We’ve not seen a town quite like Lawrence before. It’s a small city of 80,000 people (plus students, I guess) that’s set up like a small town, with lots of vintage houses and a happy, thriving Main Street. Except instead of a one or two block Main Street, it goes on for seven or eight. And all the neighboring old houses (circa early-1900s) are fixed up and freshly painted, but without the icky, artificial Chemlawns that usually go hand-in-hand with that. They’re reasonably priced, too. It all comes off with a genuine, real-people feel. The cars parked at the houses follow suit—nothing fancy and far from new. Some of the streets remain cobbled, there’s free two-hour parking at the public garage and… get this… everyone waits for the walk sign to cross the street—even if no cars are coming! Unheard of, I know, but I speak the truth.

It seemed like all of Kansas was on fire with all the burning we witnessed. It was obviously prescribed, but I’m not sure of the reasoning since it included fields, parks and roadside. Even the state park we stayed at was on fire. I won’t carry on about the miserable, overpriced state parks here, but let me just say that I wouldn’t have minded if a couple of the neighboring campers had gone up in smoke. Not that we had anything against them personally, it was just their trashy sites that were a menace. There was a serious look of permanence to the sites cluttered by such things as a disheveled boat, an old mattress, a soiled couch and three junk cars. Despite the “No stays longer than 14 days” sign, methinks otherwise.

Being big fans of the Gunsmoke radio show, Holly and I looked forward to seeing Dodge City in the flesh. During the town’s heyday in the 1800s, it was one of the wildest towns on the frontier. It was a stopover on the Santa Fe Trail (the wagon ruts are still visible just west of town) and quickly became the undisputed capitol of buffalo-hunting and cattle-driving. At this time Dodge City became famous for its gunfights and lawlessness, earning it the nickname “Wickedest Little City in America.” Front Street was a big stage for the mayhem and held one saloon for every 20 citizens. Unfortunately, none of the personality or establishments from that era remains and the town has become outdated and depressing. We poked around the streets for a little while, and then got the hell out of Dodge.