Sturgis or Bust

My last blog post was in 2012 when I rode from Lusby, MD to Laughlin, NV for the River Run.  I've now found myself en route to Sturgis for the motorcycle rally Mecca.  Not only is it THE BIG ONE, it's also the 75th anniversary, so it's probably going to be stupidly crowded.

"So it goes..."

Back in September or October of 2014, Phil asked me if I would be interested in tagging along with him and other members of his motorcycle club: the Desert Knights.  I'd previously gotten to meet a lot of them at Ocean City, MD bike week so of course I jumped at the chance; they are a bunch of cool guys.  This started the journey I know find myself in.

I will spare you the details of how I prepped for the trip, but since I still had a bunch of stuff from the last big ride, I didn't have to spend a lot getting things ready for the trip.  The difference now is that I have to bring an air mattress and sleeping bag.  These were NOT required for my cross-country trip.

After having a busy day right before I left for Sturgis, I was up late the night before and up at 0500 on the 29th.  It's now 11 at night here in Danville, Illinois.  After 746 miles so far today, I'm beyond tired.  Compared to my first day of the Laughlin trip, this one was a piece of cake.  (I was t-boned the first day of that trip).  It was pretty boring and the sights were mostly of farms or industrial areas, but I'll take that any day over getting hit by a car.

It's unfortunate that I forgot a few minor things, but I'm reminded to NEVER wear a white shirt when out on the road: it turns brown from road grime.  I also applied sunscreen only twice.  I should have applied it each time we stopped.  My arms and neck are now burned and this obviously isn't too comfortable.

Anyway, not much more to discuss after an uneventful day.  Guess tomorrow could be more of the same.

Do you know the way to Santa Fe? Extra day NOT on the road.

Sunday, April 23rd

So, even though I didn't sleep in late, I was still thankful that I didn't have to hop on the bike and travel another 500+ miles quite yet.  I woke to Kyle and Alan having brought breakfast from a local fast food joint named, "Twisterz."  I took one bite out of the breakfast burrito and immediately my mouth was on fire.  Green chile for breakfast:  it's gonna be an interesting day.

Alan and Beth decided that they would take Kyle and I into Santa Fe and let us see what a neat little town it is.  Kyle also decided that we would NOT take the bikes, we would sit in the nice air conditioning and let someone else drive as our ears were still ringing for the hours of exposure to the Harley exhaust.  Part of me wanted to take the bike, but in the end...someone else driving was probably a very good thing.

Santa Fe was a lot smaller than I had pictured it.  I rode through the area about 10 years ago when I went to Philmont for 2 weeks of camping and hiking, but I didn't get to take in the sights and sounds like I was doing this day.  The first thing I noticed was the older construction of the buildings in this part of town and was reminded of Annapolis, but with a southwestern style.  The state government buildings were very small and located amongst the old buildings.  We first ended up in an artsy outdoor market where people were selling various trinkets and tourists of course were eating it all up.  Personally, I'm not much into art, so it was a little boring to me, but thankfully, there were still plenty of other things to keep my inattention fueled...a small paradise for a guy with attention problems.

Turns out, this is also a place for the "free-spirited."  Allowing me to stereotype:  I figured pot and 'shrooms were rampant as well as song and dance sessions where people like me would immediately think, "What. The. Fuck?!"  Oh well...they live a life I can't and I'm sure it's fun.  Along with the hippies, I also notice a lot of what appear to be homeless people, complete with the schizophrenics and those just down on their luck.  Some ask for money, some just stare with their blank faces while another guy was just chilling with his two dogs and his massive backpack.

After walking around, we find a restaurant with a view of a local park.  While sitting on the 2nd floor balcony watching the people below, a Santa Fe Fire Department engine rolls up and Kyle and I immediately say to Alan and Beth that they are there to people watch.  Sure enough, they sat there for about 25 minutes just speaking with people and watching women...some things are just universal throughout the fire department everywhere.  With that being said, we watched another engine and ladder truck do the same thing, except they just drove the area, they didn't get out and sit.  This made for entertainment for those of us who knew what was really going on.

