It has been a few days since I posted. I normally work two jobs, bowling on Mondays, trying to handle home schedules, and a variety of other activities have been keeping me busy. Michael Jackson passing away was a little bit of a surprise, and it does seem like we have lost a number of people in the last couple weeks but taken all in stride. Life gets hectic quite quickly, and sometimes we have to pause, reflect, readjust, and maybe reorganize. In my own way I find a motorcycle ride to some unknown destination always gives me the time to step out of myself and recharge.
For those who may not have experienced such things on a motorcycle, I can only suggest you try it. You don’t have an office calling you constantly. You aren’t forced into a multitasking machine, robotically moving about the days normal tasks, but instead you are forced to focus on the ride and the road ahead. Your mind can then let those suppressed thoughts out and the daily clutter falls away. Some will tell you it’s a spiritual experience, reminding you of those horsemen who rode this land before. For me I prefer to think it’s my time to clear my head, make my prayers known to my God, and set aside those daily doses of sensory onslaught.
I took some time Friday to do just that. I had cleared one day during the July 4th Holiday to escape my hectic schedule and ride up to one of my favorite places - Cabela's. There are two such Cabela's stores within a days ride from my house. One is located in southwestern Wisconsin in Prairie Du Chien, and the other is located in Owatonna, Minnesota. I have been to the Prairie Du Chien store a couple years ago, purchasing a pair of Arctic style winter boots. The winters in Iowa tend to get rather cold at times, and these boots have proven their worth in keeping my feet VERY warm. The northerly route to Minnesota, however, would be a bit more challenging in part because I have not ridden as much on 4 lane interstate highways as I would like. The challenge is furthered by the distance. Owatonna is 226 miles from my house, which means a roundtrip would put me close to a 500 mile ride. After discussing the trip with my wife, I decided to try for Owatonna.
A few notes here on my choice. Any time you set out on a longer trip it is important to plan your route. This was my first foray into a day long ride, so my safety is dependant on making sure my family is aware of where I am. My navigation skills are, for lack of a better word, awful! I have been known to make a wrong turn in front of my own house. Sometimes what I see on a map doesn’t look the same in person, so I always go over a route with my wife. Another problem for me is safety. I do not go on rides typically more than about 150 miles, so a ride of this length would test my physical abilities on the road. Having had some knee problems a few years ago, doctors gave me prednisone, a steroidal drug which added 70 pounds to my body. In short, this ride would test all of my skills for future rides to places like Mackinac Bridge in Michigan and Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. Stepping a bit at a time like this can reveal some problem areas and weaknesses in your capabilities, so a ride to Owatonna might reveal areas I may need to work on for longer rides.
I left the house about 8:30 AM Friday morning. The weather was sunny, temp was about 65 degrees. It was nice weather for a ride. Not too hot or humid. I was fully donned in my safety gear – jacket, chaps, workboots, and helmet. I believe in my safety gear, so riding on a cooler less humid day was a blessing. After gassing up I set out northbound. One of the things I did find was turning my arms a bit to force air thru my riding jacket. As the jacket fills with air it allows air to circulate over my body cooling it down. As I headed north I made an observation that we all see from time to time. Cell phone use while driving accounts for a large percentage of motor vehicle accidents in this country. The cell phone has become a much a part of our everyday lives as the computer. To that end, I noticed too many people driving and chatting on their cell phones. One particular woman was on her phone and yelling at her children at the same time while driving. Which hand she had on the steering wheel is still a mystery, but I note this because this gave me cause for concern of not only my safety but everyone on the road. It has become a large distraction and a safety issue. Unfortunately people still feel compelled to drive 90 mph on our country’s interstates with a cell phone in their ear.
After making it thru Waterloo, I turned northerly and westerly, and I began to notice something rather peculiar. Whether this is a sign of our downturned economy, or if it’s a higher wisdom
making use of a more renewable energy source, I came up on a number of windmill farms. Not the old style windmills from years past but the newer electricity generating behemoths turning nose into the wind to make cheap electricity. I have seen such farms in places in western states such as California, Oregon, Colorado, and Arizona, but not too many here in the Midwest. Seeing these windmills will become more and more common as demands continue to rise on electricity usage. Many years ago I wrote a paper in college on alternate energy sources, and I noted at that time windmills could be used to replace coal and oil as energy sources, but never thought my prediction would come true.
