff came outside to gaze at our bikes and ask questions, which we gamely answered.  The other patrons were friendly but none of them were wearing masks.

On the way back to the hotel I stopped at a market for miscellaneous snacks while Nick rode ahead. Then I briefly explored the big Spearman tourist draw alongside the highway: The outdoor windmill museum.  Pretty neat, actually.

Lots of innovative windmill designs.
The J. B. Buchanan Windmill Park entrance.
Contributors and sponsors for the museum.
Lots of proud sponsors.

Nick worked on college stuff for a while and did his own exploratory ride, then disappeared into Star Trek and memes for the evening. 

At the hotel I ran a load of laundry, checked in at work again, and made travel plans for the next week.  Hotel rooms, truck rentals, train tickets.  Once we got to Shattuck we would be able to stay there for at least three days, recuperating and looking around, and then we’d ride one town over and grab a U-Haul the day after.

Twilight with Spock

In the morning I discovered that Nick was up early, finishing a meeting with a co-worker.  Afterwards he announced that he’d completed work on the feature he was co-developing.  Awesome!

As usual, the grain towers are the highest buildings in the town, by far.

Coffee and noise canceling headphones. A perfect combination.

It was going to be another long day or riding, possibly into the night.  We packed up and I decided that I needed even more calories for the road, so I gave the remains of my chocolate shake to Nick and then got a donut on the way out of Dalhart.  Nick took the chance to grab a cup of coffee.

We were both in good spirits as we threaded our way to the main highway and turned the bikes due east.  The land was flatter here, making progress more consistent, but the wind was being less predictable and gusted around us.  We passed a chunk of hours listening to The Worst Hard Time and watched the fields roll by.

The combination of sun, soil, flatness, and heavy machinery made for some astoundingly productive land.

Inspecting roadside foliage.

Old corn cob by the roadside.

Grains by the roadside.

We're road warriors and whatnot.
I had to get a shot of Nick enjoying his sausage snack.
Notice the cool new grain accessory on the bag.
Giant rolls of cotton ready to be trucked out.
Taking the opportunity to poke at the largest cotton bail he'll ever encounter.
That flag on the right actually says "ALL ABOARD THE TRUMP TRAIN."
Grain drying and storage facility.
This is an actual town in Texas, yes. You etter check it out.
Local farmer makin' bales.
Another town, another massive collection of grain elevators.

After a while we passed a dairy factory farm on the left, and the sheer size of the installation compelled me to just stop the bike and stare for a while.

Then we passed through the town of Cactus, which was dominated on the west side by a meat packing facility.  Out of curiosity I switched to “satellite view” on the phone and looked at the place from above.  A tangle of piping and big rectangular boxes next to bare-dirt holding pens with many hundreds of cows milling about, a couple of square lagoons as big as football fields, a feeder line into the railroad that passed through the town, and a giant parking lot full of truck trailers.   A massive intersection of power, water, and transportation, preparing meat consumed by millions of people a year.

We stopped for snacks and a bathroom break.  Nick was worried about how much ground we still had to cover.

THE QUOTABLE NICK, #6

Nick:
“Seeing as the next town doesn’t have anything in it, what do you think about hitchhiking?”
Me:
“Sounds like a great way to end up biking very late at night.”
Nick:
“Won’t we end up biking later if we don’t?”
Me:
“You’re assuming that standing by the side of the road waving our thumbs for several hours of remaining daylight would result in a ride.”
Nick:
“I thought we may be able to get a ride while we’re still moving. Perhaps with a little cash clutched in hand.”
Me:
“That’s … An interesting idea. I’ve never even heard of that working.”
Nick:
“I was thinking maybe a 10 or a 20. That would get the message across combined with the classic thumbs up at passersby.”
Me:
“Sorry, I’m not willing to endorse this plan.”
Nick:
“I’d put up half of that since it’s my idea. It would more than cover their gas given the prices around here!”
Me:
“Uh, I guess you can try it if you want? Assuming your mom doesn’t reach through the internet and kill me?”
Nick:
“Well I wouldn’t want to do it without your approval.”
Me:
“I’m not saying I’d prevent you.”
Nick:
“Nah, I would hate to leave you alone here. So I’m going to tough it out with you.”
Me:
“Aww. Thanks man!”

We continued due east, eventually reaching the town of Sunray.

So that's where Zoe keeps her stuff!

Nick found a convenience store and purchased a selection of canned items.  After he went in, I made him guard the bikes and got some snacks of my own.

When I came out, Nick was chatting with a guy who’d been in the store ahead of me.  The guy was telling a story about how his grandmother was driving too fast on a highway nearby, and t-boned a cotton harvester that was entering the road from a field, and died on the spot.  He finished his tale by admonishing us to be careful on our bikes.  We said we would.

