The Road To Rolla

16 hours on a motorcycle over the course of the weekend will take it out of anyone.

First off, wow. The word fun doesn't really capture it, but it has definately been an experience. Couple of close calls, some stomached fear of a wet and bumpy road, and the road between Jefferson City, MO and Rolla MO was the most entertaining part of the trip. Sweeping 70 MPH turns, cutbacks, ups, downs, and a jerk who blinded me nearly right off the road.

Let me break this down for you stage-by-stage:

Manhattan KS to Lawrence KS:

Literally 10 minutes into the ride, I contemplated turning back and going to get my car. I was thinking it was a terrible idea. The great part about the whole trip was that I was racing the weather the whole way there. I stopped in Lawrence, and when gassing up I could see the clouds rolling east. I haven't seen a cloud do 70MPH, so I just turned up the throttle, and took off.

Lawrence, KS to Warrensburg, MO

I would get little drops here and there, as new cloud formations would form on top of me, but I managed to stay ahead of the storm. I stopped in Warrensburg for a fill-up, a sandwich, and a coffee and smoke. Standing there, the rain caught me after 20 minutes of rest. I hopped back on and was stopped by a State Trooper about 10 miles outside of Warrensburg. He was a nice guy; gave me a warning and told me to slow down. Checked my ID for a motorcycle license; that was kosher. Outstanding warrants; that was not an issue. I chuckled when it started rainin' again.

"Man, I just beat this weather, and here it is again."

He handed me my license and told me to go beat it. We'd talked a little about where I was going, and he knew I still had a long trip ahead of me. I wish I would have gotten his name. He was a considerate officer of the law.

Warrensburg MO to California MO

This leg passed me through Sedalia, which is a nice little town. Was good on gas, so I didn't stop here, just kept on into the countryside down Highway 50 to California.

There I stopped at the BP that I always stop at on the way to Rolla. Was getting tired, so I stopped, grabbed a sandwich, some smokes, and a mint coffee. Good stuff. Talked with some of the guys there for a little bit. Nice guys. Some dude walked in with half his face looking like it just got stepped on. The left side of his face was all chewed up and there was blood all over his shirt. The guy at the counter seemed to know him:

"Man, what happened to you?"

"I just got my ass kicked about 5 minutes ago. Where's the Bud Light?"

"Over there. Who did it?"

"Tim."

"Oh shit."

About that time the rain caught up to me, and it was back on the bike. While I was sliding my helmet over my head, 6 cop cars passed, sirens blaring, down 50. Great.

California MO to Rolla MO

This had to be the best part of the trip. And by best, I mean also the most life-threatening. Leaving California to Jefferson City uneventful. Those 6 cop cars were returning back to California, and apparently something big went down about 2-3 miles outside of Cali. Heh. Check the papers or something.

Got to Jeff City, and the rain was trying to catch up to me. I was getting specs on the visor as a roared along. Passed through JC without comment and hit the last leg of this part of the journey. Highway 63 segways from 4 lanes to two about 4 miles outside Jeff City. It then turns into a hell of a rollercoaster ride for someone unfamiliar with the route. With the wet road, the sprinkles trying to catch me, and other drivers, I was quivering slightly from the healthy fear that was rising in my stomach.

There was quite a scare about 5 miles after the off-ramp to Rolla from JC. I was coming up around a bending corner that also rose up the hill coming left to right, then cutting back left once over the crest of the hill. I had my highs on, and was leaned over in the corner. I saw a car coming, so I killed the highs and let my bike slide slowly over to the outside of the lane. The car apparently thought I still had my highs on, as it double-flashed me at the top of the hill.

Combine the bright lights, the plastic that already distorts the light, and the beads of water that had gathered on the helmet, and I was BLIND. I couldn't see anything, I just improvised in the corner. The next time I had my faculties about me ( and we're talking a matter of seconds here), I was careening at 70MPH in the direction of the ditch.

Instinct kicked in here. I was on the back brake in a slide, the front wheel still tracking it's forward direction; It was a hard-forced fish-tail. At the same moment, I snapped the handle bars into the direction I wanted to go, and throttled the gas hard. The bike kicked, snapped into the direction I wanted to go, and I was back on the road. At that very moment, I made a promise with the bike that if she got me home safe, I would give her a name.

The excitement after that was the general 70+MPH through corners with large yellow 45MPH signs setup right before them. I was still beating the rain, but I ultimately lost about 5 minutes outside Rolla. I could see lighting rippling across the clouds to the East, and every time I came out of a forested area, I could see they were bearing down on me. At the last long strip of 63 before the Rolla city lights, I was hit by the wrath of the storm. The bike was shaking under gusting winds, and my visor was filled with shooting blasts of Lighted Rain Drops of Death(TM). I was getting pelted and thrown around in the storm, but I wasn't stopping this close to being there. Got in, Carl cooked me a pizza, we went and got some Red Bull, and I got a good vodka drunk, then visited with Carl for a while before passing out.

Look for more details later this evening about the rest of the weekend.