After grabbing lunch at the atomic grill, it was time to head out.  Alan decided to take us along the turquoise trail and show us the town of Madrid, NM (the town from the movie, Wild Hogs) where there were actually a ton of motorcycles, cars, and pedestrians.  After driving through the town, we ended up at the summit of a mountain that had amazing views of the surrounding area located in the Cibola National Forest.  This being Kyle's first experience on a real mountain, he was pretty blown away by how far up he was and the kind of views available.  After doing this, we proceeded down what Alan liked to call the "Death Road."  It was an unimproved road that consisted of dirt and gravel and twisted and turned down the mountain where views of the mountain sides were plentiful and so were views of many people that stop alongside it for picnics and such.  This road also turned out to be one that I had previously started to go up when  I was last in Albuquerque and wanted to go venturing, but didn't have the cajones to take my rental car up it.  At least I now know where it leads to.

The day went by way too quickly, and we knew that tomorrow was the start of our last leg of the journey:  Bullhead City, AZ.  Alan and Beth cooked some steaks on the grill and we had a very good meal to get us ready for the next day.  The realization was also there that we weren't even close to being half-way done our trip, but with that come more stories.  It had been interesting already, makes a guy wonder what more might be in store.  For that, we shall see...

Westward, HO! Joplin to Albuquerque.

Well, go figure that both of us woke early in Joplin.  With the time changes and the fact we were in a strange place, neither of us slept very long.  So...it was time to get the show on the road.  After getting everything packed, we get the "free" continental breakfast.  The area for the breakfast consists of a counter with some food on it and about 10 chairs total: 2 small round tables and two small sofa-like seating arrangements around a small TV.  There were about 10 people when we got there...30 when we left.

Kyle quickly asks some guy if we can sit at his table with him as he's putting down his plate and wasn't going to take a "no" for an answer anyway...guy immediately gets up and leaves.  While seated at the table and digging in, two older gentlemen sit down at the table with us and start asking us about our journey.  Kyle is very loudly telling them about our missteps and "killing a dog."  The old men are staring incredulously at us while the old ladies at the table across the small outcropping are often glancing in our direction...no doubt judging us.  Fuck it...I don't care...let them judge.  Turned out, they (a church group consisting of the old men and women) were returning from somewhere south where they had been rebuilding another church.  I can only imagine how that went...

While the old ladies didn't say anything to us, many others saw us getting our bikes ready and wiping ICE off of our bikes.  Well, really it was only Kyle's seat that had ice on it...mine was just wet.  Several guys saw us and would wish us well and tell us, "safe ride!"  It was reassuring to know that plenty people out there thought it was cool and their adventurous sides had some envy showing.

Now started the part of the trip a lot of people warned us about: a whole lot of nothing to look at.  As we entered Oklahoma...the smells returned, but with a vengeance.  Just when I thought it couldn't smell worse, I was proven horribly wrong.  Cattle was everywhere...and lasted as far as the eye could see and the nose could smell.  We passed through Indian land and discovered that there were tolls.  Great.  Tolls.  It's no easy feat to get money out when you have gloves on, especially when on a motorcycle.  While at one of the tolls, Kyle noticed a truckload of cattle next to us and loudly yelled to the cows, "MOOO!  You're going to be in my belly later!  MOOO!  I'm wearing your cousin!"  Way to go Kyle...karma has a way of coming back around...

We make it through Tulsa with no problems and end up in Oklahoma City.  I hadn't realized it, but Kyle points out that we could easily go to the Oklahoma City bombing memorial.  With this knowledge, we find the exit ramp and get off the interstate.  While at a light, Kyle professes to me that he really, really has to pee.  Well, remember Karma?  Yeah, it was a bumpy ass road at higher speeds that made the bladder feel really, really uncomfortable.  This is the same guy that chastised me for taking a bathroom break each time we stopped for fuel.

