I must be in the groove as the days and places are starting to run together like a watercolour painting. I haven't worn a watch, looked at the newspapers, watched television or listened to the radio since I left Vancouver. The Best Western I stayed in last night offers a complimentary breakfast so I head down there to check out the fare. Oatmeal? Check. Boiled eggs? Check. Toast and lots of tea? Double check. Everything I like is here. I've got my breakfast made and I'm siting at the table and I'm drawn to the television mounted on the wall. It's tuned to CNN and there is a report about a hurricane, Irene, heading up the Eastern Seaboard. Running up the coast from the Carolinas with an expected path to New York and Boston. Hey! Wait a minute! That's exactly where I'm heading! What am I going to do? They're showing how an evacuation of New York would look in the event of landfall there. How do you evacuate one of the largest cities in the world? Where do they go? Will they go? If an evacuation of New York is a possibility then I better come up with an alternative. A motorcycle on a collision course with a hurricane is not going to fare well. Plan B, C, D and E all spring to mind and I'm left in a quandary as to what to do if this storm does all it is expected to. Looking at the dates and times laid out by the Weather Bureau gave me some leeway. Irene was expected to be in the New York area around the coming Sunday, the 28th. I'll still be in Knoxville then so hopefully the hurricane will have passed or better yet blown out to sea. So I'm sticking with my original plan, the one you read about it Part I, and will continue on to Knoxville and we'll see what pans out.
Spearfish is just up the highway from Rapid City so I hop on the Slab, passing by Sturgis, home of one of the largest motorcycle rallies in North American and likely the world. I'm not sure what is larger rally, Daytona or Sturgis but they're both huge. This year's rally was a couple of weeks ago but that suits me fine. I'm not a big crowd person and the town would have been a zoo. A couple of friends from Vancouver rode down this year and I hear they had a great time. Since Mount Rushmore is just around the corner so to speak I set a GPS route to the national monument and see how it has changed since I was last there with my family in 1995. The road steadily climbs out of Rapid City. Along the way you pass all the tourist traps hungrily reaching out for you vacation dollar. There were water slides, miniature golf, horseback riding, Go-Karts, golf courses, trinket shops, T-Shirt stands, used car lots, gun shops, liquor stores, hotels, motels, bed and breakfast inns. Too many to list. Somehow I don't recall all this third party commercialism sixteen years prior. I stop in Keystone for some gas and from there is a quick set of hairpins up to the park. Coming round the corner the first thing I see is a toll booth. That wasn't there last time. I roll up and the woman demands $11.00. I counter with my National Parks Annual Pass knowing that the pass will waltz me into any National Park, Monument or Historical Site. When it come to national recreational places I have carte blanche. The toll keeper crisply informs me my pass is not applicable. This is a private parking area and it was $11.00 in case I'd forgotten. Sighing I fork over the money and I'm through. I have to take another hard left turn and there is is multi-storey parking lot rivaling any parking lot in a downtown city building. When did this happen? Back in '95 the parking lot was something like 4 lanes with a centre divider and parking on both sides. Now it's five stories with each floor now three times the size of the original lot. As luck would have it I'm there fairly early and score a prime spot right by the stairs. A couple of short sets of steps lead you to the long stone walled avenue leading to the front viewing area. The walls are decorated with photographs of the historical carving process. At the end of the avenue is a plaza, surrounded by flags in a theatre style setting. The faces of the famous look down upon you. The gift shop has also been outsourced to a third party so the souvenirs abound. The 1995 era gift shop was a far cry from today's department store sized emporium. Despite all the ancillary hype the mountain never ceases to impress me.
My GPS starting acting up today. The unit was displaying error messages that the power source was not there and the battery was failing. I knew it wasn't the DC power source on the bike as I had been charging my cell phone with no issues. I was not sure if it was the GPS's cradle charger unit or the cable itself. When I checked in the hotel that night this proved to be the correct diagnosis because when I wiggled the cable it fell out and the corresponding contact from the cradle fell out too. No problem. At least it wasn't the GPS unit and only a cheap part that I could probably pick up at a Best Buy later on.
Highway 385 was hot, windy and boring. I laboured south to Highway 26 and opted for a more scenic route along The North Platte River. It was OK and I rolled into the town of North Platte late in the day.
