It’s All A Blur…Day 3!

It’s Friday night. I’m in North Platte, Nebraska. This town seems so familiar to me. Have I been here on a previous Epic Ride? Did my mom and I stay here when we moved her out to Reno? I don’t know. I’m eating an ok pulled pork and spicy jalapeño sausage sammich. Pork is dry, but the sausage is damn good. I need to recall the events of July 18. 

It’s all a blur. One day bleeding into the next. Days feel like weeks. I’m seven days into my road adventure and my Reno life feels like a distant memory vaguely recalled over a 3rd whiskey sour acquired in a pretentious eatery that has no business being in the middle of nowhere Utah. I used to have a dog and a few cats, or some shit. Anyway…

Leaving St George was uneventful, although I suspect I lost my tinted visor and water bottle somewhere between here and Zion. Luckily I’m wearing my cheap HJC helmet and not the Shoei. 

Temperatures were reasonable, dare I say, comfortable. That is until I got closer and closer to Zion.

Hurricane, Utah. 

Rockville, Utah.

The Watchman Wilderness Study Area. 

I rolled on into Zion around 2pm and got an inadequate burger at this joint. 

But then things took a turn for the awesome. The colors and the  immensity of the landscape is something else.
Was gonna finish this post at the McDonalds in Lexington Nebraska, but I gotta get out of this fucking state. Just witnessed 2 old white shitheads try to pick a fight with an older Mexican guy that was sitting next to me quietly drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. This shithead right here. 

The Mexican guy had gotten up to throw his trash out, when Ballcap here started harassing him. Saying the guy hit him. He started waving his fist in the the guy’s face and calling him a pussy. The Mexican guy went to the counter, maybe to complain. I don’t know. Ballcap starts taunting him “yeah, scratch your balls!” There’s a bunch of people in line, kids, truckers, old folks. They all stair at the old asshole. No one says anything.  He then says to his buddy, “if they come to this country, they gotta play by our rules.”

This whole situation made me sick to my stomach. I haven’t felt this anxious in years. I got up, leaned over to the bigot and told him to stay classy. He glared at me. I then complained to the manager. She looked concerned and headed over to the two old bastards. Not sure what frappe bed next. I got the hell out of there. 

Fuck Donald Drumpf and all the people he emboldens. This isn’t going to be a majority white country on 20 years. Might as well get used to it. 


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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