Kansas ain't so bad, but where do they keep the bathrooms?

It was tough to leave our family behind in Palmer Lake after having so much playtime.  Having a place to call home for the past two nights was a welcome and refreshing change after having spent so long isolated in the desert. 

The long road brought us next to Limon, a junction city and the last Coloradan city on the way to Kansas.  The only hub for 40 or so miles, Limon is the gateway to Colorado - or to Kansas, depending on where you’re headed.  It is so far from the vertical landscape near Colorado City, plain, and flat, it may as well have been a part of the Kansas plains.  Our McDonalds pit stop there was buzzing with families.  It was so cramped and crowded that we jumped in a tiny corner to check on the hotel accommodations awaiting us in Lawrence, Kansas.  We quickly ducked out without anyone hassling us to buy something for our use of wifi.  

Office hours by appointment.

Many friends had told us that the drive from Colorado through Kansas was the worst part about their trip across country, but we saw it differently.  The landscape was indeed wide and dry, especially given that the severe drought had crisped most corn silks, but aside from miles and miles of unusually crippled crops, the parts we drove past were not as barren or flat as we had expected.  At this time of year, it was made up of gently rolling hills of golden grass, weather-vaned barns, and silos, reminiscent of a Thomas Hart Benton painting.  There may not have been much to see or do along the interstate, but our most favorite stumble-upons from the trip were found journeying from Colorado through Kansas.

Barren Burlington?

Our first stumble-upon was born of necessity, when in the most barren of Nowheres arises an urgent need to find a bathroom.  We decided to drive into a plain looking town called Burlington, CO.  Its downtown was comprised of many mid-century buildings in good repair, slow commerce, and few pedestrians.  

This old deco multi-storefront facade looks like it is out of a Hollywood movie.

Duerst if we know what those are.

The old state armory building.

The Carousel Rose looks to be an antique shop piled high with junk.

Looping around the downtown, we found a collection of old buildings on a plot belonging to the Burlington Historical Museum.

A row of historical buildings are an invitation for an afternoon of meandering through, but we have miles to cover.

Kansas has lots of wonderful barns!  This museum has a lovely example.

This Old Town depot has a hole for a pole in the roof to receive wire telegraphs.

A stark warning for lovers and history lovers in search of history.

Loomis' lured anywhere there is a promise for marshmallows.

A covered wagon no longer fit for pioneering.  You would need a hat, at least.

Dry, dry Kansas could use more than ice.

  

Not finding the appropriate facilities we were in need of here at the museum, we gnawed on jerky as we climbed back into the car. A hand-painted sandwich board promised a mid-afternoon can-can show, but we were still on the hunt for facilities and there was still no bathroom in sight! 

Motoring along, we kept finding humbly stenciled signs with the word “carousel” dotted around town. Some wandering led us to a slightly more elaborate sign, and possibly tamer equines than could be found at the museum.  Something like an air raid siren sounded off for an afternoon test (we hoped).  Perhaps those persistent little markers might lead us to a little spot for relief at a simple fairground?

Dang, Kansas.  That's a big silo.

Fancy carved carousel sign spells R-E-L-I-E-F?

At last we find the end location of all these signs advertising the town's historic carousel.  But what did we actually find when we arrived?