"Dispensation"

August 11 - Friday

“Dispensation”

Am getting ready to leave Glendive and head to Great Falls via Hwy 200. The locals said, “There’s nothing to see” and “Get plenty of gas.” Hate to go this way, but any other way will add a day or so and plenty of beautiful sights await me.

The waitress was grumpy, just what you’d expect in Glendive. But I left her a big tip anyway; I’m leaving in an hour and she’s staying here.

Had bacon this morning. To some of you, it’s no biggie. For me, since I LOVE bacon and pork chops, it’s a guilt thing because I have found out just how cute and smart pigs are. It’s like eating your dog. But, occasionally, and esp. while on the road, I will have a weak moment. A friend-lady of mine said, “Well, you can give yourself a dispensation.”

I said, “dispensation?” That’s when you do something that, for you at least, you know is wrong?

She said, “Yes. You take a break from your vows.”

I said, “Now, this is a Catholic word, right?”

Anyway, the market is not cooperating this morning and I can’t call clients cause cell coverage is bad here (it’s bad HERE, wait till I get 200 more miles into nowhere!) so I’ll finish my coffee and pack up.

Home on the Range

Day 9 August 10 Thursday - 400 miles

As usual, I spent the first two or three hours working with my investment clients in the morning. Then, once I had an idea how the market was moving and that no more calls were needed, I packed up and got on the road.

Headed west out of Fargo into the great unknown. Sky was overcast and soon I was going in and out of light thundershowers. Not worth getting rain gear on, though.

A zillion Harleys were coming back from Sturgis. Felt sorry in a way for them cause they were bucking a headwind whereas I, for the first time, had a tailwind. Just set the cruise control on 75 and fly.

The flat plains of eastern N. Dakota soon began to fold a little, forming gentle undulations that were broken up by pimply-like, worn-down buttes. These high points were not remarkable for their height, being only maybe 100-200 feet high at the most, but they were kind of cool cause they looked like miniature volcanoes, only they were completely covered with grass.

The farm crops changed from corn and soybeans to some type of barley or rye as the land grew more and more dry. They were the quintessential “amber waves of grain.” I saw two deer running through the knee-high stalks and prayed they would not cross the highway in front of me. They ran parallel with I-94, bounding through the field. That was a picture I’d love to have taken.

Moving on through Bismarck, the land roughed up some until the Badlands appeared. Teddy Roosevelt had a park there named for him. I did not take the scenic route through the park because I have to pick and choose where I spend my down time; I have decided to hang out in Glacier National Park and other parks in Washington, Oregon, and northern California. But, I did do the picture thing.

There was plenty of time to think while on the road. I thought about all the apologies I needed to make…it took maybe three minutes…and thought of all the apologies yet to be made to me…it took thirty minutes!! Working on my latest book (will do more copy editing changes tonight) and ideas for existing stories and new stories. It’s great to get away from the radio and phone.

Ended up in Glendive, Montana. Trying to figure out which way to go tomorrow. More I-94 to Billings and then up to the NE corner, or up now then over. Will have to sleep on it.

Glendive is not where you want to spend the rest of your life. It’s on the Yellowstone River but there is nothing I can point out that would make me want to stay here. Yes, being in Eastern Montana it has a glorious sunset, but it’s gonna take more than that for me.

One side of the town is bordered by more badlands. This rugged terrain is really a series of large, mud hills. When it rains, they lose inches of surface soil, and what is exposed is more of the same muddy gray mess as what was washed away. Yeah, time to move on for sure.

Notes on Fargo

Well, surprisingly, Fargo is booming. I’m not sure what the driving force is, but there is a huge amount of new roads and buildings. People are everywhere. Since land is cheap (N. Dakota’s population is something like 500-600,000), the roads and three and four lanes wide in each direction. The talk is that it, like the Twin Cities, has a broad base of businesses. No gambling.

For Jan and Feb the average HIGH temp is around 19-20 degrees!!!!!

Went to the old downtown. Nice, but not especially quaint as some older towns in the west.

I take back what I said about the blondes. This morning, I saw a lady trying to make a waffle on one of the flip ‘em things. You know, it’s a swivel heating device. You poor the mix in, rotate it, and wait for the timer. Well, she was trying to, like, pick the whole damn thing up and flip it. She had a baby in one arm and a little kid standing beside her. The mix was pouring out onto the counter and steam was hissing out around the edges as she was yanking and pulling and twisting on the thing. I asked if I could help and she said, “It says to flip it but I don’t know how to do it.” I just laid the handle back in the cradle and turned it over. She said, “Oh, I didn’t how it was that simple.” SHE WAS BLONDE.

