Oodles-Ado in Glasco, Kansas

84 hard miles today in some intense heat with a wind that was at times in our faces and at times on our side, but never at our backs. We made it into Beloit extremely tired after a head-wind busting 26 miles. After lunch we decided that we had to make it to Clay Center tonight, and so we should cycle to Glasco at the height of the heat, leaving around 2:30 pm to make the 17 mile trip. When we arrived, we found another town that appeared deserted, only an old run-down, closed gas station greeted us as we came into the town. Turning into town, we found empty streets and an old high school. We were beginning to feel a sense of desperation with empty water bottles and 37 miles to the next real town. Then, around a corner, we came to what appeared to be main street, with businesses on each side of the street. Our spirits rose again as we looked for some kind of cafe or store where we could find cold water and some food to last us the long leg to Clay Center. Everything was closed. In fact, the "businesses" consisted of thrift stores, a liquor store and some consignment shops. Our hearts sank as we were desperate for some cool air and beverages. Then we saw it. A sign sat on the sidewalk proclaiming that this place was "OPEN." The sign on the door read, "Oodles-Ado," which raised our curiosity even more. We didn't have a choice, this was our only hope. When we walked inside, we were greeted by Jack Balog, a man in his late 60s, sitting at a table by himself.

"Howdy"

"Hi, the sign said Open, we're looking for some cold water and maybe something to eat."

"Well, you have come to the right place."

This is the kind of town that we would only have come across on a bicycle. Jack is the kind of person whom we would only have met on a bicycle tour. Jack's place was a kind of coffeeshop, a kind of consignment store, with shelves and shelves of stuff that locals were trying to sell, and a kind of internet cafe--consisting of one desktop computer that anyone can use for a small fee. We sat down with some cold drinks, savoring the cold air, and began to talk to Jack. The next two hours were a great testament to the energy of a bicycle tour, the hidden corners in lost towns in this country.

Jack told us that the town was established by Scottish immigrants but that the name morphed from Glasgow to Glasco simply because people couldn't spell it right, and the shortened name stuck. Today, about 400 people call Glasco home. Jack talked about the town's "heyday" during the WWII era when it had 3 gas stations, 3 restaurants, and twice the population. Today, according to Jack, the average age of the residents is 66. Young people leave as soon as they can find a place to land.

"We have a big problem in Glasco today," Jack tells me.

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"We have a town dog here. About 15 years ago, somebody dropped him off here and left him. Locals started to feed him and we all just fell in love with him. He hangs around main street and we all look after him. When the shade is right, he lies in the middle of main street and refuses to move. We have all learned to drive around him. But last week, a state policeman drove through town and when he saw the dog, he turned on his siren, but the dog wouldn't move. He asked us who the dog belongs to and we all said that he was the town dog. Now the judge is saying that the dog needs to be chained up, registered, and maybe even put down because he is so old and can hardly walk."

"What's the dog's name?"

"Dog.....D-O-G.....that's his name."

Before we left for Clay Center, as we walked out to our bicycle, there he was, lying in the shade on the other side of the street. Jack called to him and he wobbled across the street. This dog has found his place in this world in the funniest of ways, but in the most noble of ways. The story of the communities connection to Dog touched both of us, and we rode away admiring how a dog's spirit can touch a whole town.

Jack shared his spirit with us, including his love for Roman history. He shared with us his collection of old Roman coins, his collection of meteorites which he has purchased online, and his own amazing story. He worked for years in Kalamazoo, Michigan in a GM plant. He was eventually hired by Lockheed and moved out to California. During the Y2K scare, an evangelical preacher told his sister in law and mother in law that everything was going to crash and that they should sell everything and move to a small town. They did, buying a house in Glasco. When Jack and his wife visited them later, they both admired the slow pace of the place. During a walk, Jack's wife saw a house that she liked and jokingly mentioned that they should buy the place if it were for sale. As they turned the corner, they saw a for sale sign and decided to buy it. They sold their Calif. house for $270,000 and bought their Kansas house for $15,000, and have been there ever since.

We took a wonderful dip in the Glasco pool and had pizza there at the pool to fill us up before our ride to Clay Center. Jack waived the price on everthing, several drinks, food and internet use. The people at the pool refused to charge us the entry fee. Thank you Glasco.

We had an incredible 37 mile ride to Clay Center through the Flint Hills of Kansas and Gabriela's childhood territory.