On the way out of Sunray we turned left, going east again.  The sun had set and the wind was dying down, and the sky was going through that deep indigo transition marking the final stage of twilight.  Stars were appearing.  I paired our headphones together and started playing a selection from a playlist I’d made, aptly called “Twilight.”  It was perfect for the moment.

Startoucher25:03BiospherePatashnik
Memories Fade (DJ Fixed OVA Rip Mix)1 of 12:54CorneliusGhost in the Shell Shin Gekijouban OVA
Surveillance (DJ Fixed Half-Edit)3 of 103:34Noise UnitVoyeur
out of body29:35InnersphereAmbient Soho Vol 1
Sputnik Sunrise10 of 134:56DesolateLunar Glyphs
The Third Planet10 of 138:31BiosphereTrance Europe Express 3
Nightstalker7 of 111:45Kenji KawaiGhost In The Shell OST
Mir65:19BiospherePatashnik
Bardo Thodol5 of 95:35Demdike StareTryptych: Liberation Through Hearing
Sunspot8 of 116:49MobyPlay: The B Sides
Three Years3 of 145:48PlateauWild Planet
Trust (Jealousy Mix)2 of 167:36MicroglobeEl Mondo Ambiente
Time Reflects (excerpt)1 of 114:59Mick ChillageSonitus Liberabit Vos
The End (Remix)7 of 118:15ScornMacro Dub Infection Vol. 1
Silver Rain Fell (Deep Water mix)9 of 125:25ScornA Brief History Of Ambient Vol 4: Isolationism
Novelty Waves (Biosphere Darkroom Mix)3 of 57:03BiosphereNovelty Waves (2-Disc Single)
Modring_intro1 of 105:16S.E.T.I. (Lagowski)Temporary Distractions
Signals42:47Brian EnoApollo: Atmospheres & Soundscapes
35.7c14 of 171:47Yoko Kanno (菅野よう子)Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex OST 3
Decription35:52BiospherePatashnik
Download11 of 1111:40Skinny PuppyLast Rights
Gebirge2 of 521:26Biosphere + Pete NamlookThe Fires of Ork

To keep us both moving I unwrapped a chocolate bar, and as we drifted past each other on the road I held out pieces to Nick, which he grabbed and chomped.  With this pleasant combination of cool air, music, and chocolate, we passed well into night.

THE QUOTABLE NICK, #7

Nick:
“I finally have a stable rhythm and my knees are in equal amounts of pain!”
Me:
“Hooray…?”

Eventually we stopped to take a break from riding, and let the circulation adjust in our bodies.  We’d been doing the equivalent of sitting in recliners for most of the day so it felt good to just stand for a while.  I busted out the remains of the Chinese food and chomped it.  Nick said he wasn’t hungry.

The entire time we stood there, we were passed by only one vehicle — a giant truck, which we saw approaching from miles away.  Excluding that, the highway was entirely ours.  It was cool with a mild breeze, surrounded in all directions by fields of long grass shining faintly blue in the moonlight filtering down around the clouds.  With all the heat in our bodies and the layers of clothing, we felt absolutely no effect from the cold.

I recognized the moment as one of those fairly unique to bicycling.  We were on a random patch of road, but between the darkness and silence and insulation, and the convenient collections of useful stuff kick-standed nearby, the spot felt more like the living room of a house.  A private spot to relax — one that we’ve been to a dozen times before and might wander into again later.  Except in reality, as soon as we put our feet back on the pedals and cycled away, the spot would be gone forever.  We’d never return for as long as we lived.

I got the impression that Nick was subconsciously getting this and enjoying it, even if he didn’t quite have the words.

We moved on, leaving the spot in the past.

After a while we hit highway 207 and turned northeast.  Vehicles began to pass more frequently, though still at a rate less than one every ten minutes or so.  One of them turned out to be a police SUV, which activated its lights and pulled over about a hundred feet in front of us.  The officer got out and chatted with us.  “Just wanted to check in and see if you were okay,” he said.  We thanked him and he drove off.  We were probably the weirdest non-illegal thing he’d seen in a week.

With about five miles to go, Nick cued up an episode of classic Star Trek on his phone, and we paired headphones again and listened to it together.  It was “Spock’s Brain”, the one where aliens physically extract Spock’s brain and replace it with a remote control device.  Goofy, anachronistic, outrageously sexist, and full of cantankerous Kirk-McCoy-Spock bickering.  It carried us all the way to Spearman, where we checked in to our room for the night.

Preparing for another expedition into a snack store.

Nick decided it was time for Second Dinner, and turned the microwave area into a laboratory.

Combine all the canned things into one vessel, and dinner is served!

In what new and exciting way is the interface broken on this particular microwave?