Wednesday, August 09, 2006
To Loudly Go
Day 8 Wednesday, August 9, 2006 285 miles.
To Loudly Go
Where No Harley Have Gone Before.
Well, I’ll make two corrections to that statement and, no, I’m not fixing the split infinitive.
First, I put the stock (quiet) pipes on my Harley for this trip.
Second, while there aren’t NO Harleys on the road from Minneapolis, there weren’t many. Maybe, because of Sturgis, it’s like your toilet: once you flush and all the crap drains, all you see is the ring around the bowl. Well, whatever, it was a nice try.
My agent, Laurie, and I headed out west this midmorn on Hwy 7 and turned north on 71. The plan was to have lunch in Willmar and she would head back to meet her boyfriend and I would keep going north to I-94 and take it to Fargo.
So what is going on in northwest Minnesota? Not much. Fields and fields of hay. But I didn’t see many cattle. Maybe it’s too cold here and they just bale the hay and ship it out. One of Annie Proulx’s short stories in Close Range was about a man hauling hay to Wyoming from either Wisconsin or Minnesota. A ranch owner needed hay for her horses because of drought, so she hired a ne’er-do-well to go pick up a long-neck trailer’s worth. On the way back, he throws a cigarette out the window and it sets some of the hay on fire. He drives a truckload of smoldering hay across two or three states, flaming embers flying off and starting fires all along the way. I think she said something like he was a meteor racing backwards against the night sky or something.
Well, anyway, I can see how this part of the country supplied the hay; there is enough for the whole world it seems.
Ended up in Fargo, ND. Could have driver farther but wanted to go take a look at the old downtown.
Pic is of Laurie. Other is of me with too much time on my hands.