My first gas stop was in Mason City on I-35. Pulling up to the pump, my body reminded me my knees were not ready to dismount the bike just yet, almost falling on my face while coming off the bike. All it takes is once for gravity to work, and you will not soon forget its lesson. I walked around the bike a few times just to get my limbs moving again. While gassing up, a beautiful Harley Davidson Road King pulled up next to me, and its rider took some time to grant me blessings
on my ride. We exchanged some pleasantries, but it was the blessing of “Have a GOOD RIDE” that made me feel better. After walking around a bit more, I mounted back up and left Mason City to my south. One thing I have noticed since buying my Harley is other riders always will take time to chat and bless you with a “Have a Good Ride” or some other positive blessing. While I may not see that gentleman again, I pass on my own “Have a Good Ride” in hopes that some day I might meet up with him again!!
Another observation I made was the invasion of my senses. It isn’t just one or two senses that take in the ride, but virtually all of them. Your sense of touch is the vibration of the bike, the roughness of the road, the steering and the movement of the bike over
the road. The things you see, such as the folks who wave at you from the comfort of their SUV’s, or the signs which point the way, the windmill farms, or the seeing your destination ahead. Sounds are muffled out, but the whine of tires on the highway remind you of oncoming traffic. What I didn’t expect was smell. As I rode further north into Minnesota, the smell of freshly baled hay, a solitary hog lot penetrating the senses with its putrid odors, the fragrance of sweet clover. Several places along my route I picked up the smell of clover blossoming in the fields, wafting over the road and soothing my emotions with its intoxicating waves. Somewhere along the way I realized these smells were allowing my senses to open up and increase my awareness while on the road.
I finally arrived at Cabela’s! It was about 12:30 PM. Sun was just starting to cloud up a bit, and it was obvious I would have to cut my stay short. Rain was scheduled to move into the area and in a lot of the rural areas there is just no hiding from inclement weather. One of my goals in visiting Cabela’s was to look into a back pack. Unfortunately because of the rain, I revised my schedule to just hunting equipment and clothing. Of course
nothing says I was there like a t-shirt or a hat, but I also enjoy archery, and am looking into a new compound bow. The “campus” of Cabela’s is enormous. From the separate boating facility to their own eatery to everything in between, Cabela’s can offer anyone who has any sort of outdoor interest something. It is a bit weird walking into a place in full biker leathers, but at least I took some time to look into a few things before I left. A few small purchases, including some beef jerky and an energy drink were enough to satisfy my hunger for now. As I sat outside observing the crowd, a large deer statuesque and a bear likeness stood guard as sentries posted for my protection. If there is ever a place I could enjoy being at for days this was it!
As I left the comfort of Cabela’s, I waved goodbye at the deer and headed back south on I-35 to home. A brief gas stop in Mason City again gave me some concern as rain began to lightly fall in the area. My experience in rain has been very limited, to the point where I hesitate to even ride in sprinkles. I have seen too many motorcyclists hurt or killed for riding too fast in rain, and my inexperience is a big factor in considering riding in the rain, but as luck would have it, the rain only came in light sprinkles. I was forced, however, to change my riding route back home, opting to ride around the larger rain squalls in the area. This meant adding about 40 miles to my ride, but my confidence was such that this would not be a problem, right?
My previous post mentioned Coach Ed Thomas. The football coach for Parkersburg High School violently gunned down while directing school activities in the weight room at the high school. My change in routes would actually take me past the Parkersburg exit. I could never honor Coach enough to make any particular difference to those who knew him best. Knowing the kind of coach he was gives me hope that my daughters had teachers like him. The community of Parkersburg has dealt with so much tragedy and loss that it’s hard to comfort those who have lived in this community in the last year. As I stopped I took a picture of the highway sign, and remembered that while the people of Parkersburg have suffered many losses, they also have gained many triumphs, and I pray that they all can find healing in the years to come.