The memorial itself was very humbling.  Such a large building...though it definitely pales in comparison to the trade center.  I remember vividly as a kid in the 6th grade watching the news coverage.  I didn't realize at that age the seriousness of what was occurring.  In various classes, I've learned about the bombing, but never was I able to put picture to words prior to actually visiting the site.  The most moving part were the chairs neatly arranged in a grassy area of the memorial.  There were large chairs, but interspersed between the large chairs were the occasional small ones.  These were the kids.  This immediately brought back to memory of the photo of the fireman from Oklahoma City carrying out the dead, mangled child and the fact there was a daycare involved.  The other part of the memorial that struck at the nerves was the chain link fence that still had memorial items on it.  Tons of pictures of kids, families and various trinkets to commemorate the loss of loved ones.  There was a museum we could have checked out, but we were kind of pressed for time and weren't about to shell out 12 bucks to take a quick look.

After the memorial, Kyle said we should find stop for lunch, he was sure there was somewhere to eat downtown, though both of us were very surprised at how different the DC downtown was from OKC.  Traffic was very light and guess what?  It was noon and the tornado siren went off for 3 minutes straight.  It was loud, it was noticeable, and it was long.  If someone who is able to hear can't hear that...there's issues.  If you're in your car with the windows up and you don't hear/feel it...you need to not listen to your music so loud because that siren will override just about any other noise you can listen to.  Holy crap...it was loud.

Well, who would have thought: there was nowhere Kyle could find for lunch.  We ended up instead fueling up and going to a sonic across the street and right by the interstate.  While fueling up, I went to zero out my "Trip A" on my bike...well...I accidentally zeroed out my "Trip B."  I now had no idea exactly how many miles I had put on my bike because my dumbass forgot to record my starting mileage.  Argh.  Well, at sonic, we must have witnessed about 50-60 harleys at several different times ride past us.  They were out for leisurely rides whereas ours wasn't all that leisurely, but we did have to get back on the road, it was still a long way to Albuquerque.

Once again, going through Oklahoma, it was amazing at just how much nothingness there is.  At one point, I was fighting falling asleep on the bike, which is never good.  5 hour energy drinks and sunflower seeds helped take care of that, but I'll reiterate that it sucks that it's very hard to drink anything while on a bike when there isn't a cup holder and no easily accessible bathroom.

Once we got to texas, there was still a whole lot of nothing going on, but the one noticeable thing was the fact that the bugs were HUGE!  I must have hit so many bugs with my bike and body...every color imaginable was on my fairing and windshield as well as on my lower fairings.  It was ridiculous.  When we got to Amarillo, we saw the huge stockyards and many stores, but there still wasn't much going on.  Past Amarillo was where we were elevated a few feet up off the rest of the county and could literally see for miles.  There were tons of wind farms and really, really flat land.  This stayed pretty constant as we approached New Mexico.

At one of our fuel stops, we ended up stopping at a gas station area with a bunch of old, abandoned gas stations that had been along route 66.  I could envision what it must have been like before the interstates.  Sure, I suppose the idea had been romanticized, but in reality, thank god for the interstates.

Upon reaching New Mexico, the landscape started to drastically change.  Mountains and various other rock-filled formations were becoming visible in the distance with miles of straight, open road lay ahead.  These roads were straight for probably upward of 30 miles with absolutely nothing along the edges.  We also then encountered the sun.  The sun had been above us or behind us for the majority of the day.  Now...it was in front of us...and shining in our faces with ferocity that most wouldn't realize.  In a car, at least you have a  sun visor.  On a bike...you have glasses.  For the entire way to Albuquerque, the sun was beating down and making for a rough ride.  The further west we went, the longer the sun was in the sky.  Yes, we weren't necessarily chasing daylight, but we were following it at a good clip, so of course it stayed up in the sky longer.

