We cruised all the I’s today – Iowa, Illinois, Indiana. This was a big day on the road, and for the first time we couldn’t find a place to camp overnight. We made it to Indianapolis, much farther than I thought we’d have the stamina for, only to be shut out of the two campgrounds in town. Indy doesn’t have a lot of choices, and neither did we. So we had to continue moving south, which kept us on the road well after dark.
It’s been a bit of an adjustment coming from the sparsely populated western states back to the bustling Mid-West. We got used to having the wide open spaces to our self, seeing mostly RVs, motorcycles, and cowboy pickup trucks on the road. It felt like a camaraderie – yeah, we’ve all spat with the rattlesnakes and shat with the grizzlies. There’s dust on our tails from the long, long trail.
But now that we’re back in the citified world, we seem out of place. Rolling slowly along in our cumbersome coach, wearing grubby jeans and a flinty look in our eyes. We get stares instead of a nod, honks instead of a friendly wave.
We left on our Wild West excursion in late summer, and are now returning at harvest time. Farmers are busy with their giant corn picking equipment, leaving the fields shorn and stubbly.
We’ve been asked a bunch of questions about our trip already. Here’s the most popular –
Did you have a good time?
Did you meet any interesting people?
No. Two reasons why –
1. Campers are on the move. They pull in, eat dinner, and close the curtains.
2. We’re not friendly.
How did Shadow like being on the road?
He hardly complained.
Didn’t you get on each other’s nerves?
Seldom was heard a discouraging word.
And then our favorite, from strangers in various towns…
Did you ride that scooter all the way from Kentucky?
Nope, only halfway!