Firstly, allow me to apologize for the tardiness in updating this blog. I appreciate the comments I have had from my regular readers and their concerns regarding the lack of recent updates, but I assure you that I am doing fine. There has just been so much going on in the last year that quite frankly, this blog took a lower priority. I have sold my law office and am now in semi-retirement (it would be actual retirement except that I have several clients that have in no uncertain terms informed me that I can not retire until they are dead and their estates handled). And, while my ECG looks like some drunk drew up a roller coaster design with more dips and jags than a newbie learning how to use a scroll saw, I am still alive and kicking. That being said, and with the down time being allowed by virtue of this Corona virus thingie, I have now managed to find the time to update this little journal with a trip that I and my best buddy, John, took this last June. Be forewarned, these entries will be long (but hopefully not tedious) simply because so much happened every day. So, here we go.
It has long been a desire of mine to take my bike out West and experience the mountains and parks that are no numerous and so different from the rather flat topography of Iowa. The plan was to see as much as we could in the time we had allotted, but never to feel rushed. There were certain sites that we were going to be sure to see on the trip, but overall it was just a trip to experience that riding a bike on the open road feeling for as long as we could, while we still could. We had no reservations at motels, no firm route, and no set distance we would travel each day. Speaking of reservations at motels, both John and I had planned to spend several nights camping at parks and public lands so we loaded all of our camping gear on the bikes. Turns out that this was unnecessary and a ton of extra weight, but it was reassuring to know that if we found ourselves without any other options, we could pull off into some grassland and sleep for the night rather comfortably (assuming that the owner of the property didn't shoot us for being suspected rustlers).
We had anticipated leaving from my place around 7:30 a.m. but because of unforeseen events (the first of many, lol), we didn't actually get on the road until around 9:15 p.m. (good thing we didn't have a schedule, huh?) . We headed West on Hwy 34 following my pre-planned GPS routing suggestion. Here's a little pearl of wisdom: never assume that the gps is taking you along the route you intended to go. It will get you where you want to go, but sometimes it has its own idea about how to get there. This will become relevant in the days to come. On this first day, the intention was to avoid interstates as much as possible and just mosey along the state highways until we got to the Loess Hills area around Council Bluffs. Apparently my gps thought that uploaded pre-planned route was a silly idea and directed us to the quickest way to Interstate 80. By the time I realized that, it was too late to change our route. Fortunately, the traffic around I80/I35 mixmaster wasn't too bad and we weren't cussing too much by the time we turned West on I80. After a couple of boring hours on the semi-hilly terrain of Iowa, we were approaching the Loess Hills area of Council Bluffs. I had to resort to a paper map (how old school is that) in order to onto the Loess Hills Scenic Byway. Apparently there are no less than 3 of them: Lincoln; Great West something; and I think a Great Eastern something. I had wanted to follow the Lincoln Byway but the signage sucked (as apparently did my map reading skills), and we ended up only riding through the tail end of the Hills. The terraced hills were a nice change but overall I was not all that impressed. The most memorable thing on that part of the trip was that a gnat had managed to sneak in under my faceshield and set up residence in my ear. This is the second pearl of wisdom I will impart to you: you can not put your finger in your ear to dislodge a pesky insect while wearing a full face helmet. It was about a half hour before we found a suitable place to stop where I could remove my helmet and finally evict that noisy and tickling squatter. Aah, the relief.
After our foray through the Loess Hills, we took I29 North through Sioux City. There was a bunch of construction as you entered the city and it didn't end until we were just about out of the city. Interesting fact: the speed limit was 55mph in the city and the Highway Patrol were like alligators at feeding time. As you leave the city, the speed limit changes and goes up to 80mph. Something I did not realize until we stopped for gas and John asked if there was something wrong with my bike. I replied "No, it was running fine, why do you ask?" He replied that it was simply that he was wondering why I was riding at 60mph when the speed limit was 80mph. Oops, my bad. After we finished gassing up and grabbing a bite at what passed as a truckstop diner (food was good but the place was dirty and the utensils looked liked they forgot to put them in the dishwasher), we headed North on I29 with gusto. John was so far back I could hardly see him in my mirror. He must have been surprised that my bike could actually do 80 mph.
We turned off I29 onto Hwy 44 and headed West. Went through a couple of small towns within the first 10 miles or so and then there was virtually nothing for the next 60 miles. I thought Iowa was flat....you haven't seen South Dakota !! Oh, there was one fixture that I will not forget. There was a single stop sign that sprung up after we had been riding for long enough for me to be numbed by the monotony: and I just barely slammed on my brakes to get stopped in time. And no, there was no traffic within a lightyear of the intersection, but I like to think of myself as a law-abiding individual. (Besides, I didn't want to give John anything to chide me about later :) ).
We had hoped to reach Winner, S.D. and grab a motel there but because of the late start and the lack of cooperation by the gps, we were not tracking up to our intentions. We eventually arrived at Parkston, S.D. and decided that since it would be another 3 hours or so to Winner and that would put it about 11:00 p.m., it would be best to overnite there in Parkston. We found an economical motel (the HorizInn Inn), run by an Indian family (asian not native) and they fortunately had two rooms available. We had asked for a single room with two beds, but all their singles had one double bed. And as well as John and I get along, sharing a bed is never going to be an option, thus two rooms. And the only reason that is relevant is because of the condition to the two rooms we received. John wanted a refrigerator in his room to store his Pepsi. He had a refrigerator but it didn't work. I wanted a tv so I could check on the weather for the next day's route, it didn''t work. We should have just changed rooms. Now, I do not mean to denigrate the motel in any way, hell, I've stayed in far worse rooms for more money; but they do have a lot of gall to get $54 for these modified prison cells. But it had the necessities, so we spent the night.
The first pic is the last photo of my roommate Sammy the Spider. Unfortunately he died traumatically shortly after this photo was taken. RIP.
Pic of my bud, John, trying to decide whether to spend the night in the laundromat or in his own room.
I checked the internet to make sure the Nomad's page was loading properly, looked over tomorrow's route on Google Maps (since my Garmin seemed to have a mind of its own), made my journal entries and then hit the sack.