Finally, as dusk was coming, we reached Albuquerque, but we still had a few more miles to go.  Turns out, we were actually going to stay with a childhood friend of Kyle's who lives in Rio Rancho.  The first thing I noticed was that as soon as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, it got cold...really cold.  The problem was, since we were driving through mountains, the sun wasn't quite set, but there also weren't any real pull offs to put a coat on...and we just wanted to get to Alan's house.  The other thing that I noticed was that the drivers there were absolutely horrible.  We constantly got cut off and others would try and drive in the lane next to us...even more reason to rush to get to Alan's house.

Getting off the interstate, the sun had fully set behind some other mountains and it started getting dark quickly.  Of course, I had my sunglasses on and no chance to change into clear ones.  The journey from the interstate to Rio Rancho was another 15 or 20 minutes I think, but probably one of the longest 15-20 minutes I had experienced in quite awhile.  I assure you, arriving at Alan's house was by far the best feeling on the trip thus far.  I met Alan and his wife who were both really cool people, which once again asserted that Kyle is a dick...his friends and family seem to be the opposites.

Upon getting to Alan's house, I see a typical desert-style house, but it was absolutely gorgeous.  I envied the open floor plan and started shaking my head at the thought of my own house.  Upon getting settled in and getting the pleasantries done, it was time to get down to business:  what the hell to eat for dinner.  After some debate, Alan decided to go to a local pub that served typical american-style food but also served the desert southwest style food.  Of course I had to get a local craft beer and a pizza that had a ton of crap on it, but most importantly green chile.  The moment I bit into my pizza, my gastrointestinal tract immediately said, "Fuck you...you're gonna pay now."  Oh well, the food was good and was great for my sinuses which have been plagued by the horrible allergy season this year.

After zero debate, it was decided that we were going to spend the next day (sunday) hanging out with Alan and his wife in Albuquerque and seeing the sights.  I was all for it and Kyle was sure as hell glad to not to have to get on the bike for a day...both of us had the sound of motorcycle pipes embedded into our ears.  Rest was definitely needed...and Alan and his wife were really cool and funny, so it was nice to not have to  worry about getting on the road at any particular time the next day.

Turns out, Albuquerque is a pretty cool town and Santa Fe is full of hippies, but that's a story for later.

Let me assure you, rain sucks on a motorcycle

So, on the second day of the trip, we wake early in Wheelersburg and get everything ready.  After an awesome breakfast, it's on the road we go.  Rechecking weather reports, it shows there's a storm moving across the midwest, but no city we check shows there being any storms.  I've already had the weather channel app screw me over once before, but I try and remain optimistic.

We made our way into Kentucky and it wasn't anything like I had pictured.  It smelled better than Ohio, but the wind was ridiculous.  Turns out, this part of Kentucky wasn't gently rolling hills: it was rocky, mountainous, and did I mention windy?  Turns out, Kentucky is a long state.  We follow the northern Kentucky border and continuously make our way west.  Our speed was quick, but sure as hell felt like we weren't making any progress.  The sun was up and the temperatures weren't all that bad.  The more west we got, the smellier it once again became.  Lexington and Louisville were a lot bigger than I realized.

Upon entering Indiana and Illinois, the song from Jason Aldean, Flyover States brought sight to sound.  These were some backwood areas that smelled even worse.  I had no idea that the breadbasket of America smelled so bad, but I suppose that makes sense since I saw thousands of cattle.  It would be even worse the next day.

While getting more westerly in our travels for the day, the sky got progressively darker and cloudy.  Upon looking at the weather channel app, the maps showed a line of storms moving our way and it appeared pretty slow.  This was kind of hard to update at times due to poor cell reception but I knew it meant rain.  Moving at a rapid speed on I-64, we kept trying to push closer and closer to St. Louis before being overtaken by rain.  While continuously checking the app, I decide not to gamble any further and we stop in Burnt Prairie, IL.  There is a gas station by the name of, "Chuckwagon Charlies."  We decide to stop in, have lunch, fill the bikes, put rain gear on and hope that the storm passes over.  Well, their lunch menu wasn't much, but they did have some seating, so we sit and wait.  Go figure that we sit there for 30 minutes and no rain comes.  With the terrible cell service, the map was unreliable, so we decide to put the rain gear on and go for it.  Well...Kyle said let's go for it, I was very, very hesitant.  I rode in driving rain once, I definitely didn't want to do it again.

