"I awoke last night to the sound of thunder. How far off I sat and wondered?" - Bob Seger
That is exactly what happened at 4:30 AM on Tuesday morning. I heard the distant sound of thunder which awoke me. The rumblings were coming with some regularity and I could see the flashes of lightning illuminating my tent. I laid there and tried to gauge if the storm was heading my direction or not. It was a difficult thing to judge in the dark in my tent.
After lying there for an hour listening to the storm, I came to three conclusions. First, I've been hearing this storm for a while and it sounds like it was heading my way. Second, at this point I was awake enough that I wasn't going to get any more sleep. Third, I really, really dislike trying to pack up and load wet gear.
I decided that I might as well break camp now and try to get everything loaded up before the rain hit. I got up and started assembling my luggage and rolling up my sleeping bag/air mattress. The mattress pump was still dead as a doornail so I just pulled the plug and tried to squeeze as much air out of it as I could.
Once I had everything inside the tent consolidated, I moved it out onto the picnic table and proceeded to knock down the tent. The sun was just starting to give the first rays of light over the horizon which gave me a better view of the pending storm. At this point I knew I was in a race for time.
I finished packing the tent as quickly as I could, and then loaded everything on the bike. My luggage is waterproof so that didn't concern me if it got wet. However my tent and sleeping bags would act like a giant sponge if they were to get wet so I took the precaution of wrapping them in a plastic bag before I lashed them to the pillion. I also took a moment to don my rain gear as it looked like I was going to need it.
Right when I finished loading the bike I paused to snap this picture. Not five seconds later the rain started to come down. I couldn't have cut it any closer.
When I first decided to pack up early I thought maybe I could hit the road and put some miles between me and the rain. Once I was clear of the weather I could stop somewhere and grab a bite to eat. As I pulled out of the campground the rain started coming down hard enough that I decided to re-think that idea.
I don't mind riding in the rain that much. The part about it I like the least is how long it takes afterwards to clean all of the gunk out of the nooks and crannies of the bike. Sometimes it's a little chilly depending on the temperature. Sometimes the rain on your glasses and windshield can make the visibility poor. I slow down a touch for safety-sake but overall I don't worry too much about rain riding.
However, what was happening at the moment would be hard to describe as rain. It was more like riding under a waterfall. Even just going 20 mph I was having a hard time seeing. I knew I couldn't ride too far in these conditions so I decided to stop for breakfast sooner rather than later.
The clock was now showing a few ticks after 6 AM. As I rode through town there didn't look like too many restaurants were yet open. This kind of surprised me as I figured August would still be prime tourist season and some people are early risers. Apparently I was wrong on at least one of these points.
The rain continued to pour and I happened upon the McDonalds which was open. I didn't have a lot of room to be picky so I pulled in and ran inside for shelter. The crowd inside was sparse. I took off my rain gear and piled all of my stuff into a booth. Then I went up and ordered the giant breakfast platter. I decided I had some time to kill so I would have a leisurely breakfast.
The rain came down hard for a while, and then lightened to a steady shower. I hadn't heard a weather forecast since I left Sioux Falls so I wasn't sure if the rain was supposed to pass quickly or if it was going to rain all day. The McDonalds had internet access so I fired up my tablet and connected to look at the radar. It appeared as though this storm was a decent size, but one that would pass within a couple hours.
I stayed put at McDonalds until 7:45, when it looked like the rain had pretty much passed. The roads were still very wet but at least the moisture hitting my from the top side wouldn't be an issue, at least for a while.
I decided to take a different route home. On Saturday I had come in from the west on highway 62. The last time I rode down to Eureka Springs I came in from the northwest on highway 37. This time I decided to follow 23 north through downtown and see where it would take me.
I had looked at Google maps and made sure that 23 didn't veer off in a strange direction and take me to Mexico. Beyond that, I really didn't study the map that close. I figured I would keep working my way north until I hit interstate 44, at which point I would cut west until I caught 71 north at Carthage. It wasn't long until I hit the state line and entered Missouri.
