Not in Kansas any more

The station is 34 kilometers away. My only available means of transportation is a bike.


I did not watch the news. So I have no idea that I am about to meet Christian. In my experience it is a bad sign when the weather has a first name. This is no exception. I struggle with the headwind, shift gears like playing a console. Stretches of forrest shelter me from the wind.


On the downside: under the trees the track is completely covered with twigs, acorns and wet leaves. The sky is dark, but the winds are strong enough to rip apart the clouds. On this occasions the landscape gleams.


Windmills convert some of the gale force into electricity.


I follow the path …


… until I see the landmark of my destination.


Hopefully, there I will no longer be in Kansas any more.

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