Day 7. Mile 1210. Wichita ks

Val wanted to cook dinner so we settled in for the night. She made chili
with buffalo meet. I've never had buffalo meat so the event was
momenteous and exciting. I like trying new things, which is why I had
venison for my graduation dinner. I won't turn down anything, even if it
looks gross.

Speaking of first times, earlier today I went to a shooting range. I
didn't know what to expect so I was quite startled after the first shot.
The gun went pop, my hand went up, and a neat hole appeared in the
target paper where a person's left eye ought to be. I was impressed with
my head shot, but I was told that head shots are bad. That confused me.
If you're going to shoot someone, the head is the best place to hit.
Where else can you shoot that will incapacitate someone entirely? After
shooting, I told myself that I ought to get a gun one day. They are fun,
but dangerous.

My cash infusion allowed me to purchase a camelback, which also excites
me to no end. My camelback holds about two litres of water, which should
help me immensely once I get into the desert. I won't have to worry so
much about dehydration. A test run shows that the camelback fits inside
my jacket, and with a little work, my left hand can place the tube in my
mouth from beneath the chin guard. I am happy.

While at the wichita association of the deaf, I met world famous mime
bill carwile. He told me about all the people he met and about his
struggles with brain cancer. I was quite impressed and managed to get
his contact info. I think ill hire him for my students.

Val is getting a bit impatient. Ill go.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 7. Mile 1210. Wichita, ks

Sexy, aren't I?

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 7. Mile 1210. Wichita, ks

A sudden cash infusion makes things a bit easier on me. My electrical
system woes continue unabashed, though. I called several area shops and
none of them has a reg/rec in stock. The earliest one can get in is
friday. This was from a honda motorcycle dealership, by the way. I have
decided to push on until the bike bombs out, and then take a bus to
phoenix at the point of bust.

Val and I have met up with a friend of hers. We are headed to a shooting
range. I've never shot a gun before and the thought excites me. I told
her friend that I was a chicago city boy and the only shooting that goes
on there is in a drive by. He was amused. We will be shooting a
springfield x-9, I believe. It looked like a toy and the weight did not
impress me. I'm not sure what I expected, though.

I feel a bit anxious to get back on the road. Its not in me to stay in
one place long.
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 6. Mile 1210. Wichita ks.

Chez Jon?

Fried tofu, with a soy/sugar sauce.
Moz, tomato salad with basalmic/basil dressing and dinner rolls.
Thai noodles in coconut sauce.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 6. Mile 1210. Wichita, ks

Money continues to confound me. What seemed like an unlimited supply has
quickly dwindled down to peanuts. I'm not concerned about eating or
food. I can live on a few dollars a day. Lord knows I've done it before.
Its accomodations that worries me, and my r/r.

I spent a bit of time wandering around wichita looking for an r/r. One
shop wanted a few days and the salvage yard had a bunch of banged up,
barely useable parts. Ill check out two more shops tomorrow, but I
really can't drop a c note on an r/r, not if I want a hotel in amarillo.
The last cost me 60 and that really hurt. I was expecting maybe 20 to
30, but 60? Yikes. I think ill just sleep outside. I did contact my
mother about 60 of mine she has, and a deadbeat roommate owes me 25. A
frat brother sent me a check for 100 and it should be coming shortly.
185 smacks and I would've been in heaven.

I'm watching the incredibles again. I really am a dork. In a half hour I
will make dinner for val and I. My usual stuff, fried tofu, tomato and
moz salad, and thai noodles in coconut sauce.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 6. Mile 1205. Wichita, ks

Don't mind if I do.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 6. Mile 1205. Wichita, ks

I know I didn't post an evening reflection last night. Its hard to do
that when you have both a girl and a cat smeeping in your arms. They
fell asleep while we were watching the incredibles, which was an
incredible movie by the way. I kind of want to see it again. I know
there is a sequel coming out, which excited me to no end.

We, val and I, are headed to her parents place for nosh and laundry. My
r/r continues to worry me but I lack the funds to dix it. I can only
hope that it will hold on for another thousand miles. if there is a
motorcycle junkyward, I will steal somethingm but I think I'm out of
luck. If it must die, I want to be as close to phoenix as possible.

