I allowed myself to sleep in today, all the way to 5:30am. The weather was predicting a high of only 81, very manageable even if there are lots of hills. I thought last night was going to be a repeat of the night before in the grasslands. Just as I got my tent set up beneath the pavilion outside of the Wright welcome center, a dark, swirling mass of clouds moved in.
A few low rumbles and some some puny gusts of wind were all the sky had though. I slept easy. It was strange waking up to an already brightening sky. I'm used to dawning the headlamp before I'm even out of the tent but, I guess I'm taking it easy today. And so did Mother Nature. Barely any winds with blue skies and the big white clouds you find in Van Gogh paintings above the cypress trees. I've been sitting in this truck stop convenience store for a while, letting my phone charge.
It doesn't seem like there's much else to see in Midwest but, I'll find out shortly. The biker traffic is still going on so there's lots of folks in jeans and bandanas, tons of leather and beards and ponytails and naturally, tattoos. I don't talk to many of them, maybe they can't see me because my bike doesn't make any noise. I rode past a bike in the Badlands and he lifted his feet up to make pedaling motions. I didn't know if he was mocking me but I didn't really care anyway. I've just been sitting here reading. I'm finally reading "On the Road".
I've never been able to get into it but I'm guessing that's because I've never been on the road before. Sal Paradise is in Frisco bow as he calls it, working as a special policeman at the barracks, not having the guts to lay down the law, I can't blame him. Meanwhile, people are filling up their 64 oz. cups with soda, or pop, as they call it. I don't think I've seen anyone drink water since I left Pennsylvania. Maybe this is just human nature, taking the path of least resistance, indulging in whatever is put in front of you.
This truck stop is the only thing in town and there is nothing but pre-packaged, processes, and sugar-filled products here. It's hard to tell who to blame for this kind of lifestyle. Maybe this is just making the best of a bad situation, not having anything for miles and miles outside of the town line, but, who am I to judge?
I think it's mostly the "nobody lives there" that prevents actual grocery stores from existing in these towns. But yeah, that doesn't solve the mystery of how the few people who *do* live there get by. Cheetos for breakfast? Or 200-mile round-trip drives to get vegetables?ReplyDelete
Most bikers I talk to are usually pretty cool. Open with the "drivers/cars/RVs suck!" angle to find the 2-wheeled common ground. Pedal-biker might have been mocking, but there's just as good of a chance that he was saluting in amazement.