Hey, I shaved my head last night. Well, not totally. And it’s not like I meant to. What happened was that I forgot my beard/hair trimmer and had to go buy one. The little buzzer I got had an attachment that, I found later, wouldn’t really do the job so I took it off and took a shot at my hair with just the blades. Well, it took the hair down to the scalp. So now I have to do the whole thing, right? Oh, well, it’s not like I was looking for hot dates on this trip anyway. Hell, if I put a tattoo on my neck I’d look like a Nazi jail gang member, or else a member of MS-13.

Well, need to run to the Harley shop, grab some oil, do some more investment work, and hit the road. Rain coming later so I need to get down the road.

PS: I can tell that from here I’ll be jumping off into the west. The blank horizon on the west side of town looks the same as the sea outside of San Francisco…fathomless, distant, almost foreboding. It will be like stepping off the edge of the world.

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.

Tall Blondes

Day 7 August 8, Tuesday

If You Like Tall Blondes, Guys

Then Minnesota/Wisconsin is the place for you. The Scandinavian genes run strong in the women, here, so if your thing is for this body type, you’d be in heaven. As for me, of course, there is no particular body/hair type that does it…all I need is someone (female, that is) who is in shape, looks good in a short, black dress, isn’t crazy, and is very smart. That’s not too much to ask, huh? Oh, BTW, I don’t think that blondes are any less smart than redheads or brunettes. Here, they certainly seem able to drive cars and go shopping well enough. And even talk on cell phones to boot.

Minneapolis/St. Paul is a great family town, I understand. Minn is the party side and St. Paul the more reserved side. The roads are great and traffic flows smoothly. Because of the cold weather, there are elevated walkways connecting the buildings so that once you’re downtown you really don’t need to go outside.

I spent a lot of time on the west side of Minneapolis, near Minnetonka, Tonka, and Wayzata. Also wanted to go to Whatsuppa, Wankerwonka, Upyerpooper, but didn’t have time. Will also have to make another trip to Whereamiatta and Wydoiluvya.

Oh, a factoid on the Mississippi River. You know that water flows downhill right? And, you know that, at the Gulf of Mexico, the water is sea level. So, from how high up here in Minn. does the water flow to sea level below New Orleans. Before you look, guess. The answer is that Minneapolis is about 800 ft above sea level. So, in the thousand plus river bed miles from here to N.O. the river drops less than a foot a mile. Gosh, I’d of thought a lot more.

And, the Mississippi here is not the big, grand, river it is there. Here, it’s more like the Red River (that’s in Texas and LA for my Colorado and elsewhere friends).

The pic is of the Cathedral of St. Paul which, though finished in 1958, dates back to 1804.

My Comment on "Comments"

I have enabled the blog to allow "unregistered comments." If you "register" (and I have been told by some that the blog does not allow them to do so) then your comments will (should) immediately show up in the blog. If you don't register, then your comments will be emailed to me (although I won't know who made the comment) and will show up in the blog, hopefully, at a later date.

So, I recommend you try to register as it's kind of cool for all y'all to see what the other has said.

But, either way, send me your comments!! :-)

Mike S.

Comment setting is now changed for ease of use.

Some people have told me that the blog site did not allow them to post unless they jumped through their ass, but after having done so (not a hard job for some) they still couldn't post.

So, I've changed the settings to ease blog comments.

Now, be nice...your mother may be reading your comments! :-)

Mike S.

The Oil We Eat - Miscellaneous Post

I woke up during the night thinking about all the grain fields in Iowa and started reflecting on an article by Richard Manning in Harper’s a couple of years ago. It was titled, “The Oil We Eat.”

Here is the link.

http://www.harpers.org/TheOilWeEat.html

Among many things, he talked about how our modern agriculture methods (he really does a fascinating job on talking about how the cultivation of “packets of energy”, which is what seed kernels are, transformed human societies and cultures) have resulted in our becoming dependent upon the sources of oil necessary to continue to production of food.

I have, of course, greatly oversimplified his article, but you can get the idea.

Pictures are from the Dubuque, Iowa area. A view overlooking the Mississippi, a typical home, and a home for sale $177,500.