I'm hoping my problems have to do with a faulty charging system and not
voltage surges.

Ah, highway in a car. How effortlessly comfortable

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 1205. Wichita, ks

The end of the line until monday.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 1160. Eureka, ks

I had a nice conversation with the owner of the chuckwagon. He was a big
guy. White beard. Flannel. Asked me if I had a motorcycle. I nodded the
affirmative. He then said that his busted knee (gave it a thump too.
Sounded wooden) came from a motorcycle accident outside eureka. Tback
then they didn't have crash scene training and the paramedics broke his
back lifting him offf the ground. I told him I'd be careful. I had to
tell him many times.

The suns dipped below and I have 60 to go. Ciao baby
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 1160. Eureka, ks

I found these jack chick tracts in the bathroom of the chuckwagon, a
restaurant I noshed at in eureka. I guess there are a lot of sinners in
this town.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 1155. El dorado, ks

Not quite the city of gold. Damned cornbugs muddied up my faceshield so,
that I couldn't see. I hate them. I think they exist only to go splat.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 1160. Eureka, ks

I've made some damn fine time. Wichita is only 60 miles away. I thought
I wouldn't be there until midnight, but now I think I can get there
before 10. Of course, a cruising speed of 95 miles an hour helped.
Kansas roads are long, lonely, and straight.

The problem with racing the sunset is that I live from mile marker to
mile marker. I don't take time to appreciate the scenery. That's too bad
because through the white sheen of the sun I could see lush, lolling
green that stretched across my field of vision. Occasionally a cluster
of trees would pop up, but life was always green, flat, and vast.

I'm sitting in a local restaurant. To my right, two girls climb over the
table in an attempt to wipe up a spill. The father smiles at me
apologetically. The sidekick attracted a girl who looked over, mouthed a
coo, then ran away. I would venture that the father is only a few years
older than me. His clothes belie a manual trade. That kind of living
ages a man.

Its 8;15 now. I probably won't get back on the road until 9. I have to
ride at night. I'm not too worried, but let it be known that I detest
cornbugs, whose slattered guts refract the highbeams, which I hate, too.
I bet the deer are waiting for me. They know I ate bambi for my
graduation dinner and they want a rump of jon.

I wonder if highway pegs look good on a viffer. My knees are always the
first to complain.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 1160. Eureka, ks

I've made some damn fine time. Wichita is only 60 miles away. I thought
I wouldn't be there until midnight, but now I think I can get there
before 10. Of course, a cruising speed of 95 miles an hour helped.
Kansas roads are long, lonely, and straight.

The problem with racing the sunset is that I live from mile marker to
mile marker. I don't take time to appreciate the scenery. That's too bad
because through the white sheen of the sun I could see lush, lolling
green that stretched across my field of vision. Occasionally a cluster
of trees would pop up, but life was always green, flat, and vast.

I'm sitting in a local restaurant. To my right, two girls climb over the
table in an attempt to wipe up a spill. The father smiles at me
apologetically. The sidekick attracted a girl who looked over, mouthed a
coo, then ran away. I would venture that the father is only a few years
older than me. His clothes belie a manual trade. That kind of living
ages a man.

Its 8;15 now. I probably won't get back on the road until 9. I have to
ride at night. I'm not too worried, but let it be known that I detest
cornbugs, whose slattered guts refract the highbeams, which I hate, too.
I bet the deer are waiting for me. They know I ate bambi for my
graduation dinner and they want a rump of jon.

I wonder if highway pegs look good on a viffer. My knees are always the
first to complain.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 1020. Bumfuck, mo

This isn't so much a stop as it is a map check. Apparently I overshot my
exit. It wasn't marked so I didn't know. I have two options. I can
continue north and take 54w at nevada, or I can go back down 71 to
lamar.

I've never been to nevada so I think ill go north.

I had to go down a gravel hill. Hope I can get back up
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 970. Carthage, mo

It is hot. While pulled over (I wanted to strap something down), tar
melted to my shoe. I got the hell out of there as soon as I could. I
didn't want that shit on my tire. I did a panic stop test to make sure
and I didn't go down. I take that as a good sign. A spot analysis of my
front tire shows tar in the creases. I think I'll be okay.

