Big Long Ridiculous Day

Friday morning I left my crappy motel in Kimbal, SD and come hell or high water, I was gonna make it to Chicago. Holy hell, it was brutal.  

Really, an insane amount riding for one day. Siri told me I’d arrive at 10pm and by God I arrived at my brother’s place at 10pm. 

A word on the motel….moist floors. Ok, two words, smart asses. 

 
I’m getting used to shitty motels. I’ve got some experience. For example, see exhibit A from Santa Cruz…

But the worst offense is wifi that doesn’t actually work. If I can’t check my FB messages or stream an episode of Firefly on Netflix, I get pissy. I’ll take blood stains and food in the sink over crappy Internet. 

   Once again that was a hotel in Santa Cruz. Total scum hole. The Santa Cruz trip was a good day of hanging out and drinking by the ocean, though. All things are relative.

   This place in Kimbal was cheap. I appreciated that part. But, through out the entire night there was a humming vibration in the room. A sound you mostly feel that’s hear. What the hell would cause that? Turned out to be a generator out by the road. Good times. I still got 8 hours of beautiful sleep. I needed it for the hell ride to Chicago. 

“Hell” in this case was just intense flatland boredom. Farmland. Prairies. More farmland. 

After leaving the intense landscapes of the badlands, it was too much contrast. How do people live out here? 

    
 It really was spectacularly depressing and stunning scenery. It often makes me wonder how the hell settlers got past this shit? I would’ve come across this hellish site and given up completely. No wagons are going through that! It goes on forever. Crazy. 

The rest of the ride to Chicago was all about managing boredom, hydrating, fill ups, eating on occasion, and not quitting. As I feared before the trip even started, the Interstate system is mind numbing. Trucks, more trucks, campers, and more trucks. All doing 80 miles per hour for hundreds of miles. Then you hit the first wave of Wisconsin drivers. Good lord. 

Wisconsin is lush and green and less boring than the 2nd half of South Dakota or the entire stretch of Minnesota that I-94 passes through. No pictures except this rest stop. I was on a mission.  

 After more long ass riding the minutes turn to hours and everything goes dark. You’ve arrived in Illinois and the first of many state run panhandlers… 

 Toll booths every 5 miles or so. Ha. I guess this is to support the entire state being turned over by construction vehicles and rebuilt from scratch. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Needless to say I made it to Chicago. Drank my last remaining beer, and ordered a pizza. 

 A fine day to a long hellish day. 675 miles. A new record for me on the Spyder. 

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About heartajack

I'm a graphic designer and occasional filmmaker that recently discovered the awesomeness that is the Can-Am Spyder Roadster. In recent years I've become obsessed with food and learning how to prepare it. I make the best damn ribs...EVER.
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