Ever since the trip was done, I’ve wanted more.
It’s not that the trip was so wonderful that I want to recapture it. It’s that in nearly six thousand miles of riding I never found what I was looking for.
I keep thinking that it was too easy. That through all of that, there was no real challenge. The roads are all pretty much perfect. There’s no real risk of running out of gas in the United States.
Quick summary I set this tent up and took it down every day for over two weeks and thought it was excellent.
The details I figured that camping was “the way to do it”. I’d save money, and remain a bit more in contact with the world than if i’d of stayed in motels on my trip, so I need a tent.
I hoped on my bike and drove about a hundred and fifty miles up to the L.
So, In my list of items in my kit ( http://masukomi.posterous.com/write-up-on-my-kit-the-things-that-worked-and ) I totally forgot to mention my Buffs. This is most likely due to the fact that I wear them every day anyway so I don’t really think about them much.
One around the neck. Kept it from getting to chilly and I hate the feeling of those tiny bugs that seem to manage to ping off your throat from time to time.
Some of you, mostly the motorcycle geeks reading this, will be curious about the kit I used on the trip, what worked, and what didn’t.
I laid out the initial batch of it with detailed notes on flickr (click the image to go to flickr and see the notes) There were a number of items added afterwards.
What worked: The iPhone was wicked useful but I had no service, or no data service for so much of the time that the built in map app was useless and I ended up buying the TomTom app since it keeps all its maps locally.
I thought it would be a Grand Adventure. Something I would return from with tales of interesting events and intriguing sights. But it wasn’t like that at all. In fact, there wasn’t a whole lot to report on, on a day to day basis. I’d kind-of bemoaned that about Lois Price’s books. I enjoyed them, but it felt a bit like she’d left out so much. She’d cross entire countries only mentioning their existence in passing.
It started with a thwapping on my left foot.
Thwap
Like a thick cloth being whipped heavily across my boot.
Thwap
“But, There’s no cloth in front of my foot…” I think.
Thwap
I’m imagining some impossible piece of canvas beating in the wind, occasionally swinging around to slap across my laces.
I look down. There’s a grasshopper IN my shoelaces, its whole body wedged under them against the tongue of my boot.
I forget what state I was in. Ohio maybe? I’m not sure.
I was driving along, through the edges of some town when I see, for an instant, a Monarch Butterfly.
And then it hit me.
In the chest.
*whap*
Then, as they weigh so very little, the force of the wind colliding with my chest and rushing upwards pulled it along.
Right
up
into
my
HELMET
*flappityFlappityFlappity*
“AAAAAAAHHH!!!!”
There’s a flapping papery thing stuck between my jaw and my helmet.
Somewhere unknown
Camping in Carlyle IL
Pics from the Sky Meadow Campground
Wind Turbine Blades
Grain Storage
Murals by E. Rhodes
Wyoming Plains
Indian Springs
Phantom Canyon Road’s southern end
Bug Spatter
Iowa Standard
My bike in The Badlands
The final morning
Today, my last day, started off about a third of the way across New York in Arkport and found me riding through another cloud. This one was just enough to shorten visibility and mist up your visor. Not like the one in Wyoming which left everything dripping. After a while I made my way past the hills that bounded it and found bright blue skies with sunlight streaming down.
I was excited.
I walk in and the light snaps on. The stalls resemble small concrete torture rooms where you can easily wash down the blood. I’m about to sit when the light snaps off. “WTF?! Was there a switch I missed?” I start to move and they snap back on. No switch by the door. “This does not bode well.” The lights are on a timer. It is set to approximately 15 seconds after movement stops.
