2023 Wanderer Ride – Day Two

Oh what a day. Quite the boring ride but not entirely uneventful. I’ve managed to contract a minor case of PTSD today, but we’ll get to that later.

I awoke around 7:00 and made a quick run to the rest room before laying back down, didn’t need to, just wanted to. I finally got up and moving a little after 8:00, the neighbors howling dog was not doing me any good. I lazed about for the next hour, slowly tearing down camp. I had a quick conversation with another neighbor out of Tyler, TX. They’ve got an interesting setup and I just had to know more. They’re headed home after spending some time in the same area I’m headed to.

I’m on the road just after 9:00 and decide to head west, Cadillac Ranch is just on the other side of town. I missed it the last time I was through here due to weather so I’ve got to take the opportunity to see it. It’s out of my way but not by much. When I get there it’s already pretty busy. For those who don’t know, Cadillac Ranch is an art installation of sorts. Ten Cadillacs buried up to their windshields and standing up at an angle. It’s been a graffiti artists playground for years. As I pull in I am amazed at how far the graffiti extends. It’s not just on the cars, it’s on the trash cans, all over the access road, on the concrete barriers between the highway and access road and even on the dirt walkway leading up to the cars themselves. Souvenirs and spray paint can be bought on sight and the entire area around the cars smells of paint as several people are tagging away. The hundreds of layers of paint are easily seen on each car, inches thick in some places. It’s certainly a sight to see but I spend no more than ten minutes there before heading out.

We’re back tracking now so that we can head north to Nebraska. This is the only time I’ll be on interstate today. It’s mostly two lane for a while before we finally make it onto some nice divided four lane highway. We’re moving well but there’s still several miles until Oklahoma. Dumas is the first and last real town before the border. Then it’s Cactus, didn’t see a single cactus passing through. And lastly, Stratford.

Oklahoma doesn’t last long and we’re soon into the southeastern part of Colorado, the Comanche National Grasslands. And it’s just that, nothing but yellow grass. The roads in Oklahoma switched back to two lane and the landscape flattened out. There’s not much change in Colorado. The first town we hit is Campo and from there it’s a couple of very long stretches of straight road, little to no shoulder and absolutely nowhere to pull off.

It’s somewhere here in Colorado where the PTSD part comes in. The road has a very small shoulder at this point, no more than a foot wide. Suddenly a small flock of birds, about a dozen, takes off from my side of the road, all of them directly in front of me. I clocked on directly on the windshield, one glanced off my helmet, would have been my face or throat had I not ducked. And a soon found a third had struck my right hand mirror. The next time I looked in it I was staring at my chest and the feathery evidence of his demise was still clinging to the chrome. I doubt the bird that struck the windshield made it either.

This isn’t the first time I’ve encountered bird strikes on the road. I’ve hit a couple with the truck and once took a hard shot to the shoulder from something big, knocked my hand clean off the throttle. But I’ve never taken out this many at once. For the remainder of the day, every bird that takes off from the side of the road has me ducking. I don’t really consider it PTSD but maybe there’s a biker term for it.

At Lamar we hang a right and head east towards Bristol, another 30 mile stretch of straight road and flat land. At Bristol we head north again and again it’s more straight roads. I’m starting to look for a suitable place for lunch but there’s absolutely nothing out here. Every town is just a few buildings, mostly farm related. Gas is even scarce. After several more miles of flat, straight roads, we make it into Sheridan Lake, another small town with nothing to offer, but it does have a small two pump gas station and we need it, Libby’s on empty.

Heading east again is more straight roads but the wind picks up. I’m being pushed all over the place but I’ve experienced worse. It’s just a few more miles into the small town of Tribune, Kansas. It’s here that I finally stop for lunch. I’m getting more and more drowsy and need a break but there’s nothing in the way of decent food so I opt for a gas station sandwich and burrito. It’s not terrible but well outside the rules.

From here we head north again on yet more straight roads, with no real view to look at. We finally make it up to Goodland, the first real town in a long while. It’s even got a Walmart! I’ve got to stop, I can’t fight off the drowsiness and need some caffeine. I spend a good twenty minutes at a truck stop with a Dr Pepper and then hit the road again. It’s just another thirty miles or so until we cut east again. This time to Bird City, no bird sightings here.

From Bird City it’s north into Nebraska. We fill up one last time and continue onto another long stretch of straight two lane. It’s here we run into another bird encounter. This time a solitary flyer takes off from the far side of the road, darts in front and meets Libby head on. This one for sure didn’t make it as I watched it slide back across the road behind me. A lot of words unfit for the ears of children and mothers were spoken, loudly. This is now what I am certain to be three bird kills in one day. That’s the serial killer minimum if I’m not mistaken. I’m even considering changing my road name from “Candyman” to “Bird Hunter”. Dad was “Deer Hunter” and I’ve certainly taken out more birds then he did deer.

The landscape starts to change some as we enter the state. There’s more movement in the road begins to move and the landscape turns to small canyon like views. Enders is the next small town we come to and it’s got a small reservoir that is very active. Boats, jet skis and the reflection of the sun dance amongst the surface of the water. Imperial is the next small town, just a few miles away.

Continuing north is more straight runs, a few curves and plenty of ups and downs but still mostly straight. The speed limit out here is 65 and I’m cruising along at 80. It’s long before I catch up to a sheriff’s deputy. He’s holding a steady 70mph so he’s bound to know I was speeding if I caught up to him. I follow him for just a few miles be for we come to a t-junction. He’s headed right, I’m headed left. At the stop sign I see his window roll down and he sticks his hand out, two fingers down, a definite biker sign so I pull along side him. We have a quick chat, mostly of the heat, before heading in opposite directions. The heat up here has been almost as bad as back home. Nice in the mornings but up to 100 in the afternoons.

We’ve got just a couple more cuts before our final stop for the day, the small town of Grant and then a cut north to Ogallala. The staff here is great which is not abnormal for KOA’s and we spend a few minutes chatting about my day. I’m exhausted and apparently it shows. They recommend a good place for food and football and I’m off to setup camp for the night. Doesn’t take long and I’m soon off to get some real food.

The recommended restaurant is a place called Driftwood. It’s nice. Bright, not too bright but more than most places. Cozy but still able to see someone at the other end of your table. It’s busy but a seat at the bar is almost always open. I opt for a simple club sandwich. It’s nothing special but sounds good at the moment and I don’t need hearty meal right now. It takes some time to get to me but Tiger football is on so I don’t mind. Once it arrives it disappears quickly and certainly hits the spot.

Back at camp now with a fill fire going. It’s filled in a bit since I arrived but it’s mostly quiet. Interstate is just a couple hundred yards away and there’s a truck shop even closer. But the neighbors so far are quiet.

Tomorrow will be a short day. Should only be a little over 300 miles and then the real riding begins. Twisties, cutbacks and pigtails are just few of my favorite things. I can’t wait to get to them, to spark some memories from a decade ago and start sharing them with you. But that’s two posts away.