I pulled away from the Parkersburg exit heading east on Highway 20, in a sort of prayerful manner. I was only 60 miles from home. I had spent a great day on my motorcycle, experiencing all sorts of assaults on my senses. The wind on my face and beard almost felt like feathers brushing against my skin. It was cloudy and the humidity was beginning to rise, a sure sign of rain. As luck would have it, I was going to make one last stop but I didn’t know it. I had been on the bike for over two hours, but I began to realize that the added 40 miles from my route change was beginning to take a tool on my tail bone. My back muscles were beginning to cramp, and my face was getting a little wind burned. I had left home with an open face helmet. I chose this helmet for a couple reasons, but the biggest reason was I wanted to make sure I could “hear” traffic approaching me from behind. All these things were beginning to take a tool, and as I turned south onto I-380, it was becoming rapidly evident I needed to stop and walk around. After about 20 miles I found my stop – a DOT weigh station that was closed for the weekend. I pulled off into the parking area, and as I dismounted my legs cramped, then my back, and my legs again. A
reminder that I should have been hydrating a bit more. In fact, as I tried to pull my left leg off the bike, I almost could not lift it over the seat. Once I pulled myself up again, I removed my coat and helmet and spent several minutes walking around. I quickly texted my wife, so she would not be too concerned about a late arrival. Since she was still working I knew she would not respond, but I was so cramped up I had to take some time off the bike. Just then a white Hyundai pulled into the parking lot, and the driver, a young man in his twenties gets out with a mandolin strapped around his neck. Not knowing what the intentions of this young man were, I took this as my cue to head on home. As I pulled out of that weigh station it started to sprinkle again, a sure sign I needed to be home soon.
My final stretch home was fairly uneventful, noting only the sprinkles that kept dotting my windshield on occasion. As I pulled into my garage, I was overcome with the feeling of thankfulness and relief. My wife and daughters greeted me in the garage, but I was relieved that this ride had gone well, and I had experienced many emotions that day, from the joy of seeing wild turkeys feeding on the side of the road to the smell of clover to the feel of a new bow to the feel of rain on my nose. Any good time starts with good planning, a little preparation, and flexibility to change as the need warrants. After planning this ride for a week, I realized that I had been truly blessed for the experiences I had this day.
May all of YOU be this blessed this Fourth of July!
Boomer
For those who may not have experienced such things on a motorcycle, I can only suggest you try it. You don’t have an office calling you constantly. You aren’t forced into a multitasking machine, robotically moving about the days normal tasks, but instead you are forced to focus on the ride and the road ahead. Your mind can then let those suppressed thoughts out and the daily clutter falls away. Some will tell you it’s a spiritual experience, reminding you of those horsemen who rode this land before. For me I prefer to think it’s my time to clear my head, make my prayers known to my God, and set aside those daily doses of sensory onslaught.
I took some time Friday to do just that. I had cleared one day during the July 4th Holiday to escape my hectic schedule and ride up to one of my favorite places - Cabela's. There are two such Cabela's stores within a days ride from my house. One is located in southwestern Wisconsin in Prairie Du Chien, and the other is located in Owatonna, Minnesota. I have been to the Prairie Du Chien store a couple years ago, purchasing a pair of Arctic style winter boots. The winters in Iowa tend to get rather cold at times, and these boots have proven their worth in keeping my feet VERY warm. The northerly route to Minnesota, however, would be a bit more challenging in part because I have not ridden as much on 4 lane interstate highways as I would like. The challenge is furthered by the distance. Owatonna is 226 miles from my house, which means a roundtrip would put me close to a 500 mile ride. After discussing the trip with my wife, I decided to try for Owatonna.
A few notes here on my choice. Any time you set out on a longer trip it is important to plan your route. This was my first foray into a day long ride, so my safety is dependant on making sure my family is aware of where I am. My navigation skills are, for lack of a better word, awful! I have been known to make a wrong turn in front of my own house. Sometimes what I see on a map doesn’t look the same in person, so I always go over a route with my wife. Another problem for me is safety. I do not go on rides typically more than about 150 miles, so a ride of this length would test my physical abilities on the road. Having had some knee problems a few years ago, doctors gave me prednisone, a steroidal drug which added 70 pounds to my body. In short, this ride would test all of my skills for future rides to places like Mackinac Bridge in Michigan and Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. Stepping a bit at a time like this can reveal some problem areas and weaknesses in your capabilities, so a ride to Owatonna might reveal areas I may need to work on for longer rides.