I haven't suffered more heat fatigue. I am often beset by bouts of
shivering, which I know is a sign of impending trouble, but I haven't
started yawning yet. My engine cooks my leg, lovingly, of course, and
the rest of me is pummeled by the sun. Can't wait to see what 'nix does
to me.

The problem with the interstate is that it is eternally tedious. I
covered 70 miles in 40 minutes and it didn't register on me. It was a
blink and here I am. While taking the off roads, I saw forests, valleys,
rivers, flowers, plains, animals, and other magnificent objects of
nature. On i44, I saw road and grass. Big difference.

Five more minutes then I'm back on. Its 5:30 central. I have three
useable hours of light to get as far as I can
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 900. Springfield, mo

I started noticing signs of heat fatigue (yawning, lack of
concentration), so I pulled off in springfield and stipped some layers
of clothes. I also bought some gatorade. When I finish it, ill go back
on the road.

I lost 66 again and decided to take some country roads. Missouri is very
much horse country and I saw many amid the twists and turns. I even
passed by a dairy farm. I'm just going to superslab it now because I'm a
bit of a ways from wichita and I have only five hours of light.

I got into a bit of an argument with a rig driver about the right way to
wichita. My map showed route 400 nearby, but no one has heard of it. I
offered route 71, but the rig driver was insistant on my heading to
joplin. I told her I didn't want to go near joplin as it was out of my
way.

Bitch was right. I'm headed to joplin.
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 812. Phillipsburg, mo

I lost 66 again and had to ask for directions. The very amused staff
told me that I was on 66. I was a bit embarassed, but recovered nicely
by telling them that I had been on since chicago.

A staff member asked me how bad my crash was. I told him the crash
wasn't mine, but I was keeping the bike ugly for theft purposes. He had
an r1, but was familiar with my bikes engine. I discussed my r/r
worries, but enthused about my wonderful v4.

I am jon, destroyer of cornbugs, crusher of butterflies, and mangler of
winged insects.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Sweet water bbq ribs

Oooh
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 750. Somewhere, mo

Very little of the original route 66 exists. Some places are completely
paved over. Others were left to rot and a new route 66 was built besides
them. I had the displeasure of riding through an original segment of the
route. Missouri route z, between somewhere and somewhere, was one of the
roughest roads I've ever ridden. At points I was gritting my teeth
because the shocks kept using my back as a reserve absorber. There were
patches, of course, but the patches made things worse. I am happy to
have passed through and now I'm sitting at a bbq place.

I didn't want to spend so much, but I saw the pit and the line and
decided that I needed to sample the best. I have ribs coming. Its ribs
of the ozarks. I waited a half hour for them. I'm now well rested and
ready to ride.

Next to me, an old hispanic nanny steals small smiles from me. She
glances my way every so often and winks. I wonder ehat she was like in
her youth. I think she was pretty.

I have eight hours to dark and I hope to be in wichita. Its been four
hours since I left and I've only covered 150 miles. Granted I've ridden
though some of missouris best, but I am not used to such a slow pace.

I am grateful to be able to do this. Everyone ought to ride 66.
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 700. Edgar springs, mo

I fell off 66 again. I seem to have trouble following it. I wonder if
others have this problem, or just me. While asking for directions, an
old man decided to talk to me about his van. Apparently he added four
wheel drive, a new engine, and a digital dash. The guy looked about 80.
I couldn't hear him well, but he seemed jovial and talkative.

Back on.
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 720. Flat, mo

Pretty.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 550. Rolla, mo

I am a dork. When I hit rolla, I started singing the walmart song. You
know, rolla rolla rolla, rolla back, etc.

Route 66 died again and I had to ask for directiond. Ill take 44 to exit
184, about 5 miles west, and then jack through 66 again. I had a spot of
sun, but the clouds are back again. I need to get moving as I can feel
the wind picking up.

Roadside crosses are depressing. And they're always on curves, too.

Rolla out
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 600. Stanton, mo. Meramec caverns

Bathroom break. I fell off route 66 and ended up here. I don't mind so
much. The road cut through the forest, down the hill, and besides the
missouri river.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

The missouri alongside meramec

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 5. Mile 550. Washington, mo

The weather is overcast, humid, and tepid. The tv says ill have sun and
90 degree weather in the afternoon. I rejoice. I should have bought the
camelback though. Ill have to remember to keep myself hydrated.

