Day 15

Today's episode is brought to you by the word "prairie", and also by the word "tan". Say them with me now. Prairie... Tan... Now, close your eyes and say them for 7 straight hours. And just like that, it's like you were *there* on Day 15 of the 2018 Prefrontal Tour! We started the day late due to some expected repairs, which gave time for the sun to rise above the horizon, then Wyoming gave way to Nebraska within the first hour and a stacatto arrangement of, well, browns. Aside from the grey pavement the fields are tan, the corn is tan, the tumbleweeds are tan, and even the sky is sometimes tan, colored with the chaff from dusty combines harvesting crops of "wuzzat" and "beetsmee". The "Welcome to Nebraska" sign proclaimed it to be the home of Arbor Day, but I couldn't decide if the utter lack of trees we'd seen so far lent urgency or incredulity to the statement. The bobbing oil wells also gave way to fracking sites, which appear to be much more involved, albeit more self-contained, yet equally unattractive. The invasive species of wind turbine is also prevalent here. When we pulled into Sidney for lunch we were surprised to see the tall water tower emblazoned with "Cabela's World Headquarters", next to a Cabela's store and several official-looking administrative buildings which were,... tan. We were surprised because we hadn't seen a discernable habitat for 100 miles, so where do the people live that work in the Cabela's and the small cluster of restaurants, hotels, and the compulsory Wal-Mart that comprise the map-dot of Sidney, Nebraska? We couldn't miss a visit to Cabela's and I felt lucky to score a clearance deal on a life-size set of replica moose antlers. When I got out to the bike I realized I had to return them, because they didn't match my paint scheme as I had hoped. Better luck next time. We soldiered eastward, still leaning right into the wind so much that the few times it abated and we could ride upright we felt like we were leaning to the left. We've taken to forecasts from the website "www.windy.com" until we can get somewhere with more terrain and trees. Sometime around 2 PM I noticed the flags weren't standing straight out from the poles anymore, and the riding was noticeably easier, even if no less exciting. The only real visual interest was provided by the scintillating corn fields to either side, each pair of rows opening to reveal the long, straight space between them as you approached, before closing just as quickly as you passed by. And there was another, and another,... We started seeing a lot of deer sleeping along the road, all of them big and some of them with healthy racks of antlers, sometimes arranged in small piles. I began to suspect they have the same flawed cross-training for deer here as in the southwest. One thing we haven't seen much of is other motorcycles, even in the warmer climes, and we haven't decided if that makes us extra crazy, or extra awesome? We lost another hour to time-zone voodoo coming into Paxton, then came to rest under a growing dusk in Lincoln and headed next door on the desk clerk's recommendation to "Luckie's Lounge" for a low-expectations meal. We were lucky that they were having a fundraiser, and we had a good meal and a couple of refreshing malt beverages for only $8. The real penance might have been listening to the charity karaoke event that was going on at the end of the room. We're 3-5 days away from the end of the tour, miles and weather allowing, and we need route suggestions based on a 400-500 mile radius per day and what the weather will look like Wed/Thu/Fri. Do we go high into Wisconsin and take the lake ferry, crossing Michigan? Do we go low back into Kentucky and come up via West Virginia? Do we slog it straight through the Windy City and the Mistake on the Lake? Your vote counts, so vote early and vote often! Onward and upward.


Popular posts from this blog

Day 6

Image
I was surprised to see the light peeking around the curtain, having passed the age a decade ago when a biochemical change makes you pop awake at 5 AM. Every day. Then a whiff of chlorine reminded me it was just the light from the swimming pool that our room overlooked, and it was still 5 AM, dark, and a very cold 32 degrees. But Day 6 of the 2018 Prefrontal Tour was a day to make up for lost time, and there was no more to lose. A Canadian invasion was underway to the north, a mass of frigid air 5 states wide with temps well below freezing. As that air mixed with the moist air to the south it would create high winds and torrential rains, and we intended to thread the needle and beat those conditions by skirting to the west just in time to miss the worst of it. Thanks to the support crew in the US and Europe who track our progress and run the weather models, we were able to stop briefly in St. Louis and then turn southwest toward Oklahoma City instead of continuing westward to Kansas. A
Read more

Day 11

Image
Day 11 of the 2018 Prefrontal Tour was to finish off the To-Do list and get headed back east. We packed and repacked the bikes, but in the end a couple things had to go - my plastic containers and black sneakers were ready for the dustbin anyway, and I had to toss them out for lack of space. Jim got a pretty cool photo of my bike before dawn, backlit by the hotel's accent lights, but truth be told the desert has put a shameful layer of grit on the old girl. We headed west out of Bakersfield, through that now familiar mixture of grapevines, fruit trees, and oil pumps. That part of California is such a strange mixture of heavy industry and food production! Everywhere it's fumes and dust, and in the process of harvesting the celery, cabbage and green onions they were packing them in cardboard boxes with gaping air holes, loading them on open trucks, and carting them through all of that mess to the processing facility. Another good reminder to wash my food! Part of the heaviest in
Read more

Day 5

Image
How to recount Day 5 of the Prefrontal Tour, dear reader, other than to relate the day's events to an experience you're all familiar with. You arrive at the airport, excited to be traveling on vacation. Your flight is delayed slightly, and then delayed again. After an indeterminate number of delays, your flight is finally cancelled, and you're left to your own devices on how to manage your possessions, lodging, dining, and hopefully an eventual arrival at your ultimate destination. And you're not allowed to know when "the machine" that is the airport might finally lurch back into motion and start moving people again. And so it was with the intrepid team today, as we received one missed deadline after another, and shuffled our possessions between the hotel and the dealer's waiting room. Our seeming high note came early when we walked next door to the Waffle House for a first-time breakfast (for Jim), and I told the waitress I'd have a combo with a coup
Read more