The rainy, windy week that was

WISCONSIN is blue skies and sun but it took a week of rain and punishing winds to get here. Two days ago the wind was so bad in central Illinois the piglet and I got swept right off the road. Zeus has this new broom that sweeps clean, seen it first hand. One second we’re pointed west and going west, a second later we’re pointed west and going north.

This was on the Lincoln Highway just shy of the Mississippi River, within a mile of it. We’re riding west snugged up against a violent wind out of the south. It’s a driving rain, lots of water on the road. We’re doing 45mph or so, I’m pushing on the left grip to lean hard into the wind. Then both tires break contact with the road and we’re swept sideways across the travel lane, across the shoulder, and off into gravel and grass beyond it.

Stayed pointed west and never crashed but I’m at a loss to say exactly how we didn’t. Downshift, gas it, down again, gas it again and we’re back up on the road fighting more of the same. Make the right at the Mississippi and then the wind’s at our back. It feels a whole lot less risky but I pull over anyway and wait out the storm at one of those river locks run by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.

These tires are made of a harder compound than I thought, and I have them inflated hard to carry the weight of the gear. The rear tire is wearing down by only 1/32nd every 500 miles; can’t measure any wear at all on the front tire. Add water on the road, the heavy lean angle that had me up on the outside corners of that row of knobs left of the centerline… simple physics, I suppose: push hard enough and the whole works will slide sideways at some point.

Now I know where that point is, on this bike, carrying this weight, running these tires at these pressures… Will park the bike next time and wait out the storm.

Given the fight for every mile in rain and wind I haven’t taken many photos, but here are a few. They haven’t been cropped or monkeyed with for color saturation, contrast, etc. What you see is what I saw through the viewfinder.

Farmers’ fields are underwater everywhere in Ohio, Indiana and Illinois.

I rode a stretch of US 24 in Indiana where the wind had toppled every utility pole for close to a mile. Some poles were snapped in half at ground level, some higher up. The one left standing here was the last one before the Illinois line.

The world was one big leaden sky all week.

The rivers are thick with mud all over the region, and up over their banks and into the trees. This is on the Wabash, in Logansport, Indiana.

Three nights ago, after riding north all day along the river roads in Indiana and Minnesota, I camped around Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, a place overrun with blackflies. They swarm into your ears, up your nose, in your eyes…  bloodthirsty little devils. Just doing what they do and trying to live, like everything else.

A stomach bug came through the house a few weeks before I left. It got everyone except me, until finally me. I was feeling crummy for two days before I left. Breakfast on departure morn was two bites of toast, which turned me green. I really couldn’t eat much on the first two days headed west. Covered decent ground in any event, 308 miles the first day, 244 the second. Felt good again on Day 3 and have ever since.

Camped in eastern Pennsylvania the first night, at Lackawanna State Park, western Pennsylvania the second, at Buckaloons National Recreation Area. Meeting nice people everywhere I go, as always.

I had lunch with Chris E. in Akron, one of the guys from The Original Garage, a motorhead listserv founded by my friend Duane C. I turned up at Roger O’s place near Chicago after that, stayed there for a day.

On Memorial Day I snapped a pic of Roger’s late wife’s grandfather, Private Starobrat, a Polish immigrant seen here in his U.S. Army uniform from the War to End All Wars.

While in the Chicago area I made a side trip to Wilmington, Illinois, a Kankakee River town. There I visited with Tim G., a BMW rider I met at a campground in Wisconsin eight or nine years ago. Tim’s handy with a metal lathe. When I was rebuilding the iron piggy, he kindly fabricated a tool I needed to remove and install shifter bushings in the engine case.

Around noon Wednesday, everything changed weather-wise. All of a sudden I was rolling north along the Mississippi under blue skies.

Saw an interesting old barn and stopped to have a look.

I’m in Polk County, Wisconsin now, an hour east of the Twin Cities, 1,100 miles west of Rhode Island but it took 1,900 road miles to get here. I’m keeping the piglet off the interstates, zigging and zagging around on the blue routes instead.

I camped here with Steve M. and Christina on their 40-acre country place, lively with sheep, chickens and ducks. For dinner the last two nights we had beef and pork raised on the place. It tastes like nothing you can get at the supermarket.

Steve’s another old hand from The Original Garage. We’ve known each other for many years but finally met only just now.

Within the hour I’ll be on the road again, headed north and west. Onward to the Arctic.

Tony DePaul, Polk County, Wisconsin, May 31, 2019