The temperature was still in the upper nineties so I chicken out and grab a motel just off the Inter-Slab, opting for a hot shower and a cold refreshing beverage. The cool motel also gave me the chance to answer some e-mails, work on the blog and get a good night's sleep. I knew tomorrow would bring more of the same hot windy riding so I wanted to be well rested for this endurance test.
Good night.
The next morning came quickly. I hit the shower, grabbed a tea from the lobby breakfast counter and hit the road after checking the tires and fueling up. Eastbound I-80 was fast and busy. This Inter-Slab pretty much runs across the centre of the country bisecting north from south. Tired of the flat treeless plains I was hammering it across Nebraska as quickly as I could. I stopped in Grand Island to get a cradle and cable for the GPS at Best Buy. It turns out my GPS isn't as current as I'd thought and guess what; parts aren't available off the shelf. I could maybe get what I needed on-line but I was "no-fixed-address" so that was out of the question. Like a kid in a candy store my eyes got drawn in by the new slim-line GPS units. Ones that utilised USB cables to connect to external power, not an internal power source. I select one with a "Maps For Life" feature, Blue Tooth, and software that displays topographical features and a whole myriad of other features I've still yet to discover.
Another mishap challenged my patience later that afternoon. Remember in Part I when my Thermos got destroyed? Well I had since replaced it with a shiny new stainless steel unit and it was proving successful. I stopped for my lunch of noodles and much to my dismay found the cup lid had worked itself loose and was M.I.A. somewhere on the Inter-Slab in the middle of Nebraska. This trip was proving to be hard on me and my gear.
I finally made it across the state, hopping off I-80 at Lincoln and taking Hwy 2 to Nebraska City. I was eager to leave this desolate place when out of nowhere the road comes to a complete stop. Closed. Barricaded. Nowhere to go and no instructions on how to go somewhere else. So I ask the GPS for a solution and it says, go north and catch Hwy 34. I trust my fate to the GPS, who should know where to go right? I mean it is it's job. Off I ride and ride and ride and ride until I get to the suggested turn. Well guess again Stevie Boy. The road is closed. I've disliked Nebraska from the onset and it seems it still had it's life-sucking claws in me. I'm doomed. Destined to dry up and rot here. I finally figure out what is going on. I am on the western side of the Missouri River where all the flood devastation has recently occurred. Now I knew what was going on. There is a sign system just around the corner clearly marking out the detour route around the flooded area. Armed with a new confidence I scold the GPS for not giving me a better escape. The state line is fast approaching, I turn left on a downward bend and there's a sign saying in no uncertain tones. "Stop. Pay Toll" I somehow muster a smile thinking Nebraska had the last laugh and scooped a dollar out of my pocket for the right to leave it's borders.
The problem with Nebraska is it doesn't cater to tourists or anything related to tourism. Nobody wants to go there. It is strictly a place you pass through. Since nobody goes to visit they don't do anything to invite visitors. There is an obvious lack of tourist infrastructure. Nebraskans are reluctant to put mileage on the road signs. They do not promote any local historical places. There are no picnic areas on the roadsides. Parks and campgrounds are few and far between. The hotels are cheerless and austere. Food stops are fast and unappealing. They look at tourists as aliens among them and are barely tolerant of their presence. The downturn in the economy may have hit Nebraska harder than some other states. The roads are in poor upkeep and in the small, off the beaten track towns businesses are boarded up and decaying.
You know business is bad when the only bar in town closes up.
Down the hill I cross an old bridge and am greeted by the long waited "Welcome To Iowa" sign. At this point I'm down on the flood plain and the destruction is horrific. There are barns with water up to the second story hayloft. The tops of houses are peeking out of the water like the keels of overturned boats. This havoc stretches on and on as far as I can see. I take back all my moaning about losing half a day due to detours when I see what all these local residents have lost.
I get clear of the flood area, get back onto I-29 and I'm steaming south to Kansas City. It's getting late. 8:30 or so. The light's fading fast and so am I. My mantra comes to mind, "If you think you're tired you already are." Sternly tell myself, first exit I come to. First motel I come to. I hop off the "Slab" and wheel into the Days Inn where I conveniently have a discount coupon. Whoopie! Hot shower, cold refreshing beverage, emails, chat with Lori and my day's done. I'm free of Nebraska, safely in Missouri, the air is moist, the people are super friendly and I'm another day closer to Knoxville.
I'm ready for bed. Lights out.
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