Saturdays in September

What a glorious time of year. Saturday afternoon in the shade of the mature maple tree, while all around luxurious, warm sunlight bathes the neighborhood. A cool breeze from the west makes even common outdoor tasks a pleasure. A good day to take Jack on the single speed Hawthorne, in the seat behind the saddle, not in the trailer. Wear the bright yellow, reflective safety vest to increase visibility. Turn east out of the drive onto Powhattan. It's one of the sections between north and south streets that is gravel, and it crunches beneath the tires. Adjust the rearview mirror on the helmet so cars can be seen approaching from behind.

Then, at the intersection turn north onto Sycamore. A smoothly paved gradual incline leads to the a main artery out of town in Wilson street. A right turn goes east again. It descends gradually all the way to a Franklin Co. road, Davis street. The bicycle picks up speed gradually to where the single speed Hawthorne hits top end and pedaling is impossible. Few cars and pickups are out and about, and they're generally respectful of the space the bicycle requires. Hold your line and keep straight. Give them a wave as they pass if they gave the bike room. Not everyone gives room.

On Davis street, turn left again and head north past the American Eagle distribution center and its campus. Between the two massive cream colored buildings is a walkway above a paved delivery road. It's enclosed for employees to walk between the two addresses.

The road levels out and at the stop sign where the road intersects with Franklin Co.,Sand Creek

road. Schuff steel is on the corner where they hundreds of massive dark steel I beams and channel iron and different arches stacked neatly beneath a football field size bridge crane. A mistake made in handling one of those steel beams is unforgiving. Men have died on a half dozen different occasions there through the years of its operation.

Stay north on Davis and a quarter mile section of the road turns to gravel. Keep going up to the newly paved approach to the viaduct over what will be the new section of Kansas highway 59. Do a U turn and look at the dozen or so different five ton trucks with their unique tanks and hoses and boxes and each one a red cab with a white business logo on the door.

Get a drink from the canteen as thousands of small flat bottomed, puffy topped clouds race by above. Drink in the deep blue of the September sky. Smell harvest on the wind.

Back down the overpass, retrace the path onto the gravel and stop beside a field of feed corn still on the stalk. Get off the bike and walk around beside the corn. Listen to it. It sounds like people talking in a convention, or in the intermission of a play. It rattles, chatter. It whispers. Thumb off a dozen kernels into the palm. Pour ten into Jack's pocket and let him carry two in his hands.

It's getting on toward supper time now. Ride along and keep the eyes on the side of the road for pliers and rope and bungee cords, and reflectors. Listen to Jack ask about the chasing dogs and the cows in the dairy farm. Listen to the train pass a ways off, then see the long line of rail cars through a break in the trees. Thank God for prosperity and family, and his creation. Ride home without incident and cook chicken out on the grill. Heat canned corn on the rangetop.