Elk hide painting of the Sand Creek massacre by Eugene J. Ridgely Sr. Cheyenne Chief Black Kettle can be seen in the lower center, holding an American flag.
COURTESY OF HISTORY COLORADO

Tomorrow I head off to Kit Carson and Eads, CO. I’ve always considered this journey to have two distinct parts, and tomorrow marks the beginning of the second. From here on, I won’t be crossing major mountain ranges or facing long distances between charging stops. There are plenty of nice, straight roads to choose from, and no more choke points.

In this second half of the trip, I expect my biggest challenges will be rain, wind, and heat. During the first half, my main concerns were mountains, long distances between charging stations, unpredictable weather (wind, rain, snow), and finding non-interstate routes. The terrain ahead—at least through Kansas—should be relatively flat. That means I can increase my average speed to about 35 mph and get up to 70 miles between charges. If charging stations are reasonably spaced, I should be able to ride three legs a day (210 miles total). That’ll mean 6 hours of riding and 4 hours of midday charging—definitely a full day, but it should speed up my crossing significantly.

Wednesday’s weather looks a bit dicey, but things improve after that. I’ll also be passing near Eads, Colorado, home to the site of the Sand Creek Massacre. In Colorado AP History, we used to do a paper comparing Sand Creek to the My Lai Massacre. Not to diminish the horror of My Lai, but Sand Creek was arguably even worse. I’m looking forward to seeing the site and learning more about how it's remembered.

A painting depicting the 1864 Sand Creek massacre on a buffalo skin hangs on a wall of Sand Creek Massacre Descendants Trust attorney Larry Derryberry in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma November 30th, 2012. The Denver Post/ Andy Cross

The following is a quote from Kit Carson on the massacre:

Jis' to think of that dog Chivington (Commander of the Massacre) and his dirty hounds, up thar at Sand Creek. His men shot down squaws, and blew the brains out of little innocent children. You call sich soldiers Christians, do ye? And Indians savages? What der yer s'pose our Heavenly Father, who made both them and us, thinks of these things? I tell you what, I don't like a hostile red skin any more than you do. And when they are hostile, I've fought 'em, hard as any man. But I never yet drew a bead on a squaw or papoose, and I despise the man who would.

— Kit Carson to Col. James Rusling

I have relative that in 1638’s that nearly started a war with a peaceful native American tribe after he killed a brave for the purpose of robbing him of his wampum. He was hung for this murder. Rightfully so. I might try to go by the place where this happened too on this trip. I find the Native American Genocide to be one of the worst moments of our nations history. I feel that we have done a very poor job of taking accountability for this.

https://www.denverpost.com/2012/12/29/sand-creek-massacre-descendants-seek-justice-148-years-later/

Today, I met up with some old friends. The first was Rich. He and I went to Graland Country Day School together. Graland aggressively tracked students based on academic performance, and Rich and I consistently found ourselves in what was informally known as the “dumb kid” class. Our section had no girls—just boys with low test scores, ADHD, or dyslexia. The only “intervention” we received was being separated from the smart kids, presumably so we wouldn’t “contaminate” them. Most of our higher-achieving classmates remember Graland fondly; Rich and I found it pretty demoralizing. One of the funnier twists? When the prettiest girl in our class got married, we were the only two guys from the class who got invited. If you can’t be smart, be lucky. We never talked about it back then, but as adults, it’s kind of funny to reminisce about being the dumbest kids in the room. Rich has done really well for himself—he’s had a successful career, has a lovely wife, a gorgeous house and two great daughters. On my walk home I couldn’t help but wonder: how much better could Rich have done if he’d been smart? And maybe me too. Then again, if I were one of the smart kids, I sure as hell wouldn’t be crossing the country on a unicycle

Later, I met up with Wag Shore (Wagner Shore II, father of Wagner Shore III). Wag and I met in first grade—he came to my birthday party and gave me a globe, which I kept in my room until I moved out after college. It’s still one of the best birthday gifts I’ve ever received. We also ended up living on the same dorm wing during our freshman year of college. Wag became an internal medicine physician and practiced in Vail, Colorado, where he was the personal doctor for Gerald and Betty Ford. He said they were lovely people, especially Betty. He told me that once, while working at the clinic, he received a call from Susan Ford—President Ford’s daughter—informing him that her father had passed away and inviting him to the funeral. Wag is a deeply liberal guy, wears his hair in a ponytail, loves to ski and rock climb, and has the charm and sparkle of someone who lives fully. I’m sure the Fords treated him like family. He lives just a few blocks from my mom, so we stopped by her house so I could show him my unicycle. Wearing flip-flops and no helmet, I promptly fell off—but with no consequences. I guess it’s hard to actually get hurt in front of a doctor. I guess I still belong in the dumb kid class.

Why don’t you get hurt when a doctor is present?

Remember the guy who started the fistfight at Jeff, the barn hunt guy’s bachelor party? Well, we got together too—thanks to Jeff, my online mission control, who arranged the meetup. We had so much fun! Whipper was the Ferris Bueller of our college class. He was so cool he got invited to every fraternity party but never actually joined one. During the bachelor party brawl, a giant guy grabbed Whipper—and I jumped on the guy’s back, choking him until he let go. Ah, to be young again. We had a great time catching up. Hopefully, we’ll ski together next winter—preferably without any more fighting.

One of the interesting things about each of thee conversations was that almost none of them were about work. It seems like family, health and friends are more important when you get older. I would not have met up with any of these guys if I had not done this silly trip. Each of them was kind enough to reach out to me. I need to find a better way of staying connected. It has been the most meaningful part of the trip.

I hope you had a great return from the long weekend. With luck, I’ll make it to Eads tomorrow—it’ll be an almost 200-mile ride!

Massacres & old friends

New Country for Me

I was almost put in time out