I left the house about 8:30 AM Friday morning. The weather was sunny, temp was about 65 degrees. It was nice weather for a ride. Not too hot or humid. I was fully donned in my safety gear – jacket, chaps, workboots, and helmet. I believe in my safety gear, so riding on a cooler less humid day was a blessing. After gassing up I set out northbound. One of the things I did find was turning my arms a bit to force air thru my riding jacket. As the jacket fills with air it allows air to circulate over my body cooling it down. As I headed north I made an observation that we all see from time to time. Cell phone use while driving accounts for a large percentage of motor vehicle accidents in this country. The cell phone has become a much a part of our everyday lives as the computer. To that end, I noticed too many people driving and chatting on their cell phones. One particular woman was on her phone and yelling at her children at the same time while driving. Which hand she had on the steering wheel is still a mystery, but I note this because this gave me cause for concern of not only my safety but everyone on the road. It has become a large distraction and a safety issue. Unfortunately people still feel compelled to drive 90 mph on our country’s interstates with a cell phone in their ear.
After making it thru Waterloo, I turned northerly and westerly, and I began to notice something rather peculiar. Whether this is a sign of our downturned economy, or if it’s a higher wisdom
making use of a more renewable energy source, I came up on a number of windmill farms. Not the old style windmills from years past but the newer electricity generating behemoths turning nose into the wind to make cheap electricity. I have seen such farms in places in western states such as California, Oregon, Colorado, and Arizona, but not too many here in the Midwest. Seeing these windmills will become more and more common as demands continue to rise on electricity usage. Many years ago I wrote a paper in college on alternate energy sources, and I noted at that time windmills could be used to replace coal and oil as energy sources, but never thought my prediction would come true.My first gas stop was in Mason City on I-35. Pulling up to the pump, my body reminded me my knees were not ready to dismount the bike just yet, almost falling on my face while coming off the bike. All it takes is once for gravity to work, and you will not soon forget its lesson. I walked around the bike a few times just to get my limbs moving again. While gassing up, a beautiful Harley Davidson Road King pulled up next to me, and its rider took some time to grant me blessings
on my ride. We exchanged some pleasantries, but it was the blessing of “Have a GOOD RIDE” that made me feel better. After walking around a bit more, I mounted back up and left Mason City to my south. One thing I have noticed since buying my Harley is other riders always will take time to chat and bless you with a “Have a Good Ride” or some other positive blessing. While I may not see that gentleman again, I pass on my own “Have a Good Ride” in hopes that some day I might meet up with him again!!Another observation I made was the invasion of my senses. It isn’t just one or two senses that take in the ride, but virtually all of them. Your sense of touch is the vibration of the bike, the roughness of the road, the steering and the movement of the bike over
the road. The things you see, such as the folks who wave at you from the comfort of their SUV’s, or the signs which point the way, the windmill farms, or the seeing your destination ahead. Sounds are muffled out, but the whine of tires on the highway remind you of oncoming traffic. What I didn’t expect was smell. As I rode further north into Minnesota, the smell of freshly baled hay, a solitary hog lot penetrating the senses with its putrid odors, the fragrance of sweet clover. Several places along my route I picked up the smell of clover blossoming in the fields, wafting over the road and soothing my emotions with its intoxicating waves. Somewhere along the way I realized these smells were allowing my senses to open up and increase my awareness while on the road.