So, we put rain gear on and Kyle lead the way.  We pull out of the gas station and head toward the interstate and already the rain the bare parts of my face was stinging and my visibility was terrible.  As I'm wiping my face I watch Kyle lay his bike down as he went to get onto the ramp to get on the interstate.  I watch him try to keep it up, but it ends up on it's right side and drags him about 20 feet.  I quickly pull up and get my bike out of the street and go to see if he's ok.  At this point he's cussing at his bike and incredibly pissed.  We pick the bike up and damage is found all along the right side on his fairing, engine guard and rear saddlebag.  Not a good sign for getting on the interstate and having to deal with cars and tractor trailers moving at 70+ mph speeds and kicking up all sorts of wind and water.  At this point we head back to the gas station to regroup our thoughts.  Upon pulling into the gas station which was only 1000 feet away, Kyle's bike almost comes out from under him again.

After assessing damage, Kyle suggests that we go into the town of Mill Shoals, IL and find something to do to pass time.  We head that way and discover that there is absolutely NOTHING to do in this town.  We pull onto the front ramp of the local firehouse and discuss our options.  We decide to press on toward Fairfield, IL and see if the weather improves.  Well, we get there, riding through rain, completely rain-geared up and it's still raining so we press on westbound state road 15.  Finally, upon getting to Mount Vernon, IL, the rain subsides and the decision is made to get back onto the interstate and get to St. Louis as quickly as possible.

Of course, we arrive to St. Louis during rush hour and it still looked as if the sky were going to open up any moment, but we wanted to get the hell away from it.  As much as I wanted to stop at the St. Louis arch and look around, I knew we wouldn't make our goal of Joplin, MO by that night if we stopped.  Somewhere west of St. Louis we stopped for fuel and decided that it was getting really, really cold outside.  Turns out, the Harley Davidson rain gear that Kyle bought (the most expensive model) didn't keep his pants dry.  He was soaked.  Me?  Well, not to brag, but my Frogg Toggs that a buddy of mine suggested actually worked very, very well.  He was actually shivering, so I told him he really should change into a dry pair of jeans, but words were something along the lines of, "FUCK!  I just want to get a move on!  Fuck this!"  I got the chaps, long sleeved shirt, snake skin hood and even put the rain gear on for added wind resistance (don't think it helped) and gloves and we started moving.

Moving once again at high speeds, we covered a lot of ground very quickly, but the sky kept getting darker, but this time it was from the sun setting.  The ONE good thing was that we could actually see the sun; problem was, it was setting.  We made a last stop in Springfield, MO and decided it was on to Joplin.  Upon getting back onto the interstate, I could hear Kyle loudly exclaim, "Holy Shit!  Is that an armadillo!  It's a dead armadillo!  Holy shit!"  It was evident that he'd never seen one before.

Finally, as the sun had set and it got really, really cold, we made it to Joplin.  I pull into the first Best Western I see and make sure they have a room available.  The girls at the front dest were looking at me fully decked out in rain gear and leathers with a disheveled head of hair and were definitely not sure of what to think.  In short, I got the room and upon getting to it, Kyle was shivering violently.  "Dumbass," was the first words out of my mouth, but oh well, not my issue.

After dinner, I immediately passed out because after 770 miles on a bike, I knew the next day was going to be worse since it would be ANOTHER 770 miles.  Remember, this is a cross county motorcycle adventure, not a vacation, right?

