Day 3 After Dark

Today was an amazing day. It was just how I pictured driving across the country. The sun overhead, the road cutting through undulating hills of Middle America, and no destination. Well, one destination.

I started by driving through St. Louis. Bojangles took me right by the arch, so I decided to go check it out on foot. I put the travel tripod from Mom and Dad to good use. This picture shows how far I can run in 10 seconds.

Then I drove through all of Missouri, and all of Kansas, and into Colorado. I-70 likes Jesus and hates Abortions. Kansas offers an incentive program for striking a highway worker. Sort of reminiscent of the childhood game of assigning points to various objects. "200 points for the biker." "500 points if you leave their shoes in the road." I wasn't able to read the signs fast enough, so I'm not sure what the reward was. And unfortunately I never saw any workers out there, so I didn't get to cash in. But it sure looked like a lot of money!

I found the Patriots game on an AM station, and every time the station I was listening to faded out of range, I was able to find another broadcast. I used the POI finder on Bojangles to look up things with the word "sports" in them, in Denver, hoping to find a sports bar where I could watch the last quarter and a half (can I say that?) of the game. It plotted a place that looked promising, but I never did find it. Instead I wandered into an Applebee's and sat down at the bar with my laptop to watch the game. Dork much?

After a few calls, I found a place west of Denver that had a room. I booked it over the phone, and then booked it to the inn.

Yesterday, Kentucky wowed me with it's 70 mph speed limit. Today, Colorado upped the ante to 75mph, at 7,000 ft, around curving, mountainous roads. At this rate I just hope I can handle whatever Las Vegas throws into the pot.

I've driven a car for like 10 years now. I have never felt more afraid of my own driving abilities than I-70 west of Denver. Holy shit. The views were gorgeous, even in the dark, in my peripheral, as I concentrated on not dying. I wished someone else where there - not to take pictures of the breathtaking views, but to sit there and be amazed for the both of us. He could sit there with mouth agape, just stammering so I could get on with the driving.

And of course, like every 27 year old red blooded american male, I entered into a contract at or very near birth. This contract lays out certain lifelong responsibilities I must fulfill, including driving at least 5 miles per hour over the posted speed limit at all times. It's a duty that I've performed diligently all my life. Maybe Colorado men get a different contract, or an addendum.

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Tomorrow: skiing/snowboarding at Breckenridge.


Mike Machenry said...

Sweet, it sounds like the tires for my new tall bike are finally being shipped out.