A continential breakfast at the lewis and clark motel means a few
donuts, cold bagels, and muffins with enough calories to power a yak in
the mountains. Still, I ate what I could and now I'm going to pack.

Jon the road, again.

And if willie nelson sings I'm on the road, again, in my head one more
time, people are going to get hurt.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Bedtime

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 550. Washington, mo. Bedtime

I'm sitting in some juke joint. The bartender had one of the best ass
I've ever seen. I decided that if I could do something tonight, then I
might as well appreciate the finer bottoms of missouri. She left after I
ordered my beer. I was quite dissapointed. Her hair was something else.
It looked as if she sheered a breed of long-haired dog and stuck it on.
Well, I wasn't planning on looking that high anyway.

The patrons here, all six of them, eye me suspiciously. The fact that
I'm not doing anything but writing on this and drinking does not help my
cause. That's aight. I don't feel like struggling to hear over the
music, anyway. I believe its bush.

To say that today has been long would be an understatement. It took me
over ten hours to go about four hundred miles. Normally, ten hours would
get me about seven hundred. I don't mind, though. The road has been
incredible. I feel as if I were in a motorcycle commercial of sorts.
This one road, d road in missouri, was nothing but hills and curves
through the forest and plains. The sun was setting to my right and ahead
the mist was rising.

the day has been a cartharsis of sorts. I am ready for what tomorrow
will bring me. I believe ill get up at seven and leave at 8. The road
tomorrow is longer than it was today. I could follow route 66 all the
way to joplin and then head northwest to wichita, or I could simply take
50 to 54 and jive west. I would love 66, but time is not on my side
tomorrow. I need to be in wichita before night falls. I have twelve
hours.

If I miss missouri's 66, its not a big deal. Ill just link up with it
again in texas or oklahoma.

Its about time for me to head back to the hotel. Get some sack time.
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 550. Washington, mo

This is my pad for the night. Silly place cost me sixty bucks. I'm not
happy. That leaves me with about 200 to complete my trip. Doable, but
ill have to tighten my belt a bit. I'm going inside to take a well
deserved shower, and then I'm going to see what the small town missouri
nightlife is like. I'm told there's a good bar in downtown.

Ah. Bliss
~ I write with your life and my own ~

The view from the td tavern

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 528. New mille, mo

I was supposed to superslab it to columbia, but twenty miles in found me
bored. I hauled ass off some random exit and found some beautiful curves
through farm country. Lots of horses. My iron one is faster. I'm going
to try to make washington, mo by nightfall. I think I have an hour, if I
haul ass.

People here sure are nice, though.
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 482. St. Louis mo.

I lost feeling in my legs a bit after mt. Olive. Wish I could say the
same for my ass. Luckily its almost time to rest.

I am continuously vexed by the lack of a seventh gear. After attempting
to shift up and being refused for the nth time, I have decided to write
honda a letter when I arrive in phoenix. I demand a seventh gear.

I am happy that illinois was able to provide me with many sights as a
little farewell present.
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 480. Mt olive, il

An old car graveyard

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 430. Nowhere il

Just a gas stop. Its 4:30. I gotta hurry to beat the sunset

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 380. Lincoln il

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 280. Dwight, il.

This was an unplanned stop, but its hard to enjoy the ride when your
mind is in your colon. The weather here is beautiful. Blue skies. Warm
weather. The omnipresent smell of lilacs. I was scared of a storm, and
dark clouds did loom over chicago, but out here, everything is
copacetic. I hesitate to write more on the subject for fear of jinxing
myself, but this is Gd's riding weather.

It was hard finding a dead road, and I had some pleasant rides while
searching. The road cuts through many fields and I went through an old,
wooden bridge that looked like a farmhouse on stilts. That excited me to
no end.

Riding with warped front rotors have given me some pause. I had to brake
suddenly while the road gave out to pavement.

Gotta send. Pagers dead. Last page for awhile.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 380. Lincoln il.

I wasn't planning on stopping here, but I saw a bonanza and, out of
respect for my dear mother who will probably be jealous when she reads
this, I turned in for food.

