Saturday, July 2nd
The next day, I fired up the Mustang and we hit the road. About ten miles down the highway, I was babying the gas pedal when Leny asked me "what are you doing"? I replied "what", as he responded, "hit it". So, I floored it. There aren't too many cars that give me goose-bumps, I'm all two-wheels, but this car lit me up as I crushed the gas pedal. Montana back-roads are only as good as the vehicle you're driving and this thing was nasty. Needless to say, we made it to Butte in no time.
We spent most of our day there, then made our way back to Helena to visit with more of our Sturgis friends. A low-key night was much needed on my part, so it was good to relax, have some drinks and good food.
Sunday, July 3rd
The next day, we hit a breakfast spot before heading over to the shop to bolt up my tank and get me back on the road.
My plan was to head to Sheridan, WY for the night, stop in at The Mint Bar downtown, have some cold ones and check out any Independence Day festivities. 370 miles was what lied ahead of me. I cranked it out, making it there in about 5 1/2 hours. When I pulled into the North side of Sheridan, it was a little after 4 o'clock in the afternoon. After talking to some locals and figuring out that nothing was going on as far as 4th of July celebrations, I got the itch to get back on the road. With 5 hours of daylight left, I wasn't about to find a place to bed down and call it a day. So, off I went.
I love Wyoming. Besides all of the Meth Billboards and a few shitty towns along I-25, I love the State. Every time I roll across it, I'm smiling from ear to ear. 415 miles left on the day and I wasn't looking back.
By the time I got to Wheatland, the sun was setting and fireworks were going off all around me. It was an incredible feeling, riding solo across the USA on my motorcycle and having a grand finale exploding in the sky as I made my closing stretch home.
On to Cheyenne, where I felt like my ass was gonna fall off as I rolled into a truck-stop. I took a good, long break, even a cigarette as I sipped a cup of coffee to get my nerves back. As I laid on the concrete, a guy on a bagger pulled up and started wiping all of the bugs off of his fairing. Some fool in a van came walking by and made a comment about how many bugs hit his windshield, I could only laugh. Proof that most people have no clue how easy they have it in their a/c, leather interior, cruise control cages of boredom.
From there, I tucked in behind a SUV to protect myself from bugs, wind, and an always possible deer crossing. As I got closer to home, I hit every red light on my way into town when all I wanted was to see the inside of my garage before I deliriously ran myself off of the road. I made it home and was greeted by hundreds, yes hundreds on flies in my apartment... left the garbage sitting for two weeks, whoops... a killing spree ensued.
Freedom is the main reason I embark on these journeys. Riding down the road on two wheels can make you feel alive, but riding cross-country opens your eyes to both who you are and the human spirit overall. People that don't take chances or live their lives the way they want just don't understand, anyone can do it. Call it free spirited, courageous, living on the edge, whatever. I don't want to look back on my life and feel that it was normal. I do this because it's what makes me happy, it's what makes me feel like I could die at any moment, it makes me feel alive. Some people call it crazy, others envy the lifestyle - I pay no attention to what others think, good or bad, it won't change the way I get my kicks.
Like all of the others, it was a great ride... what a trip it was.
Leny's Mach 1
Montana Mountain Ranges
A good friend I made while visiting, Leny and Murna's Boxer, Boom
Montana Sunsets
"Riding down the road on two wheels can make you feel alive, but riding cross-country opens your eyes to both who you are and the human spirit overall" - I could not have said it any better. I'm right with you on that one. It sums up everything for me. Well put and kick ass.
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