I finally arrived at Cabela’s! It was about 12:30 PM. Sun was just starting to cloud up a bit, and it was obvious I would have to cut my stay short. Rain was scheduled to move into the area and in a lot of the rural areas there is just no hiding from inclement weather. One of my goals in visiting Cabela’s was to look into a back pack. Unfortunately because of the rain, I revised my schedule to just hunting equipment and clothing. Of course
nothing says I was there like a t-shirt or a hat, but I also enjoy archery, and am looking into a new compound bow. The “campus” of Cabela’s is enormous. From the separate boating facility to their own eatery to everything in between, Cabela’s can offer anyone who has any sort of outdoor interest something. It is a bit weird walking into a place in full biker leathers, but at least I took some time to look into a few things before I left. A few small purchases, including some beef jerky and an energy drink were enough to satisfy my hunger for now. As I sat outside observing the crowd, a large deer statuesque and a bear likeness stood guard as sentries posted for my protection. If there is ever a place I could enjoy being at for days this was it!
As I left the comfort of Cabela’s, I waved goodbye at the deer and headed back south on I-35 to home. A brief gas stop in Mason City again gave me some concern as rain began to lightly fall in the area. My experience in rain has been very limited, to the point where I hesitate to even ride in sprinkles. I have seen too many motorcyclists hurt or killed for riding too fast in rain, and my inexperience is a big factor in considering riding in the rain, but as luck would have it, the rain only came in light sprinkles. I was forced, however, to change my riding route back home, opting to ride around the larger rain squalls in the area. This meant adding about 40 miles to my ride, but my confidence was such that this would not be a problem, right?My previous post mentioned Coach Ed Thomas. The football coach for Parkersburg High School violently gunned down while directing school activities in the weight room at the high school. My change in routes would actually take me past the Parkersburg exit. I could never honor Coach enough to make any particular difference to those who knew him best. Knowing the kind of coach he was gives me hope that my daughters had teachers like him. The community of Parkersburg has dealt with so much tragedy and loss that it’s hard to comfort those who have lived in this community in the last year. As I stopped I took a picture of the highway sign, and remembered that while the people of Parkersburg have suffered many losses, they also have gained many triumphs, and I pray that they all can find healing in the years to come.
I pulled away from the Parkersburg exit heading east on Highway 20, in a sort of prayerful manner. I was only 60 miles from home. I had spent a great day on my motorcycle, experiencing all sorts of assaults on my senses. The wind on my face and beard almost felt like feathers brushing against my skin. It was cloudy and the humidity was beginning to rise, a sure sign of rain. As luck would have it, I was going to make one last stop but I didn’t know it. I had been on the bike for over two hours, but I began to realize that the added 40 miles from my route change was beginning to take a tool on my tail bone. My back muscles were beginning to cramp, and my face was getting a little wind burned. I had left home with an open face helmet. I chose this helmet for a couple reasons, but the biggest reason was I wanted to make sure I could “hear” traffic approaching me from behind. All these things were beginning to take a tool, and as I turned south onto I-380, it was becoming rapidly evident I needed to stop and walk around. After about 20 miles I found my stop – a DOT weigh station that was closed for the weekend. I pulled off into the parking area, and as I dismounted my legs cramped, then my back, and my legs again. A
reminder that I should have been hydrating a bit more. In fact, as I tried to pull my left leg off the bike, I almost could not lift it over the seat. Once I pulled myself up again, I removed my coat and helmet and spent several minutes walking around. I quickly texted my wife, so she would not be too concerned about a late arrival. Since she was still working I knew she would not respond, but I was so cramped up I had to take some time off the bike. Just then a white Hyundai pulled into the parking lot, and the driver, a young man in his twenties gets out with a mandolin strapped around his neck. Not knowing what the intentions of this young man were, I took this as my cue to head on home. As I pulled out of that weigh station it started to sprinkle again, a sure sign I needed to be home soon.My final stretch home was fairly uneventful, noting only the sprinkles that kept dotting my windshield on occasion. As I pulled into my garage, I was overcome with the feeling of thankfulness and relief. My wife and daughters greeted me in the garage, but I was relieved that this ride had gone well, and I had experienced many emotions that day, from the joy of seeing wild turkeys feeding on the side of the road to the smell of clover to the feel of a new bow to the feel of rain on my nose. Any good time starts with good planning, a little preparation, and flexibility to change as the need warrants. After planning this ride for a week, I realized that I had been truly blessed for the experiences I had this day.
May all of YOU be this blessed this Fourth of July!
Boomer
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