Cutting through Southern Colorado on the second to last leg of the journey, we head for Kansas and it’s western border. Like the rest of the central plains states, the land is terrifically flat, and foliage limited to about six inches off the ground. A gentle swoop in the earth passes back and forth across the countryside, a constant uninterrupted line of telephone poles hug the road on either side. The grass transitions from a dry yellow to a mild green as farms appear on the horizon, patches of cattle splattered across the prairie. The sky is streaked with with massive hazy clouds, just enough to make it look as though someone had tried to smudge out the blue, but wasn’t very accomplished in the task. Only eight more hours to Kansas City. More updates to come.