A woman steps behind her 2000some Silver Dodge Grand Caravan, clicks opens up her automatic rear hatch while trying to prevent her two puppies from escaping.
Actual dogs, not…
well…
She successfully leashes them both up, drops them safely to the ground, leans in to grab a gallon of water from a cooler and two dishes, cascading water into dishes as dogs dart about feverishly around each other, thin nylon straps intertwining, causing her to almost trip while placing dishes on the ground. Dogs go to town lapping up as woman does some sort of impromptu Riverdance to escape the leash maze, all the while a man sleeps in the passenger seat, socked feet on the plastic dashboard.
Three spots down, exiting a red 2000some Chevy Malibu, is a woman with 3 small humans, ages small to extra small, all running around, hopping up and down, UNLEASHED, screaming food questions in unison, with one little scamp going absolutely apeshit once his eyes spotted the McDonaldland Climbnasium, adored in bright red and yellow, gleaming though the big front window, all the while the woman is trying to gather keys, handbag, car/booster seat and a myriad of “its cold out here put these on” small human jackets.
And a lone biker at the head of the parking lot triangle, fighting with a helmet, hat, sunglasses, earbuds, tangled earbud cord, rain jacket, leather jacket, sweatshirt and rain pants just to get off his steed and get to the cash ladened wallet tucked in the front left hand pocket of his Levi’s.
At one point, we (adults) all kind of caught each other’s eye, and I bet we were all wondering who was more exasperated at that point with that exact moment in our lives.
Then, one of the small humans caught sight of a puppie, and all hell broke loose.
Allowed me to quickly get inside to order ahead of them all.
Not that it mattered, as the staff were having a hard time fulfilling their job requirements, and soon there was a line 5-8 people deep, and even when I got them to finally wait on me, my look must have scared them into moving a bit slower.
Probably would’ve made out a lot better if I was dressed in a Black and White outfit, complete with black mask, red cape, gloves and wide brimmed hat and just reached over the counter, snatched an armful of McDoubles with Cheese, continually muttering “Robble Robble Robble” as I made a hasty exit, escaping to meet up with Capt Crook at the secret location of the Hamburger Patch.
This afternoon has been brilliant.
This was my longest leg of my trip (615 miles) and I needed a good weather day to keep my spirits elevated.
I left Elkhart about 9am ish and had a perfect ride into Chicago.
Even Chi-town traffic wasn’t all that bad. And even when it was, O’Hare was kckin, and that is always very exciting sitting on the freeway watching planes come and go at what feels like inches from your helmet.
Wisconsin is a fun ride, resplendent with plush green to all sides. Only interrupted by giant billboards asking travelers to come see the Rick Wilcox Magic Show.
I know he has skills too, as I’m sure it took quite a bit of magic to get that beautiful gal on that billboard to pose with that smiling mug of his.
Or witchcraft
Or a gun.
Wisconsin I-90 West was as uneventful as you might imagine, but the wind has certainly kicked up the further North I go.
My right foot, and ONLY my right foot, has been threatening to leave its post for a couple of hundred miles now, and it’s an actual fight to keep it on my peg. At the same time that little situation was going on, the LEFT side of my collar has unbuttoned itself, and has now begun whipping the side of my jawline.
I angle myself to correct the situation, and with that, my jacket BELT unflapped and begun whipping my right thigh.
My jacket has suddenly turned on me.
Behold the awesomest world of Rick Wilcox’s Wisconsin.
My iPod, still un-named, assessing my pain, cuts off midsong and cues up some Megadeth to help ease my psyche.
Ok, that didn’t happen, but DAMN what if it did?
My first gas stop in Wisconsin was at Portage, at a tiny store with a GIANT statue of a man holding cheese in front of it.
Under the giant man of fisted cheese was a little blue import refusing to start up for its owner.
I desperately wanted to take a picture of the giant cheese man, but just felt rude being all giddy and touristy in front of a guy having such issues with his day, so I passed.
After pumping gas, enjoying the rural silent setting of this particular gas stop, I go inside to pay and say to the clerk,
“Certainly is quiet up here huh?”
“As opposed to what” is her reply.
I suppose that’s a perfect answer.
Stopped in Eau Claire Wisconsin for another fill up and was immediately greeted by 2 bikers and their gals out for a late afternoon scoot.
Introductions were made and the 10 minute conversation was a perfect break from my 2 days of solitude. Funny how a simple gas pump conversation can bring so much into a ride. That is the part of any big trip I think I enjoy the most.
The next 300 hundred miles or so were amazing. Minnesota is simply gorgeous. Seemed like I could’ve rode for hours as the sun took forever to retire, and the weather turned perfectly cool. Kai and I were simpatico and I even though I was losing feeling in my fingers, I was a little bummed when I saw my hotel exit.
As I sit in front of the weather channel tonight, I notice a HUGE weather system has me pinned in a corner, as the thick line of darkly louring clouds are awaiting me in the West.
All day rain and SNOW coming in from the Northwest (my original route running me through North Dakota into Montana)
Rain and a line of TORNADOS across the Midwest (my back up States option, South Dakota and Wyoming)
I fear I have no choice but to enter Canada a few days early to try to get above this monster.
Winnipeg here I come!
And for any of you with larceny in your hearts, I’ve since moved my fat wallet to a new location.
Peace Grease and Beats