Picking up the "other" rider

So, the morning of April 19th was absolutely gorgeous.  Slightly chilly on the bike, but it was sunny and the roads were dry.  I woke up refreshed, got the bike ready and headed from the firehouse to Kyle's house where we would meet and head to Wheelersburg, Ohio where his parents live and we get a free, nice place to stay along our long trip.  I arrive to find Kyle still in a frenzy getting all of his stuff ready.  His anxiety is very evident as he immediately starts directing his ire my way.  This becomes quickly fixed by then finding fault with his shortcomings and directing attention at him.  He packed like a woman (no offense ladies).  He had 2 massive bags packed to the brim with tons of clothes and his saddlebags were also completely taken up with his shit.  In the end, due to his thundermax tuner possibly needing adjusting, he had to bring along his 17" gateway laptop computer.  Guess who had to pack this on his bike?  Yep...yours truly.  Later on, however, I would have to borrow a pair of ankle socks, so believe me, he thinks he's vindicated.

After double-checking our inventories and making sure everything was squared away, it was time to get moving.  His roommates made sure to send us off with all the love they could muster: lots of sarcasm and jokes.  The first stop was to go to the gas station, top off and head out.  At this point, we're in Fairfax County, VA and I'm not too familiar with where we're headed, so Kyle leads the way.  As we're on route 50 headed west, a car pulls right out in my lane without stopping and I ended up swerving and clipping his bumper.  2.2 miles away from Kyle's house.  UNBELIEVABLE!

I manage to keep upright somehow and move into the parking lot bordering the intersection where I got hit.  I knew I had damage to my bike, but at that moment, I didn't know how much.  Of course I'm thinking it's going to be horrible and I won't be able to continue to the trip.  Kyle heard me honk my horn and heard me on our bluetooth yell, "FUCK," or other choice words.  (Hey, can you blame me?)  When I got off my bike I found my lower right front fairing, engine guard, highway peg, rear engine guard and rear right saddle bag all damaged.  There was an actual chunk missing out of the saddlebag.  Needless to say, I wasn't happy.  The driver gets out of the car and I try talking to him...he stared at me blankly.  Luckily, there were cops already in the intersection, so they immediately came over and started the process of exchanging information.  Good news:  the driver was insured.  Bad news:  he spoke very little english so it was very hard to communicate.  I decide that I'll just wait for other police to show up and I'll let them handle it.

The cop that showed up was pretty cool, he understood perfectly was happened and conveyed that it was definitely the other driver's fault.  I was cool with this, especially since I didn't really get too hurt minus the cut and friction burns on my legs from the collision.  I have no idea how I managed to stay up, but I'm sure glad I did.  We were way-layed by an hour, but then it was time to start off again, making sure to call the girlfriend and assure her that I was fine.  I was met with an "ok," indicating that she was very worried but didn't want to let me know.  I knew.

We decided to take a way to Ohio that took us through the mountains of West Virginia that would run us through the George Washington National Forest, Dolly Sods, and numerous podunk towns that no one has ever really heard of.  This was my first experience with twisty, windy mountain roads.  Wow, it was definitely an interesting experience, especially when confronted with tractor trailers that would take up much of their lane and a bit of mine.  This was my first experience going through Huntington, WV.  I never really fathomed how large and industrial that city is, but I got to see the picturesque views offered by the interstate of all the warehouses, factories, refineries and the ridiculously shitty interstate that took us through it.  Kyle advised that at least 20 miles of this interstate was like this and I should really try and avoid the potholes.

We exited the interstate at the exit for Ironton, crossed over a bridge and I could immediately smell the city of Ohio.  I did not get the same reaction that Robert Duvall's character had in Full Metal Jacket.  Napalm would have smelled better.

Sure enough, as we're passing one of the local Wal-Marts, I look over and see a lady lean out of the window of a gold SUV and whistle very, very loud and start waving at Kyle very enthusiastically.  I key up the bluetooth headset and say, "Wow, who was that?  That was quite a welcoming, must be a small town."  His response: "My mother."  First thought that came to my mind:  what a nice lady.  Second thought:  what a coincidence; this must be a small town.

