Hit the road at 630. Missouri went fairly uneventfully until st Louis. Something I can only assume was a car was self immolating on an overpass as I passed under. I pondered how many emergency vehicles the structure could support. The closer to the city proper, I noticed these tread brick houses, three or four the size of those I’d admired in reno, the stoops weren’t as friendly, though. I rode by the arch and failed to find a place to park and boot my phone to get a decent picture. A picture was in fact taken, but it’s shit and posted for posterity below:

Interesting. Turns out I didn’t take a pic.
In Illinois I noticed another of the massive windmill blades hauled on a flatbed that I think I forgot to mention. Or maybe I did. There were maybe nine of these in Kansas. At the base they’re probably a good ten feet and about as long as two regular tractor trailers.

In Indiana I ran out of gas. I told myself I could make it to the next town, but that town didn’t have much in the way of anything but the smell of manure.

Sputtered out on the worst offramp to sputter out on. Had to push uphill for about half a mile, not including the couple steep parts I jiggled the petcock and coaxed a start for.

In the station, huffing and puffing, some old fucker (no offense to the elderly or sexually active, and certainly not those lucky enough to be counted among both) asked, “was that you pushing the bike?”

Huff. Puff. Yeah. Huff.

“Man, I saw that and thought it sure must suck to be you! I bet you won’t run out of gas again!”

Huff puff. No. Huff puff.

Because I was seriously thinking of doing it more often for the sake of meeting more such helpful pragmatist tools.

Someone had stopped to help right when I stopped, but had no means to deliver the fuel necessary. He wished me luck and I thanked him before I got pushing.

It was kind of refreshing to be passing through states in just a few hours each. Especially since Kentucky was next. The country was beautiful, but Louisville at least, seemed cluttered not just with trash but humanity as well. Then again I suppose that’s the idea behind the city as a concept. And I really didn’t get out so if there was any charm I didn’t get to see it.

About the time I hit west Virginia the sun began one of the longest and most gorgeous setting performances I’ve ever seen, painting an amazing pastel watercolor of pinkorangeblue.

Then the sun disappeared and almost immediately the rains began. They’d accompany me until I dismounted for good.

Virginia wasn’t much other than dark. Luckily the Appalachian range isn’t nearly is formidable as the rockies or sierras. Occasionally the clouds were thin enough to allow the moon to illuminate small valleys filled with fog. Even in the day time, though, there wasn’t any place to pull over.

Google maps is a pile of shit and I’m probably somewhat mentally deficient for listening to it. I’m sure I could have found a better route. Maryland’s web of roads is terribly inefficient, though, in its defense.

Got to my buddy’s house at about 555. I didn’t note the mileage, but I’ll edit it in.

Edit: 19,845.2

This time I mean it: no more mountain passes at night. That shit sucks. One good thing though: the shower i took when i got in was without a doubt the best solo shower I’ve ever participated in.

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