Northeast Ride #2 – Day Eleven

It’s another cool start for the last day of this year’s trip. I awake before 8:00 and pack up camp for the last time. It’s always a bittersweet last morning. I know I say this every year but being on the road is freedom at it’s peak. I’m never ready for it to end but I’m longing for the smiles of my children and to hold my beautiful wife in my arms again. As much as I’d like to keep running through the country it’s time to head home.

It’s cool enough out for the jacket but I keep it stowed, the Texas heat will soon be upon me and stopping to pack it up isn’t worth the hassle. Libby was almost on empty when we stopped for the night so it’s a quick stop to fill her tank before heading back into Arkansas. I always stop to grab a photo of the Texas welcome sign, just to show I’m home. So we head back across the border, hit the first exit and double back in the right direction. The sign is in a terrible spot, there’s absolutely no shoulder so grabbing my annual photo doesn’t happen for the first time ever. It’s the same situation that has caused me to travel back to Washington and all the way back to Maine this year.

We keep on track for home. It’s quite cool out on the highway and I start to catch a chill. Not enough to get the shakes but goosebumps for sure. We start with only 300 miles to go which is a short day but it’s going to be a long 300 since aching to be home. We get a good 70 miles in before stopping for breakfast. I’m a little hungry and breakfast sound good so I start looking for a Waffle House. None of the exits have one but I spot a Huddle House. Huddle House isn’t bad but I’d prefer a Denny’s or Waffle House. Breakfast is fast, eggs and bacon with biscuits and gravy. Biscuits weren’t great but the meal hits the spot.

Back on the road. The sky remains clear and the temperature has started to rise. Dallas is only about an hour away and then we make our turn south. We make quick work of it and get into Rockwall where we cross the Ray Hubbard Lake. Traffic slows to a crawl here as construction has the far left lane merging, always a recipe for slow traffic. It doesn’t take too long to get out of it but I’m starting to bake in the heat I haven’t missed.

The road never takes us close to the city, I never even see it in the distance, but the traffic is definitely city traffic. It flows at a good speed but we can’t really move like I want to. It’s not long before I run into more crawling traffic and begin to bake again. This time there’s fire trucks and ambulances riding up behind us on the shoulder, this can’t be good. It’s is however a good sign that I shouldn’t be stuck in traffic for too long. If emergency vehicles are coming in behind us it means whatever accident has happened has happened very recently and we’re already in the front end of the jam. It doesn’t take long for us to reach it, looks like a single car crash and it appears that everyone is okay.

We finally get back up to highway speeds and make our turn south on I-35E. Won’t be long before we’re on I-35 and in the home stretch. The miles are slowly falling away and I’m trying my best not to stop but I haven’t had any water today and I’m getting parched. I stop quickly for a bottle of water and to rest my butt for a moment, we’re just at a hundred miles from home.

Traffic has lightened up considerably at this point so, as long as they feel, the miles are falling by quickly. We make it onto I-35 and are now in the how stretch. Familiar towns start to fly past, Abbott, West, and Elm Mott. Waco approaches quickly but I feels like an eternity. I pull off for lunch inside of town, I’m not looking for anything special and have decided the rules no longer apply. I just need some food, a cold beer wouldn’t be objectionable either. I decide on Hooters again. The atmosphere is always nice here and the view is usually pretty good, it’s what they’re known for really. But it’s really more of a memory thing for me. Eating here always brings back memories of working in the kitchen and of course meeting the love of my life, she was a Hooter’s girl. Still can’t convince her to put the uniform back on though.

Lunch takes longer than it should but I’m only about 30 minutes out, I should still be able to beat the kids home from school. Traffic is a bit heavy through town but isn’t bad. We’re able to make it through quickly and before long hit the Bell County line, the last county line to cross. At this point I’m counting down the exits, each one seems to be further and further away from the last.

We soon hit the Temple City sign, I’m now back in town. Just a few miles to home. I finally make it into my driveway. It’s been a long 300 miles but I’ve finally made it back. I walk in the door and greet my youngest who has beat me home, then assault my wife with as many hugs and kisses as she’ll allow. I’ve missed all of the family of course but I’ve missed holding my woman in a terrible way this year.

I begin to unload Libby, fully this time, and await the next child to come walking around the corner. I finally see her, walking home from school, and fully expect her to jump into a sprint but she doesn’t. She sees me from the end of our street and waves, then casually walks to the house as if it’s any other day. She’s entirely excited to see me but she ain’t gon be runnin’ if she doesn’t have to.

My oldest is soon dropped off by his friends and we have a very brief conversation about his fantasy football weekend before he disappears inside the house. I continue to unload Libby, I basically have to setup camp one more time to clean my tent. I hose off the bottom and let it dry before setting it back up to let it air out and sweep the floor. The family remains inside playing with the birthday/anniversary gift I got my wife. It’s been sitting in a brown box on the counter for almost a week but she loves it. It’s a calendar that will sit on the counter and links to all our phones so we can check it on the go or add to it on the fly. It’s been unboxed for a couple of hours now and we’re all already amazed by it, Skylight is the brand if you’re interested.

I’ve got most everything done now. My dirty, definitely smelly, clothes are in the wash, both bikes are nestled into their respective places in the garage and my tent is clean and packed away for the next time I need it. Tan lines are strong in the usual places. I’ve got the standard tan lines from my glasses but since I actually shave on this trip I don’t have the other facial lines. I do have a slight tan line on my wrist from my emergency bracelet. It tends to ride up my arm and outside of my gloves. If you ride much I highly recommend getting one, the service isn’t expensive at all. It’s a rubber bracelet just like you see many people wearing today but it has a metal tag on it. The tag has my name, year of birth, emergency contact (wife) and emergency contact info for the company. The company has a website where you can input all your medical information, what you’re allergic to or what medications you’re on, all the things a paramedic might need to ask you if you’re in an accident and can’t answer. I highly recommend it. I wear the bracelet on long rides like this but also have a dog tag around my neck that I wear daily along side one of Dad’s army tags. The company is RoadID, check them out.

I feel like I should be getting paid after those last two paragraphs. But everything is mostly done. All I’ve really got left to do is shower and get a real shave in. Libby definitely needs a bath this weekend and the back yard is a forest so that’ll need to be remedied soon. I’m back home where the roads a re familiar and tomorrow will return to work. I haven’t missed it but I know it’s missed me, there will be plenty to catch up on. I’ll likely spend one night this weekend regaling my friends and neighbors about my adventure, telling stories of things they’ll likely never experience. That’s greatest part about stories, you may never experience it but you can hear about it and imagine it in your own mind. I love listening to others tell their stories and I love telling mine, though they may be a long winded, it’s an inherited trait.

I know I’ve said it before but it’s a big thing with me now, listen to the stories. It may be the guy sitting next to you at the bar…listen. Could be your friend or your parent or grandparent….listen. Hear they’re stories and share yours. When it comes to your loved ones, listen to that story you’ve heard enough times to tell it yourself, it’s not the same story when the actual storyteller is gone.

It’s been another good trip this year, a lot of rain but still good. It’s always good for me to get away for awhile and reset myself, to find myself again. And my wife couldn’t be better, she knows I need this and allows me to do it without question. I couldn’t love her more for that. She’s the absolute bet thing that ever happened to me, aside from motorcycles of course. I’m unsure of what I will plan for next year but I will see you all then. Stay safe and rumble on!