After sitting through some traffic, a few glimpses of the Ohio river, and numerous closed stores, shops, etc., we end up at his parents' house.  A bunch of highly-populated windy roads took us to a nice, quiet  neighborhood.  Greeted by his dad, sister, and niece, we were glad to be off the bikes.  476+ miles down and plenty more to go, but I know I could feel the trip starting to have effects on my body.  The other thing was that I finally understood why everyone thinks Kyle is a dick:  his parents and rest of his family are incredibly nice, whereas, he is not.  Guess someone has to be the oddball.

We wash the many colors of bugs off the fronts of the bike, share stories, and head to dinner at some place called "Freds."  From there, we went and visited some of his friends and headed to a bar called, "The Fish Bowl," where it was bike night.  Upon arriving, I realize I'm going to have to park my big ass bike with an audience.  The ENTIRE outside crowd watched as we pulled up.  Kyle effortlessly parked his street glide.  Me: well, not so much.  It took considerable effort considering I'm still not able to touch the ground completely with both feet, even with it lowered.  It's all because of my massive seat that I bought for the trip.  I end up parking it, with a little advice from a guy at the bar and head in.  I'm greeted with a bunch of individuals all in Harley t-shirts, facial hair, and sheer blue-collar attitudes.  I definitely didn't belong.  Well, we get a bucket of miller-lite and chill.  No one talked to us, I checked in with the girlfriend and went back out to the outside deck.  While standing there, we witnessed a girl ask a guy if he wanted to go smoke some pot.  They then disappeared around to the side of the building and the smell of ganja then filled the air.  Ah...another smell to add to the queue.  After they smoked whatever it was they smoked (yeah, right), they came back to the deck and debated on the legal uses of pot.

Upon leaving, we headed down some dark roads to head back to his house and sure enough, 3 doors down from his house while behind another car, I witnessed a large dog come from the shadows of a house on the right and bark furiously at the car and Kyle's bike, but it stopped...presumably at the invisible fence line.  While watching this unfold, I then witness another dog come from the left...not stopping at an invisible fence line.  The dog chased the car and of course wasn't able to keep up and was clipped by Kyle's bike.  The dog sustains a head injury and is in the middle of the street trying to get up and barking and whining at anything and everything.  Thankfully, I was far enough behind to where I missed the dog and we both turned around to go find the owner.  I wanted to get the hell out of there because I knew there was another dog, but Kyle made sure he went and told the owner.  At the time, i didn't realize just how close we were to his parents' house.  When I turned around, I saw the dog still laying in the road, this time not moving.  I park the bike in the middle of the street to make sure no one else hits it and I walk up to where Kyle is telling the owner about what happened.  As the owner approaches, the dog hears her voice and immediately pops up as if nothing happened and forlornly walked over, blood still dripping from it's nose.  We recommend to the lady that she may want to go to a vet if one is open, but she dismisses it.  I then watch the dog attempt to sit but instead just about falls over...sure sign of head injury, at least in a human.  After the owner making sure we were ok, we head back to the bikes and put them up for the evening: we have a long trip ahead the next day.  We were going to shoot for making it to Joplin, MO.  It's going to be about a 770 mile trip...not easy.  With that, we head to our respective rooms after chatting with his parents and rest up for the next day.

 My poor saddlebag

 The front of the car.  It's missing it's driver's side headlight, the grille, and a part of the bumper.

Kyle's bags

The trip...

Yep, started my trip the afternoon of April 18.  I left the house, not without stalling out in my driveway of course.  I had a late start due to a doctor's appointment and getting all of my laundry done.  My plan was to leave and head to the Dunkirk VFD and then head to Kyle's house in Fairfax.  Well, made it to Dunkirk, had a nice dinner with the girlfriend, but with the weather, I stayed at Dunkirk for the night.   I figured it'd be a better idea to not deal with rain AND dark along the beltway.  With events unfolding the next day, it was probably a good idea.

In all, I ended up packing enough to have a light load but having everything I needed to last a few days, but I would definitely have to do laundry along the way.  We did some planning for the trip, but I think most of it was just going to be done by shooting from the hip.  Let the wind carry us along and do whatever the heck we wanted.  Well, we'd soon find out how all this went down.