I am quite eager to be out of illinois, but the roads thus far have been
gorgeous. I turned through many small towns and took pictures of the
usual roadside attractions. No one thus far has suffered me, although I
did make a baby cry when I waved. I suppose I look a bit scary.

At one point, I decided to take pictures of cows. They were scattered
across the field. Once I stopped, they all turned and looked at me.
Every single fucking one of them. Slowly they all began to walk towards
me, congregating as they came nearer. I snapped my picture and got the
hell out. I think I ate one of their cousins or something.

Route 66 is an amazing road. I think that once I leave wichita, ill try
to make my way back to it.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 260. Somewhere, il

The mother road. Not a rest stop, but a quick pic

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 4. Mile 180. Chicago, il.

For those of you wondering about riding while hungover, may I offer my
solemnest advice of, don't. I'm already running a bit late and the fog
in my head is omnipresent. I am currently sitting in a juke joint diner
waiting for my breakfast of eggs and hash. I will then gas up, drop off
my friends garage key, and go.

The flapper tube remains open. I will have shitty mileage, but that's my
own fault.

Its go time
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Chicago. Day 3. Mile180.

So, I'm a little drunk right now. The world is spinning. That's okay with me. I have had several beers and more than my fair share of jager bombs. My story of an intrepid traveler had earned me a few free drinks. I do not mind that. Tomorrow morning I leave for missouri. My r/r remains damaged. I hope to fix that in Wichita Kansas. My flapper tubr remains open. I hope to fix that tomorrow morning, because quite frankly, 180 miles a tank does not cut it at all. I expect to have at least 120, even with a 15t front sprocket. Granted, I attempted to change back to a 16t, but I lackeda a torque wrench, For those of you who are following this, I reccomend that you purchase a torque wrench,

My friend asks that I drop off his key to this garage before I go. This is palatable. That means tomorrow I wear my bag on my back rather than on the bike. This will be slightly uncomfortable, but better than worrying about whether the bag is on the bike rather than on me. I hope to be in columbia by sunset, but understandi f i I am not. If I am not, I am willing to ride a bit in the night until I get to columbia, but I hold no high hopes. The road is long and time, of course, is short.

Well, BABY, IT is time for me to sleep, given that I am drunk and quite happy with my life at the moment. Let everyone who reads this find some measure of happiness,

The next I write, I will be somewhere between Chicago and Columbia, Missouri. Ciao, baby.

American gothic

At the art institute of chicago. Studying art theory gave me the ability
to appreciate art in ways that I could not before.

Motorcycles are art.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Hot dog

Ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at an authenic chicago style
hotdog. Notice the savoriness of the poppy-seed bun, the lush slices of
tomatoes, the tart dill pickle, the shredded red onion, and the bright
green sweet relish. Unseen is the cerrano and the perfect vienna beef
hot dog.

If your chicago style dog don't look like dis, you aint got shit.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 2. Mile 180. Chicago Il. Bedtime.

I'm not really in the mood to write, so this post will be rather short. I have a pleasant buzz going. Some friends and I went to a local "dive" bar and shat the shit while shooting pool and throwing darts. Really genteel dive bar stuff. It wasn't really a dive bar, though. Any bar which sells PBR for two-fifty and a nice bottle of porter for six-fifty really can't be called dive. The bartender was cute and I contemplated bringing her home and seeing exactly why that ass of hers was shaped the way it was in her pants.

Today was very much an eat day. I went for thai, at my favorite thai place, and ate a chicago hot dog. I have a picture and a description of said hot dog, but for some reason, blogger wont post my mobile pictures. I am very upset at it. I shall have to attempt another post tomorrow, when blogger is working with me, because y'all do not want to miss a picture of the perfect hotdog.

Someone has reccomended to me that I stay in Columbia rather than Jefferson City. Given that Columbia is a college town, there is a better chance that I might have some company in my motel room that night. I believe I will stay the night in Columbia and then head to Wichita the next morning.

Tomorrow morning, I set out in search of an R/R. I doubt I will find one here. If I don't, I will attempt to find one in Missouri or Wichita. I have a feeling that the bike will at least last me that far. I am worried about how it will fare in the southwest, though, and hope to have it replaced before then.

