III.

I woke up at an incredibly late afternoon. I went to sleep so early I ended up waking up shortly after darkness was falling. I didn’t know what to do, I felt so energized and well rested, but the campground was quiet and comfortable. I drank the energy drink I had bought at the gas station knowing I wasn’t going to be able to sleep. I pressed on, The weather was calm enough, the stars were out, I was ready to go.

I used a maglight, between my cheek and shoulder, to pack up my campsite. My nearly rustic brightly colored tent from a decade or two ago proved well, the sleeping bag was excellent. The gear I hardly trusted lasted the first day. Things seemed to be going better than planned, or at least maybe I assumed the worst. I strapped it all back to the bike and hit the road, It was cold, but bearable. I said goodbye to a campsite I had assumed would be awful, but was pleasantly isolated and free.

I had a destination set in the next few days. Someone I had met on the Internet Lived in Iowa, just across the boarder from Omaha. We met using a bootleg Xbox live service. I asked If I could stay there, and perhaps set up a tent in his yard. He agreed, though cautious. I’d head northeast of Omaha.

Crossing the great plains at night is wonderful. The Skies are sometimes clear enough to make out all the constellations you learned about in school. Id travel across Kansas and eventually cross into Nebraska. I remember being smug to myself remembering the particular highway numbers. There was a water crossing near the boarder. The wind was on my side these early days. The seemingly wonderful time I was making was going to me head, The wind was never a worry as it seemed to be on my side. Smoking a cigarette at the boarder, I noticed the wind finally, i began to worry as I would make a shift in my direction soon, headed directly east.

To stay with the wind I ended going farther north than I anticipated, adjusted my route. The sun would come up and Id find that I had made it pretty close to Omaha. Only a half a day from my friend. I pulled over to turn on my cellphone and to text him, to let him know a time frame in which i would be there. These windows would later prove to have no accuracy, and only lead to me apologizing for never arriving in a timely matter. The clouds would come back, but the pinholes of blue sky would keep you motivated. The green grass in contrast with the sky really showed you what springtime was all about. The endless number of shades of green of Iowa in the spring still fill my imagination.

The foggy, kinda rainy morning was nice, Though it was starting to ware on me that it was cold and muggy the whole trip thus far. The weather would soon become a constant condition on my mind, yet something that never affected me. Spring time, i guess. Some asshole was ridding my ass in a minivan while he was on the cell phone. He had miles and miles with so much space, but he followed me for 45 minutes flashing his lights and then slowing down in front of me once he got ahead. I’d assume he was mad at me, looking back I hope he was just trying to say hello and talk about scooters. First moment of road rage on the bike

I arrived in the town of my friend with great delight, I scoped a gas station and I think a taco bell waiting for my friend to get off work. I remember not being in a place where i wanted to eat fast food in my life. Resentful, hating it afterwards. These emotions come and go because I am an American and fast food is hard to say no too at our lowest points, and then I could justify anything with it being cold and wet outside. I couldn’t spend much money though, It was a luxury to have it. There was only room for one fast food trip and one motel in my budget along with the gas money to get there.

I met my friend and his family. It was wonderful. I had never met any of my online friends in that capacity before. We discussed our hobby of modifying video game consoles with each other. We shared with each other about our lives, the faceless voice i had met online became a real person right in front of me. I think that was a faith in humanity moment, neither of us were murderers or weirdos, It’s hard to trust people who get xbox live for free, it didn’t stop us. He graciously offered me a spot to sleep on a porch they had overlooking a beautiful Iowa meadow. It smelled like a spring rainstorm mixed with the neighbors grass trimmings. I don’t remember how long I slept, it was nice to not be sitting on a tiny motorcycle in a place I wouldn’t have to worry about it getting stolen.

Leaving the place later in the day to follow my now stupid night driving schedule, I would say goodbye around dinner time. Still a dreary day, I bundled up a little bit, because the night would only get colder. I’d head Northeast, remote Iowa, real Iowa where the Corn flows like wine.

Before the sun finally set I could see a storm on the horizon, but it looked to be going the other way, nothing of note. The roads were quite nice for the bike, I found great peace in the woods at night. Iowa seemed so welcoming, so friendly. I think its because the deer weren’t afraid of me when i passed by them. Iowa deer are tiny, like a cartoon bambi deer, with more mud and more parents. All over the roads at night, I saw them all coming. There was one however.

Briefly, I paced a deer on a windy hilltop road south of sac city, Iowa. The antler would tap my helmet one time, but it luckily broke away from me. It was really scary. The deer was bigger than the rest, in the middle of the road, and running very fast. It was a deer miscalculation if there ever was one, it was everything I had assumed deer in Iowa not to be.

At a gas station in a place that cannot be described in a word other than, “nowhere.” I noted it was calm, no drizzle, no wind. but no stars, No lights in the distance. Low, Thick clouds between me and heaven. I tried to call the storms bluff them. The attendant said I’d be fine. It’s truly hard to not take a locals incite about the weather. I bought gas and cigarettes.

Approaching sac city it was late, after midnight at least, and the weather was so bad I was afraid that I had made a terrible mistake. Bent up in an abandoned farm house chain smoking telling myself that I’m an idiot. The wind is taking down branches and throwing stuff all over the road, so I pull over. I’m in a terrible spot, and there’s a risk I’m just boned for the whole night. I had to convince myself that one of the motels in sack city had a smoking room, and this would be the one hotel room allowed in the budget. That the flooding on the roads will lighten up the closer you get to town, that the wind will shift and actually push me into town. It was a wet and wild ride to a closed gas station. It wasn’t gas I needed but the view. Across the street there was the a building with the largest ball of twine. A sight to behold and under the guise of a Turkish Royal. I made it, soaking wet, like a prune, and shaken from the road conditions, to the cutest motel that had presented itself on the far side of town. I opened the door and rang the bell once.

A woman answered, she seemed nice, pleasant to spend time in a home with, someone I absolutely trusted to run a small motel in western Iowa. I asked if she had any rooms, and that I was trying to avoid the storm for the night. It was $50 and I could sleep ’til noon. She thanked me for only ringing the bell once.

The room was quiet, compact, the furniture was a little too nursing home for my taste. I watched CNN on mute as the rain and wind blew my bike to smithereens in my head. The clouds I saw were the things of nightmares, It wasn’t until early morning that I ended up asleep.

That storm was really nothing in hindsight. That first year, that was the only thunder storm I had really encountered. It was my first storm, I chose a motel that day, and I didn’t regret it. I did regret leaving my atlas on the table.

When I had woken up I had put together that my schedule didn’t make sense any more. I was some how ahead, and behind, now right on track in a different spot. I was very OK with this idea, somehow throwing away bits and pieces of the plan I had spent so much time putting together made me feel better. Though, without an atlas, I was lost in Iowa for a while.

I listened to the mountain goats and enjoyed the wildflowers for two days making my way east. Some of the Highways would have minimum speed limits, the rural factor would increase tenfold through the detours.

I pioneered a technique that no other motor scooter excursionist had ever even attempted. When I would get gas, I would use the maps for sale in the gas station. I’d stare at them for like five minutes and try to figure out where I was headed. I only needed to know the range of my bike’s worth of information. This is how I got along when I was lost. Sometimes I would forget the turns, or perhaps be singing along to something on my Ipod.