A message from the Connecticut Burns Care Foundation

Ryan and Dwight hope to raise $10,000 to support the burn camp, which will host 70 children between the ages of 8 and 18. They are determined to reach the West Coast as a personal challenge as well as helping young burn survivors.

Started in 1991, the Arthur C. Luf Children's Burn Camp is located in northern Connecticut on 176 acres. Every summer, burn survivors come to the burn camp, which is a safe and fun environment that helps kids heal emotionally and physically. The Burn Camp is free to the children, who come primarily from the Northeast and some foreign counteries, but any burn survivor child anywhere is welcome. More than 70 adult counselors, primarily active and retired firefighters and burn unit nurses, occupational and physical therapists, child psychologists and even a doctor will serve as mentors for the week.

It's also our goal to promote burn awareness and fire prevention and education, which we do year around. We sponsor a burn survivor, burned in a car accident that involved speeding and drinking alcohol, who speaks to high school students throughout Connecticut. We also support the burn unit at Bridgeport Hospital, helping to purchase equipment.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Dry Western Kansas Soil

This might explain why we're seeing more grazing lands. It must be hard to raise crops on this cracked earth.

We spent last night in a park by a dried-up lake in Atwood, KS, at the end of a 65 mile day. We had to spend half of our energy wrestling that brutal Kansas wind we've heard so much about. It finally caught up to us, and came out of the southwest with a vengeance, pushing us back while trying to knock us off the road. It had plenty of time to gather strength while blowing over those leagues of golden stubble left by the harvested wheat, or sweeping across the unkempt yellow and grey beards of the low rolling hills.

Speaking of which, the flatness of Kansas (if the northern part of the state is any indication) has been grossly over-stated. It's far from mountainous, but is hardly flat, either. Rollers all the way.

Yesterday was the third consecutive day of 100+ degree heat. The day before we rode 92 miles to Norton, where the sheriff's department gave us vouchers to stay in the Hillcrest Motel, courtesy of the local Ministerial Alliance.

What else have we seen in Kansas? Huge weeds growing out of the cracks in the road, giant ant hills, wild sunflowers, and over-sized bugs. I mean flies with two-inch wing spans. The biggest nuissance has been the grasshoppers that lie all along the roadside, who like to jump directly in our way as we go by. They seem to like bouncing agianst our spokes and clinging to our legs.

Entrance to a giant red ant hill

Open spaces

1 comment:

Albert said...

Dude, are you sure you’re in the right State or are you possibly suffering from heat exhaustion? Kansas is unequivocally flatter than a pancake.

Using modern analytical techniques, three geographers measured the flatness of Kansas, and contrasted it with the flatness of a pancake. Of course this was on a mathematical relative scale since a Kansas-sized pancake was not available for comparison purposes. Nor was a pancake- sized Kansas available for that matter. A US Geological Survey provided the topo data for a digital scale model. The pancake was purchased from the International House of Pancakes. The result? I’ll quote the experts:

“Mathematically, a value of 1.000 would indicate perfect, platonic flatness. The calculated flatness of the pancake transect is approximately 0.957, which is pretty flat, but far from perfectly flat. After many hours of programming work, we were able to estimate that Kansas's flatness is approximately 0.9997. That degree of flatness might be described, mathematically, as ‘damn flat.’”