|
| |
Day 14
June 15th, 2001
Salina, Kansas
I slept in today. I mean I reeeeealy slept in. I staggered out of
bed at 11am and braced myself in the shower. A trash truck banging around
in the parking lot at 7am woke me, but I quickly drifted back into a coma by
7:15am and managed another 40 winks.
I was only carrying out my plan. I wanted to sleep as late as I could on
this day to prepare for a 12am departure on a SS1000 and the final run
home. My strategy was 3 fold. A midnight H hour would allow me the
minimum of night travel. Instead of riding into darkness dictated by a 6am
start, I would be riding into the daylight. A significant mental
advantage. A 6am H hour would place me in hills of Kentucky, and Tennessee
at night, instead of the plains of Kansas and Missouri. I much preferred riding
at night in the plains, then the hills. It also gave me the advantage of
passing through Kansas City, and St. Louis in the wee hours, leaving only the
familiar city of Nashville to punch through in heavy traffic.
After my shower, I took the ST to a car wash and hosed off the aftermath of a
massive bug swarm from the night before. It was so thick I worried about
the radiator becoming blocked and overheating the ST. The windshield and
fairing were plastered. I don't like to use high pressure to wash, but had
no choice.
I returned to the Motel 6 and walked over to Denny's for lunch. I ordered
a chicken spaghetti concoction that proved to be a horrible mistake. I
dutifully paid my bill and left a apologetic waitress a 2 dollar tip.
It was a strikingly beautiful day. The sky was a deep blue, temps in the
70s. Perfect day to be riding. I had to restrain myself from packing up
and getting on the road, and taking a leisurely ride south across Kansas into
Arkansas, and checking out the Ozarks. The only thing greater then my
desire ride out now, was my desire to get in the Iron Butt Association.
After lunch I walked across to the Flying J Truck Stop. It was then I saw
3 Wings ride in pulling trailers. I walked out to find they were from
Alabama!! They were on their way back from Yellowstone, and were going as
far east as Columbia, Missouri on this day. I failed to ask where they had
departed from. I was able to find out they were from the Birmingham
area. I envied them out riding on such a fine day while I was holed up in
motel, but I had a plan, and was sticking to it.
I went back to the motel, read USA today, and clicked channels. I stopped at the
Weather Channel and got good news. The weather would be perfect tonight,
and tomorrow, all the way to the east coast. I could not have ordered
better weather. No fronts were anywhere near, and the only precipitation I
had to look for would be the afternoon thundershower when I return to hot and
humid Alabama.
I drifted off to sleep about 2 pm watching Oprah.
After my nap I strolled the motel parking lot. Not much to see. I was
still disjointed about not being on the road. I had a excellent ride
yesterday afternoon, and wanted another. I wanted to see more towns and fields
of the Midwest, instead of the I-70 sojourns coming up later. Still I
resisted, surrendering to the call of Iron Butt. Besides there would be
other days for just riding. I was psyched for the SS1000, the weather
would be perfect, and I felt good. The stars may never align this
perfectly again, so I HAD to take advantage of it.
I came back and watched some more TV, catching the local news. Reporters were on
the scene in a small town outside of Topeka where a young girl and her
grandfather were killed in a car-train accident. Tragic.
I called the Salina PD for directions to the station. I was pleased to
learn it was only 1 turn and a few miles away. I did not want to flounder
around looking for a cop to sign my witness form at 12am.
I strolled back over to Flying J for a pre ride meal. Wendy's. After
the lunch debacle, I stuck with a proven commodity.
After lunch, I went out back to watch big rigs fuel up. I studied these
drivers that make a living on the road. They live their lives in truck stops and
rest areas. In a limited way my motorcycle travels have helped me
understand the sub culture of the truck driver. I share the road with
them, both rider and driver have a appreciation of the mode of travel we choose,
and the accompanying difficulties of each vehicle. He is a guy trying to
make a living, and at the same time survive crazed ass cage drivers that cut in
front of him, and over zealous LEOs that like nothing more then busting him for
speeding a few miles over the limit. My helmet is off to them.
The parking lot of the motel was beginning to fill up. I saw out of town
construction workers in the pool. They were noisy, and played their boom box
LOUD.
I took another shower and shaved, because it would the last shower and shave for
24 hrs.
I made trip notes and zipped it up in the Roadcrafter. The route was
simple. I-70 to St. Louis then look for the signs to Nashville.
At 10pm I began loading the ST, and finished the job 30 minutes later.
I went back to the Weather Channel for a live radar report. NO rain in the
eastern US. YES.
I took the Roadcrafter off the hanger and zipped up. I felt like fighter
pilot. I was now fully briefed. Target, route, weather all noted.
Equipment checked and ready. I cleaned my helmet and glasses. All
systems were ready to go. I no longer could hold myself back and walked
out to the loaded ST. It stared at me as if to say "Lets knock down
this 1000 miles so I can wear that Iron Butt tag".
I pushed the starter button and rolled out.
 
|
