Tamu and I spent the night outside Wichita, catching up on laundry and television. We headed into the city not knowing what to do or expect in Kansas’ largest city. The travel guide I had been using to organize the trip offered very little by way of direction, so we headed toward Old Town because it had seemed interesting when we passed through town the day before looking for a hotel. It seemed as good a place as any to walk Tamu. As luck would have it, we arrived on a Saturday morning while the Farmers’ Market was in full swing. The area was full of produce and craft vendors and shoppers that 
morning, and also offered live musical accompaniment from Knocknashsheega, a talented local band specializing in Celtic music. Tamu and I wandered the stalls, taking in the music and talking to some of the regulars.
One of them suggested that I head over toward Old Town Square, which offers more shops and the old theater, so Tamu and I headed a few blocks away. Along the way, the town offered some creative touches and friendly people. When I arrived at the square, a political rally was happening. 
Given the divisiveness of politics in 2016, I was not sure what I was walking into. But instead of people all shouting at each other, the rally in support of politically liberal causes was happening in peace, no counter-protests or civic animosity at all. I was relieved and a little surprised. Most of the campaign or political signs I had seen so far in my Kansas travels had been moderately to extremely conservative, supporting what I assumed about Kansas politics. Yet the liberal rally was well attended and, more importantly, without rancor.
After collecting some admirers, Tamu walked me back toward the Farmer’s Market. I declined a shouted invitation to stay for an evening concert. The pleasantness of morning began to turn the heat of the day, so Tamu became tired and thirsty. I wish now we had made a better plan of sites to see, as Wichita turned out to be really pleasant. In fact, it reminded me of my hometown a bit, only it seemed to have more life in the downtown. We needed some air conditioning, so we skipped the Water Walk along the Arkansas River, and headed toward the Delano District to see if I
could plan our next steps with cool drinks for us both. Once we got there, however, I realized that it was too hot for another meal in the sun, and I decided to head out as I wanted to make a stop in southeastern Kansas before visiting a few things in the Kansas City area. I hope I get back to Wichita again and can truly explore.
Tamu and I headed out for Independence to visit the Little House on the Prairie Museum. It turned out to be a good thing that Tamu and I gave ourselves extra time to get there because my navigation device got us hopelessly lost trying to find the country road where it sits, and we had to travel a bit to get a cell phone signal to call and get directions from the museum itself. Of course, we were also low on gas. Sigh. Once we arrived, both the dog and I were made welcome. The guides–finding a Laura Ingalls Wilder fan in me (why else would I keep searching on rural roads in the middle of a hot day?)–enthusiastically explained that the site was 
home to the Ingalls family during a part of their history that does not appear in the books. The family squatted on the site in the late 1860’s when Laura was three, according to census records. Under the Homestead Act, the family could have farmed 160 acres of land and eventually claimed it as personal property, but Pa had set up on Osage land, so he could make no claim. Eventually, some family land back in Wisconsin became available, so the family moved back there, which is where the first book in the series, Little House in the Big Woods, takes place when Laura is five or six.
Not as much a fan of the books, Tamu stayed in the air conditioned store with his new admirers while I poked around the lot. The owners of the property accidentally discovered the connection to the author when historians were trying to find birth records for Carrie Ingalls, so they reconstructed a cabin
there and arranged for the old schoolhouse and post office to be moved out to the area. I finished my walk about and returned to the shop to buy Pioneer Girl, which is a recently-published, annotated version of Laura’s original manuscript, the memoir that was not intended as a child’s adventure story. I had long wanted a copy, and this seemed like the perfect place to buy it. The guides practically cheered.
They considered offering Tamu a full-time gig as a greeter, but I wanted to press on and see some sites around Kansas City before settling down for the night. My trip was starting to wind down and, as usual, I was trying to fit in as much as I could. We headed next to Osawatomee to see the John Brown Museum State Historic Site, which commemorates the largest battle of the Bleeding Kansas era, when John Brown’s forces fought a pro-slavery militia in August 1856. We arrived at the state park minutes after the little 
museum/cabin closed. This was disappointing because this part of US history is not terribly familiar to me, but Tamu and I made the best of it, taking in the park and 
its markers. Fortunately, those were pretty good at explaining the era and the battle, which cost Brown a son and resulted in pro-slavery forces looting the town. Tamu and I walked the battlefield learning as much as we could,while a family nearby put out provisions for a family picnic in the nearby shelter. I kept the dog on his leash so he would not try to get himself adopted.
We had come to the town just to see the battle site, and headed from the small town toward the Shawnee Indian Mission State Historic Site, formerly a mission school founded in 1839 to provide native American children–primarily Shawnee–with skills and an education. I knew the school would likely be closed by the time we arrived, and it was. We wandered around the grounds, situated in Fairway, a pleasant town in what is now suburban Kansas City, hoping to get a peek into the school’s history. I wished I had not been lost earlier in the day because the site would not be open the next day, so there was no opportunity to visit it. This was disappointing because I was eager to hear something about Native American history in the area. It too is on my list when I get back to Kansas City.
The next day would be our last in Kansas, so I had to pick my priorities for the rest of my stay. There was loads to see and do in Kansas City, but when traveling for this project, I tend to prioritize smaller places because they are harder to return to. I may have a reason to travel to Kansas City for work one day, and so will have the opportunity to visit its attractions. Also, I don’t like being a stranger in a bit city. I decided instead to make my way to Holy-Field Winery in Basehor where I hoped to strategize and, perhaps, get some local advice for planning my last night and day in Kansas. Unfortunately, it too was closed when I arrived, and I did not see any hotels where we could stay. I headed next to Leavenworth, as I hoped to visit its sites first thing the next morning. It was beginning to get dark, and there was very limited hotel space in Leavenworth–and generally an unwelcome feeling. For a minute, it seemed as if Tamu and I might have to cross into Missouri to stay nearby, but we eventually found a place for our last Kansas night.