Took a run up into Arkansas, dicking around up in the mountains and hills and forests till daylight petered out - a night in some raggedy-assed motel out in the boonies where I slept like a dead man, (still too chilly at night to just roll in a blanket next to the bike,) then back across Oklahoma, down into the flats and through places with names like DeQueen and Broken Bow and Swink and Bokchito. I crossed the Red River into Texas at Sowell's Bluff, just north of Bonham, and here is where I had the only problem in an otherwise singularly perfect couple of days worth of riding:
I suddenly realized I was only a couple of hours or so from home. And I wasn't ready to be done yet. If I didn't have to work tonight, I'd have make a U-turn and blasted back across that bridge heading north up through Checotah and Muskogee and Miami and Narcissa and into Kansas City through the back door of Highway 69...and then flip a coin to see where to next.
But I have a real life, too, and I like it, but sometimes it's a pain in the ass.
In Our Next Episode: Other methods of dealing with real life, and how to cut a good deal when the DEA comes.
Swink. I like that name.
ReplyDeleteAnd I can relate to the problem of one life intruding on another - and it's your one life.
I've got several. They leave me blinking in the middle like a retard playing dodgeball.
ReplyDelete