The Road From Iowa

Good fucking God. When you long for the quiet lush green nothingness of Iowa and Kansas, you know you’re in trouble.


I hit the eastern side Colorado and it was pretty clear I was riding into some sort of economic hellhole. Huge corporate farms as far as you could see, broken up by crumbling little towns. Drive through their Main Streets and see boarded up shops, rundown trailers, gas stations with no gas, and abandoned homes. These corporate farms don’t seem to put any money back into the local economies. It was a serious downer that kept repeating itself for miles.

Huge cattle yards that pretty much poisoned the air. My helmet visor was not only covered in dead flies but also a milky brown film of shit. When I’d stop for gas, I’d take off my helmet and my whole person smelled like manure. This combined with the desperate looking people and the ruinous state of these towns put me in a pretty dark mood. Depressed and a little lonely.

Luckily that didn’t last. As soon as the flat economic wasteland turned into the foothills of the Rockies, it got better. Towns were cleaner. Businesses were open. People were milling about. Probably tourism money. No idea.



At my hotel in Cañon City I was getting myself ready for the road when I looked at the ridiculous cocktail of drugs I take before my trips.

I’m a real friggin mess in my old age. Advil, blood pressure meds, fish oil, and Prilosec. Not to mention, halfway through my trip I got a nasty tooth/gum ache. It pretty much ruins my meals. Oh, and the pounding of Advil makes it so I can’t take a quality dump! Wtf! Life is cruel. Too much info. Here’s some pretty pictures from Utah.

  
 And, gambling is ugly. I’ve been drinking my coffee and typing this blog while this guy desperately plays one of those quarter games with the rakes that push piles of coins into a trough. It’s sad. He keeps hitting the machine and pounding on it causing it to sound the “tilt” alarm.

His woman is surprisingly patient and keeps giving him quarters. How much has he dropped into that coin operated scam machine? I gotta get out of here. Can’t take it anymore.

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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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