As usual, people started getting up before 5 a.m., so I got up also.  BAK provided breakfast – ham and egg casserole, o.j. and cereal.  It wasn’t a very large breakfast, but at least it got us started.  Mark and I left Mankato about 7:00 a.m. into another beautiful, cool morning.   With so many wheat fields around, Mark suggested we take our bikes out into one of them and take our pictures.  A passing cyclist commented about our wheat field picture, to which I replied, “when we run off the road we really run off the road." Then it was on to Concordia.

About 20 miles from Concordia we started talking about eating.  Deciding a McDonald’s or Hardee’s breakfast would be great, our legs started pushing the pedals faster.   The closer we got to Concordia, the harder we rode.  By the time we were 4-5 miles northwest of town we were really moving, being on a long stretch of level pavement with a strong tailwind.  Feeling like I was flying, I sat upright on my bike seat (probably looking like some type of blue-eyed red headed bug), put my arms out and nearly flying at 27 mph!  When one is used to riding along with your head down, bucking the wind at 15 mph – this was as close to flying as I could get!  We arrived in Concordia at the  school at 9:30 a.m. – only 2 ½ hours after we started.  Mark and I averaged 16 mph for the 40 mile trip.  The discussion we had about another breakfast in Concordia really put wings on our feet!

A short while later we found a McDonald’s and had our second breakfast.  We ate with another rider from New Jersey who comes home to Kansas each year to visit family and ride across the state.  Mark and I returned to the school where we had already staked out (using helmets, gloves and water bottles), what we thought was a relatively good location on the gym floor, given we were, for once, some of the early arrivals.

When the baggage truck arrived we were able to help unload it.  The rule for early arrivals was that when the baggage truck arrived, you were to help unload it.  Not having done this before, I had no idea how big a job this actually was.  It is amazing how many pieces of baggage 370 people can put in a full size rental truck.  Two lines would form at the back of the truck and would curve out from there.  Like a bucket brigade, the baggage would start coming out of the truck and down the line.  Some of the bags were of a reasonable size and shape and were easily tossed from person to person until reaching the end of the line and piled on the ground.  Other bags were otherwise and on the far end of the scale.  After unloading,  we  retrieved our belongings and landscaped our claims.  Our claims began to have a  semblance of order with our bags opened and beds made.

I decided to do a little exploring of Concordia on my own.  While going to the school, when we first arrived in town, we passed a large  church.  I rode back to it and ventured inside not looking very churchy in my bike clothes, but curious to see what lay behind the unlocked door.  It was a very large Catholic church with many very beautiful, stained glass windows and was incredibly quiet.  If a pin were dropped I could have probably heard it, even with my poor hearing.  Above the entrance there was a large pipe organ, which judging from its appearance, was very old, but still majestic.  Churches like this fascinate me.  I have often gone into churches when the opportunity presented - partly for the architectual fascination, for the respect and love for the one for whom they were created – Jesus Christ, and sometimes to escape the rush of life outside.

I decided to ride back to the south end of town and take a picture of the convent.  After arriving at the corner facing the convent grounds, I was trying to decide how I could set my bike so I could get at least some proof in the picture that I had been here, when a woman walked by.  I saw an opportunity to get myself in the picture so asked if she could take my picture.  She took two and then told me she was a nun (Sister Christy) from the convent.  In our conversation I mentioned the convent looked interesting, so she told me where to go to get in.  She also said if anyone questioned what I was doing, to tell them Sister Christy said I could go on the grounds.  I cautiously rode up the same drive Mark and I had seen earlier in the day to behind the main building (motherhouse), found a shaded bench and sat down.  So far so good!  I was concerned someone would accost me and run me off, but no one seemed to notice anything amiss, so I began to relax and wrote several postcards.  Sister Christy had mentioned there was a flower garden and “Grotto” on the grounds so I decided to walk down and visit it.  Earlier, I had observed what I thought was the only type of nun there was – those dressed in a habit – walking down a flight of stairs and disappearing around a corner.  As I walked down the sidewalk toward the garden area I came upon the nun, whom I had seen earlier, watering some plants.  We struck up a conversation and she told me a lot about the convent and its history. She was a very sweet, little old lady about75.

After we finished talking I went on down to the garden area and the Grotto.  I then returned to where I had left my bike and rode back to the convent cemetery.  The cemetery, guarded on the north and south ends by tall cedar trees, was probably 2 acres in size. The first thought coming to mind when I first glimpsed it, was that it looked like a military cemetery.  Row after row of identical flat granite markers placed symmetrically with a simple inscription of the name and date on each one.  There are some 500 nuns buried here dating back from when it first started. In the center of the area there was a small mausoleum which appeared to have only one occupant.  The mausoleum was unique in that it had a large statue of Christ on the roof and a set of steps leading up to it. While I was there, another sister, whom I had seen earlier working in a vegetable garden, came back to see if I was looking for anyone in particular.  She told me a lot more about the convent and its history.  Upon mentioning Sister Christy’s name she said, she had been a nurse for many years and had returned to college to become a nurse practiconer.  She had just completed her schooling and was preparing for her boards after which she was going to return to south Mississippi, where she had worked for a number of years.  I enjoyed my visit there, but wished I would have known earlier they gave tours since it would have given an “inside view” of a convent.

Leaving there, I rode back downtown to find a place to eat.  A rule of thumb is to go where the bikes are – and it worked.  I found a place called Kristi’s, which was packed to the walls with cyclists.  I stood in line for some 10 minutes until a waitress told those waiting to just find a place to sit and we would be waited on shortly.  I sat with a father and daughter from Wichita.  He appeared to be in his 60’s and she was probably in her mid - 30’s.  We talked about the ride and what brought each of us on it.  She remineded me of a raccoon the way she was untanned around her eyes, from wearing her sunglasses.  They were from the “A” route which was also spending the night in Concordia.  Leaving there I met a rider from Overland Park on a long-wheelbase recumbent.  His ride started out very differently from probably any other BAK rider. He had gotten a ride to Lincoln, Nebraska (seems a little out of the way) and from there had ridden west through Nebraska, Colorado and then into Goodland.  By the time he started the BAK ride, there were already over 500 miles on his odometer!  Talk about wanting to ride!  When I talked to him he had 910 miles on his odometer and had been riding for the better part of 2 weeks.

I called it a day and went back to the school, took a shower and after 10:00 p.m. when they turned out the lights, went outside to write until I was sleepy enough to stay asleep before calling it a day.

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