Highway 23 started out as a pretty ride, but one could tell that the further north you get the less interesting the roads became. By the time I hit Cassville, MO the interesting roads had straightened out into the long, dull monotony that would make up the remainder of the day's ride. Every once in a while I would see something interesting but they were few and far between. For example, in Cassville there was a park which had a retired fighter jet on display. That was pretty cool.
Arkansas is pretty and contains some great riding, but there sure is a whole lot of dull between it and Sioux Falls. I continued riding on north and west roads with very little idea where I was in relation to a map. It seemed like I had been riding a lot farther and longer than I really had. After what seemed an eternity, I finally reached I-44.
I headed west hoping that I would quickly run into highway 71 at Carthage. I didn't know how far east of 71 I was, or even if I was east of 71. My bearings were pretty out-of-whack at this point so for all I knew I had picked up the interstate west of Carthage and was heading towards Oklahoma.
After a few miles I saw a road sign that indicated Carthage was about 10 miles ahead. I hadn't gone too far west. In fact, I had not traveled as west as I had thought.
I was really physically getting tired of riding. On top of the soreness, the lack of scenery wasn't helping my mental state either. I strongly considered stopping in Carthage for a break. I knew that I still had a very long day ahead of me and any time I spent resting now would just add on to the length of the day. I decided to press on and not stop to rest unless I felt I just couldn't possibly go any farther.
I reached the junction with highway 71 and turned to head north. There were some ominous looking clouds just ahead of me. I was hoping I wasn't in for another downpour.
Just north of Carthage it started to sprinkle. It wasn't very heavy. I opted to not put my rain gear on until it started to come down harder. After a few minutes, sure enough it suddenly started to pour. Rather than just pulling over on the shoulder where I might get hit I decided to wait until the next overpass and pull over on the exit ramp.
Before I could get to an overpass, in fact before I really could get very wet, the rain stopped. The heavy downpour only lasted about 30 seconds. The roads in front of me were pretty wet and looking at the cloud direction I concluded that I had hit the very tail end of a storm.
The next 100 miles were as uneventful on the way back as they were on the way down. I just sat there riding and worked on keeping myself awake. The unexpected early wake-up call was making me feel extra tired.
By the time I hit Harrisonville I had traveled over 200 miles since I left that morning. I was in need of gas and a restroom. I was getting pretty hungry as well but seeing as I was planning to eat some lunch on the north side of Kansas City I opted to just grab a soda for the time being.
After gassing up, it looked like once again I was going to encounter rain. I decided that as long as I was already stopped I would put on my rain gear now. After I hit the road again, within 5 miles it started to rain so I made the right choice.
As I rode through the south end of Kansas City the rain was a steady, strong shower. I was riding a little cautiously as I wasn't sure how slick some of the bridges/ramps were in this area when they got wet. I also wasn't sure how nutty the other drivers were. Thankfully traffic was pretty light and I came through with no poignant stories to tell.
Once north of downtown and across the Missouri river, the rain stopped. I was going to take a break for lunch in just a few miles so I didn't bother pulling over to remove my rain gear.
On the north side of Kansas City I stopped for lunch at a Golden Corral. I spent a few minutes in the parking lot removing my rain gear and jackets and arranging my belongings. The clouds had mostly departed and the sun was shining. With the sun came warmth.
I went inside and spent an hour or so packing my body with as much food as it would hold. Really, there's no legitimate reason a person needs to consume that amount. It seems like the frugal side of me can't resist getting as much bang for my buck as possible even if it means making me sick. One day I may learn the difference between "all you care to eat" and "all you can eat."
Sufficiently hindered, I lumbered my way back to the bike. The sun was still beating down so I decided to be wise and apply sunscreen. I also didn't put on my jacket and gloves as at the moment it felt pretty warm.
Obviously, the flooding on Interstate 29 hadn't been rectified in the few days since I last passed through. I thought that rather than take the same route home I might try something new. On the way down I took highway 59 as a detour for I-29. I thought on the way back home I might take highway 71 out of St. Joseph up to I-80 instead. If highway 71 was interesting, I might even take it all the way up to Lake Okoboji before heading west to Sioux Falls. I wasn't sure about this second idea, however, as it would probably add two hours to the day and I was already pretty weary.