The weather continues to be a bit chilly, and I have my map splayed out before me. Every time I look at it, I trace out my route. I am excited to get back on the road again, but at the same time, I want to remain here a bit longer. I'm sure many of you have experienced this kind of vascillation before. The road calls, but the city calls as well. I know that I could live here my entire life and never feel the need to leave. Everything I could possibly want is in Chicago. But, at the same time, I know that I need to leave in order to fufill whatever is out there. Wanderlust is quite the disease and anyone who suffers from it will never feel satisfied with where ever s/he may be. I think that motorcycling is nothing more than an extension of wanderlust; a manifestation of the disease that is prevalent among the adrenaline junkie and those who wish to experience the world in itself as close as possible.

It's time for me to sleep. Manana.

Chicago's millenium park

The millenium park is on the north side of grant park, which is a large
tract of greenery on the loop coast of lake michigan. From this area,
you can see the chicago skyline. I'm sure most of y'all have seen the
skyline in various photos. Yeah, it looks even better in person. I
highly suggest that any rational motorcycle tourist take at least two
trips down lake shore drive; one during the day, and one during the
night. There are few better skylines. In my humble opinion, the chicago
skyline is one of the best in the world.

But, I digress. In any case, the photo you see is the centerpiece of
millenium park. It is an auditorium. The architecture is nouevou, but,
honestly, it looks like a beer can that exloded under pressure. What do
I know? They did spend millions on it so I guess they knew what they
were doing. To the left of the beer can auditorium is what we call the
bean. It looks like the ship from the flight of the navigator. Really,
its just a shiny bean. The bean is being worked on so I can't supply any
photos.

Much of millenium park is devoted to an aboreum(sp?) of sorts. I feel
like I'm in the botanical gardens. Not a bad thing. People come here to
relax and read, even on chilly may days like today.

I believe ill go to the art institute.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 2. Mile 180. Chicago, Il. Pt 1.

When I was a kid, I dreamed about cross country trips on motorcycles. My
ambitions were a bit different then, though. I wanted to eat nachos and
hot chocolate at every stop, and then compile a list of the best nacho
and hot chocolate joints. Luckily, my gastrointestinal tastes have
changed. I am now sitting in a Thai joint contemplating whether Thai
beer is worth the purchase price.

I have thus far been bad about saving money for eating on the road.
Chicago food is quite delicious and I have been eating cash as well. An
impending reg/rec purchase threatens to dig into my available funds.
Worst comes to worst, ill slep outside.

In the mean time, my food is here.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

An el ride on the brown line

I'm going to miss views like these.

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 1. Mile 180. Chicago Il. Bedtime.

I am writing this from my friend's computer. The keyboard gives me a bit of lee-way. I can type using all my fingers. I suppose this allows for greater detail and dictation, but I am a bit tired and I have told myself that twenty or thiry minutes is all I need to write. It is now 11:44pm, Central Time. I aim to write until midnight. At midnight I will publish the post and go to bed.

I will be in Chicago until Wednesday Morning. At 10 in the morning, after rush hour has passed, I will mount the bike and take the 55 to Joliet, and then disembark on route 66. Route 66 will take me to St. Louis. If it is not too late, I will continue on until I get to Jefferson City, Mo. I'm not sure how I will get to Jefferson City, but I have two main options. The first is to take 70w until I get to US Route 54, and ride that to the big J.C.. The other option is to take 44w until I hit route 50, and skate that over to J.C.. I would enjoy taking route 66 until I find a road that will take me west, but I have a feeling that daylight will be short once I arrive in St. Lou and I might have to skeedaddle quickly for a motel. It's supposed to rain Wednesday, with sprinkles of thunder, but the weather will be in the high sixties. I am a bit concerned about the electricity, given that I make a bit of a target, but I have convinced myself that if I am struck, I will obtain superpowers and fly around the world fighting evil and spreading good.

Really, lightning is the least of my worries. My VFR750 really does not like cross winds, and I am worried that the Reg/Rec will bust out on me. My lights have a tendency to alternate between intense and dim, which means I'm having voltage spikes. When I have the chance, I will stop in a motorcycle store and inquire about a rush job. I really dont want to have to order OEM parts, because that will knock me back a c-note, but in the end, peace of mind is worth the price. Besides, if the reg/rec goes, I might be stuck in the middle of no-where with no way to get the bike to town. That will be more expensive than a reg/rec.