My agent told me that we got our "first rejection letter" on the book she is trying to sell for me. I wish she had said, "We got our first response and it was a rejection." ha! I replied, "Fuck them." If I can't believe the story is good no one else is. I remember we had a terrible time selling Soldier Dead and then it has done very well (for the type of book it is). Writing and publishing is a terribly brutal business right now. But, my motto is, "Onwards!"

No Hondas in Iowa

Day 6 August 7 Monday

Well, I hung around Dubuque because it was simply stunning. The town, the oldest in Iowa I’m told, sits mostly on the bluffs that overlook the Mississippi River, but parts of it, including the historic downtown, are lower down near the water. There are the usual gambling boat and old hotels, but the real draw to me was the architecture, which was Victorian brick, just as you would see in Boston. Sure, there were the newer homes, built maybe in the early 1900’s, but many dated from the previous century…or two!

There are three colleges and state-of-the-art medical facilities (necessary for all those farmers working around tractors, I guess!). Grandview Avenue, the main residential drag, runs parallel with the river, but is on top of the high ground. Apparently, this is the street used for joggers and walkers (mostly walkers) for exercise. There were very few bikes.

Riding up the Mississippi now for two days, it is definitely different for me, from the south where the land along the Big Mo is low, to see such high land alongside a river. But the views that result from this geographical arrangement are to die for.

Dubuque’s population is 90,000, which makes it about equal to Boulder, CO. Supposedly, the tech industry there is beginning to catch hold.

And houses, beautiful houses, are dirt cheap. A 4 br 2 ba brick and stucco home with two fireplaces, beautiful hardwood floors, remodeled kitchen, and sitting on a 1 acre wooded lot situated high above the river is listed at $177,500. I’ve included a picture, which does not do it justice.

The other picture is a mansion across from the library.

Leaving Dubuque, I should have taken the river road up to Hwy 52 and gone through North Buena Vista, but instead turned west out of town on 52, just missing Dyersville where Field of Dreams was filmed. Alas. I heard later that the drive was gorgeous.

Hwy 52 led me through rolling high-country hills, all of it farmland. Every time I topped a rise, I was met with a vista of steeples and silos dotting the landscape. Interspersed among the farms were cattle lots that, I believe, were used to feed milk cattle. Most milk operations looked to be fairly small.

This is God’s farm land, providing all the corn, soybeans, milk, and soldiers that we need. Indeed, American flags adorned barns, light posts, and hung from many houses. I imagine more than a few Gold Stars also were affixed to windows.

The shoulders of the highway were wide, packed-gravel affairs on which farmers drove their various pieces of large equipment. And when I entered Minnesota, these wide shoulders were paved for the Amish buggies.

There were no Hondas, Nissans, and Toyotas on the road, only GM, Ford, or Chevy. It wasn’t until I reached the outskirts of Minneapolis that I began to see foreign cars.

I got directions from my literary agent and she and her boyfriend met me for dinner. Their house is on Minnetonka Lake. Interestingly, there are a good number of upscale homes for sale. The talk is that the market is very, very soft and the realtors are starving. I've included a picture of my agent.

Well, I’m off to bed. Will see the Twin Cities tomorrow.

Children of the Corn

Day 5 August 6, Sunday 385 miles

Left St. Louis and headed west to Hwy 79 that led to Hannibal, MO, Mark Twain’s home. The road, called the Great River Road, ran north along the Mississippi. All along it there were signs reminding people of the flood of 1993. If it can’t grow in the Mississippi flood plain in Missouri, it just can’t grow anywhere. Corn and soybeans seemed to be the main crops. (I was destined to see nothing but corn and soybeans today it turned out.)

I passed a ramshackle building (they were pretty much all run down) that had “Christian Disposal” as its name. Missouri has a long way to go to catch Colorado, who would figure out a way to recycle old and depleted Christians.

Occasionally, the road would be covered by giant mimosas (the mimosas seem to grow wild very well there) and it almost seemed like I was back down south where the oaks growing on both sides of the road form military wedding salutes with their limbs touching over the middle of the road.

Hannibal was, well, a little disappointing. It’s a tired, worn-out town that looks like it is fooling itself that it can live on the reputation of Mark Twain. However, I did take pic of some famous landmarks.