By the time I hit St. Joe the sun had gone back behind the clouds and it had gotten a little colder. The overcast skies would remain for most of the rest of the trip home.
On the north end of St. Joe I picked up highway 71 heading north. This went through Maryville which I have very little memory of as I was desperately fighting sleep at this point in time. The early wake-up coupled with the huge lunch had finally taken its toll. I tried everything I could to wake myself up, but I finally came to my senses that it wasn't going to happen.
I looked for a good place to pull over, and found a little truck stop somewhere north of Maryville. I grabbed my hat and walked over to an area by a pasture and lay down. I rolled my jacket up under my head, pulled my hat down over my eyes and sacked out.
I only slept for about 15 minutes. I awoke to the sound of chains rattling. A farmer had pulled up in his truck and was opening the gate to his pasture. I sat up and he apologized for waking me up. I told him it was no problem. After he drove off into his field I sat for a few minutes and gauged my condition. I was still tired, but I reasoned that I was sufficiently awake to try to press on. I could always stop for another nap if needed.
I continued to ride north on 71 and came to the conclusion that I should have taken highway 59 back the same way I came down, as this highway was beyond dull. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally reached the Iowa border.
From the border I had about 60 miles to go until I would reach I-80. It seemed like 260 miles as slow as the time passed. Once again I really felt like I was in the middle of nowhere. I've got family in Iowa and have been through a good chunk of the state. I must say that highway 71 from I-80 south is truly the dullest part I've found, which is saying quite a bit because most of the state makes for pretty dull travel. I decided once I got to I-80 I was going to take the interstate home. There was no way I was fit to endure hours more of this dull road.
In one of the weirder things I've seen on my travels, I passed the town of Villisca. This is your typical small Iowa town made up of maybe a thousand people. The notable part about the town was an informational sign along the highway listing the "Villisca Axe Murder House" as an attraction. In the middle of a really dull day, this suddenly made me laugh out loud.
Later when I got home I looked up this "Axe Murder House". As it turns out on June 10, 1912 a family was murdered in this house by an unknown assailant with an axe (hence the name.) The killer was never caught and the house has supposedly been haunted ever since. The city's website is dedicated to information about this house, and for various fees a person can visit and even stay overnight in the house. Personally, I think the scariest part about visiting the house would be knowing I'd have to drive on highway 71 again.
In the late afternoon I finally reached I-80. At this point, knowing I still had 4 hours to go was rather depressing. A small consolation was that it was now interstate the rest of the way back to Sioux Falls, so at least I could maintain a good speed.
I stopped in Walnut, IA for gas at a small convenience store along the interstate. I grabbed a soda (still full from lunch so I didn't bother with a snack) and prepared myself for the last leg of the journey. I reasoned I could probably make it the remainder of the way home without any more stops. The temperature was a little chilly and it looked like it might rain again. I considered putting on my rain gear now just so I wouldn't have to stop down the road, but decided against it. As it turned out, this was the correct decision as I didn't hit any more rain on this day.
The remainder of the trip was four hours of uneventfulness. The miles slowly ticked by. I headed north on I-29 and was slowed quite a bit by flooding detours and road construction. There was a lot of construction; a lot more than I had encountered in the south bound lane.
As I approached Sioux Falls, the sun came out and the temperature started to rise. By the time I pulled into town it was a downright beautiful evening. I was hungry enough to eat supper and wasn't sure what was in the fridge at home, so I swung by Jimmy Johns and grabbed a freaky fast sandwich.
I stopped for my final fill-up about eight blocks from home. I usually try and fill my tank right when I get into town. This gives me an opportunity to figure out my mileage on the last leg of the journey and also prevents me from forgetting I parked the bike with an empty tank.
I rode home to an empty house. My wife and son were out at his football practice. I unpacked the bike and unpacked my luggage. When they arrived home I was relaxing in my chair enjoying my sub.
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This page last updated on 06/28/2018