Enough of the bike talk. It's Chicago time.

I have spent most of the day wandering the north part of the city with my friend Doug, at whose house I'm crashing. Doug and I are good conversation partners. We're both relatively bright, college educated individuals with strong backgrounds in literature. Intense discussions on the nature of writing do not faze us. As much as we enjoy blithering about the possible evolution of post-modern writing, we enjoy women more.

I have spent an inordinate amount of time looking at the Chicago woman. I check out asses. I look at hips. I examine lips from afar and wonder how they kiss, how they lick, and how they look at you after a particularly nice one. Girls with thin lips give little, tight kisses. Girls with fat lips drool and attempt to obtain the taste of lunch from the upper-lip pores of their victims. Girls with small mouths barely hold their own, and girls with large mouths engulf entire territories of skin. After examining each girl, I compare her to the girls I have kissed before. Each girl I've kissed has left an indeliable mark in my memory and she will forever be praded out in front of any girl I desire or have.

Tomorrow, Doug is taking me to Columbia College. I shall meet up with Mark in the ASL lab, and then strike out on my own. I want to eat at my favorite local Thai place, and grab a Chicago style hot dog.

This twenty minute limit is whack. But, it's midnight and I'm signing off for now. Tomorrow is another day.

Fw: A resend

-----Original Message-----
From: Jon Henner <jhenner@tmail.com>
To: Blog <go@bogger.com>
Subject: A resend
Date: Sun, 15 May 2005 17:46:39 -0500

Blogger hasn't been posting my mobile pictures. Unbeknowest to me,
blogger changed the mobile picture format. I have fixed what needed to
be fixed and below are three pictures you might have missed. The first
is wilmington, ill. The second is my packed bike. The third is from
graduation.

Cheers
~ I write with your life and my own ~
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Fw: Giordanos

-----Original Message-----

Date: Sun, 15 May 2005 15:08:45 -0500

What you should be looking at is a picture of the perfect chicago pizza.
If your chicago "style" pizza doesn't look like this, you aren't getting
the real thing.

Photoblogger might be biting me in the ass again. Ill fix it when I have
access to a computer

~ I write with your life and my own ~
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 1. Mile 180. Chicago, il

Other than the cold, the ride was rather uneventful. I sort of like it
like that. Nothing to worry about other than the impending rain and the
relentless cold and wind. At least the wind was coming down from the
north, which means I was able to escape playing kite. My vfr750 doesn't
much like cross winds. There were points which found me riding at
angles, but I remind myself that bikes generally don't mind the lean.
The lack of contact patch always annoys and I try not to sustain lon
periods of leans in a straight.

My gas mileage has been rather shoddy. When I arrived in chicago, I
found that one of the seals on my flapper tube busted wide open. I had a
lack of airpressure in my engine which made my consumption soar. This
will have to be fixed before wednesday because 180 miles a tank just
doesn't cut it.

For those of you not in the know, a flapper is the name given to the
smog cleaner unit on the side of the vfr engine. It is 5 pounds of dead
weight and ought to be removed. I left the rear cylinder feeder tube on
because I lacked a flexible ratchet and now I regret that because the
seals on the tube keep busting.

And now, giordanos

~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 1. Mile 100. Wilmington, il

This is a bit early for a message, but I really had to go to the
bathroom. I should have gone before I left, I know, but in truth, I
welcome the break. The cold is taking its toll on my body. Even typing
out this message is a slow and tedious task. It was 45 when I left
bloomington. I had not packed any winter gear. How silly of me to expect
nice weather in the middle of may. My gear, pants and jacket, are mesh.
I'm a bit stiff and sore, and all my joints aren't happy with me.
Chicago, though, is only 50 miles away.

The route so far has been pure slab. I didn't want to small road it to
chicago. There is where the true trip starts.

Back on.
~ I write with your life and my own ~

Day 1, 0 miles

I don't know if this pic will post. Blogger hasn't been nice to my
pictures. Its of my packed bike. Next entry will be in chicago.

It's go time

~ I write with your life and my own ~