I left Hannibal and headed north on 61. Soon, I felt like I had stepped into hell. But, then I realized that I hadn’t even reached Iowa, yet! The land was crap, and stayed that way into southern Iowa: dry, burned up, hot. For two hours I repented, promised God, and did everything I could just to survive. If I lived there, I would not own a motorcycle; I’d use all my money for alcohol and drugs!

Then, I hit Davenport and was pleasantly surprised. What really blew me away were the mansions up on the hill facing the river. They were all situated on HUGE LOTS perched high above the water on a hill. I have to think that the home owners have their money from old farm estates, big businesses, or are from out of state.

After stopping into a biker bar, I got some good advice about how to get on up the road. I noticed that hardly any riders in Iowa wore helmets. Hell, if I lived there I wouldn’t either, hoping to get killed.

But, the last hour from Davenport to Dubuque was great. A nice four lane road, with corn and soybeans everywhere. And I do mean planted in every nook and cranny of open space. But as I got further north, there were more and more places that were not under active cultivation. The land rolled gently, with the light colored green plants and trees becoming a darker green as they flowed down the slopes toward the water in the hollows and draws.

But, god I can see how they made a movie like Children of the Corn. All those fields are just downright spooky. I could imagine getting lost in those fields of green. Speaking of green, that is the ONLY color you see. There is no red, purple, or blue. Only green in a million different shades.

Dubuque looks to be very quaint. The highway dives down between bluffs and runs into the town, which is situated on the Mississippi. I think there are the usual gambling (I mean, “gaming”) boats, but I couldn’t tell for sure as it was getting late. I did, though, notice blocks of townhomes, much like you’d see in the older towns in the east, around the streets close to the heart of town. I’ll check it all out in the morning.

Gateway Arch

Day 4 Aug 5 – Saturday.

It was time to go to the Arch. The Gateway Arch is located on the west side of the Mississippi River, which is on the east side of St. Louis. East St. Louis is a rough place, kind of like North Little Rock and nobody goes there.

The museum is located beneath the arch, under the space between the two legs. The displays in it contained a lot of Go West, Young Man exhibits. But the highlight were the Lewis and Clark Expedition displays. If you’ve not read Stephen Ambrose’s Undaunted Courage, I would suggest it. (Ambrose, who wrote Citizen’s Soldiers and Band of Brothers, has been panned by serious scholars, in part because his research has, at times, been lazy. Before he died, he was accused of plagiarism and, I believe, issued a lukewarm apology.)

The ride up to the top of the Arch was, well, let’s just say that if you suffer from claustrophobia you don’t want to take the itty-bitty tram. Once there, it wasn’t too difficult to think that you could feel the whole structure swaying just a little in the wind.

After coming down, a quick trip to the original riverfront area for lunch was in order. Since a Doctor John’s store was just around the corner, it was too irresistible to not visit. While there (what are all those things FOR anyway?), a woman tried to bring her little girl in. The store clerk had to argue strongly with her about how Missouri law forbade anyone under 18 in a sex store. Like, what was that mother thinking?

Later, it was time for a famous St. Louis thin crust pizza. Delicious.

Then, on to the Forest Park, which is a famous city park. The zoo is there, along with the art museum. There is a statue of King Louis XIV (not sure of the #) in front of the museum. And in front of it there is a body of water called “the basin.” It looks much like the man-made lakes in front of the French palaces, complete with fountains, paddle boats, and canoes.

After that, Ted Drewe’s on the old Route 66 beckoned. It is a famous joint for locals and tourists. They basically serve frozen custard, kind of like soft ice cream. It was good, but you just had to know that it mostly sold its history. But, one thing is for sure, it is a popular stop. So much that police had to direct traffic in and out.

St. Louis actually does not have that many people, but the greater metro area is huge. What has happened is that many townships, or smaller municipalities, eventually expanded until they all met up with each other. Each has its own history and special appeal. You can live in one of the smaller towns and never go out. Webster Grove is just gorgeous, with large oaks and elms, very much like South Highlands in Shreveport, but with even more hills. But, you go only a few blocks in any direction and you run into a major highway.

Tomorrow (Ben Franklin said, “Fish and visitors stink after three days,” I will head out late in the morning after a famous Steak N Shake burger. I’ve decided to go back west on I-70 and then north to Hannibal, MO, Mark Twain’s home.

Crossing Kansas and Missouri (not Jordan)

Day 2 Aug 3

Left Salina, KS at about 8.

Before I left, all the other cycle riders and I were inside the hotel lobby, having coffee and talking motorcycles and weather. The topic of women just didn’t come up! We were all wondering if we could go either east or west because it looked awfully socked in. Just then, we heard a roar, looked out, and saw a string of Harleys going east and another going west. We all just downed our coffees and went to our rooms to saddle up.

Traveling across Kansas I realized that while people may be different in different parts of the country, the cows are always the same. I mean, they all, everywhere, face the same direction while feeding. What’s with that? I guess they graze from one place to another and, well, they’re cattle after all, right?

North Kansas is much prettier than west Kansas. Around Manhattan the land is green, with rolling hills that have lots of draws and creeks. Then, you move on to Kansas City and then into Missouri and the land pretty much looks like north Alabama, Mississippi, and the flatter parts of Kentucky and Tennessee. Corn everywhere. Unlike out west where there is nothing along the interstate for miles and miles, east of Kansas City there were always some businesses in sight along the road. Heavy truck traffic, causing much buffeting. Wind was still from the 10 and 11 o’clock position. Wore me out.

I knew I was coming into St. Louis when I saw a HUGE building that sold only, you guessed it, HUMMERS. Nothing else.

I got my usual salad and chicken for lunch and couldn’t help but notice that I was back in the land of big people. No wonder they drive Hummers.

In Missouri, I immediately noticed that the restaurants had smoking section. Maybe someday they’ll completely ban it in eating and drinking establishments. Also, I expected the restaurants to have a sign that said, “We recommend that our patrons eat responsibly.”

No pictures...nothing of note.

Leaving Louisville, Day 1 Aug 2

Well, I left Louisville at 11 sharp with a Harley loaded down to the gills. The only thing not on it was a passenger, and there was no room for hair dryers and all that nonsense!

Packing up a Harley is a little like making love the first time. You’ve got all this stuff that has to go someplace and you’re not exactly sure how it will all fit. Then, somehow it happens and you’re off and running.

Hit a headwind on 70 heading East. Pretty strong. It was so strong that Dad was being blown all over and I was afraid that I would lose him. So, I had to take him off of his front row seat and store him away someplace safe. (See the expanded pic for the Indian Medicine Bag on the handlebar. In it are my lucky stones and a small zip loc with some of Dad’s ashes.)

But, rolled the miles off. Thank goodness the weather was relatively cool.

The folded foothills and sharp peaks of the Continental Divide faded in my rear view mirror and up ahead the major landmarks that gradually appeared were grain elevators and steeples of the plains churches. The concrete and asphalt carried me into a different political and cultural landscape, too. In Kansas, anti-abortion signs appeared, with one that read, “YOUR mother chose life.”

At one stop, a man came up to me and asked which direction I was heading. When I said east, he said, “Uh oh!” I had looked at the grey, low-lying clouds ahead and figured that I would be running into rain. Sure enough, 70 miles down the road I hit it and the last 100 were in the rain.

Passed three 18-whlrs that must have been blown off the road...all within 100 yds of each other...and another with the top torn off. Sure glad I wasn't in that spot sooner. Some cars and trucks would pass in the rain and the passenger or driver would give me the Thumbs Up sign. Sure enough, after they passed I could see the orange HD emblem in their back window.

Super-8 never looked so good. Now, my Harley is sitting outside in the rain like an abandoned puppy. The riders who got here soon enough were able to park their bikes under a small section of the covered sign-in area.

Met up with an RN from Denver who was riding to Ohio and points further east. He had no windshield and said, “I’m getting too old for this shit!” No kidding.

All in all, 450 miles on a bad day with a late start. I should arrive in St. Louis one day early, which will give me Friday there to work.

So, now’s it’s time to crash. OH MY GOD, I just thought! Dad is out there on the bike in the rain. He’s stowed away, but still, he might be pissed in the morn. Hmmm…I’m sitting here on the bed, butt-naked. Sorry, Dad. I’ll make it up to you…I promise.

(Couldn't get pic to upload...will try later)

Getting ready.

The house is a wreck. But, man oh man it will be fun when I start. OK, here's the deal...I pick up a Penske truck on July 28 and will have a crew help load it that day. I leave on Sat the 29th to drive to Shreveport. Will, fingers crossed, arrive on July 30. Unload on the 31st. Fly back to Denver on Aug 1. Pick up Harley from shop on Aug 2, load, and head east to St. Louis. Let's see how it goes!! then will go north to St. Paul, west to Seattle, south to San Diego, then back to Louisville.