Oi, it’s been a long time since I last wrote, and much has happened. I suppose I will start from where I left off: Chicago. My stay was great. The first day was spent downtown, cruising the river and lake to get a good perspective on the architecture and walking around a bit. Most of the rest of the time was spent relaxing and eating. Thank you so much Jess and Henry for being so generous.

I left Chicago late on Friday, as I was waiting for a check to come in the mail. It didn’t come, but after three days off, I was ready to get back on the road. No doubt the looming thousand miles to Great Falls has been ever-looming in my mind. Getting out of Chicago was a bit stressful- high traffic and narrow shoulders. Leaving at four put me right in rush-hour traffic. It took a lot of concentration to balance in a one-foot shoulder and stay conscious of passing traffic. At one point, however, I was run off the road, and I nearly lost it.

I don’t know if it comes across completely, if I have really expressed it, but I have been having a really tough time on this trip lately, really since I left Rhode Island. I have found it difficult to completely realize my motivation, to find peace in what I am doing. I push on, though. But I do find it tough that most people I talk to only really hear what they want to hear.  When I tell people about my trip, they just assume that I am having a blast, seeing crazy sights and interesting people. No one wants to hear that it is really tough, that I get so lonely being on my own on the bike for ten plus hours a day. So it gets exhausting and frustrating that many people I meet cannot provide sympathetic ears. Stopping with family is nice, because I can forget about all that and enjoy the company, but once I am back on the road, the loneliness returns. Friday evening, it hit me pretty hard.

I was on a fairly busy road, like I said, working hard to keep within the foot or two shoulder that I was allowed between the traffic lanes and rough gravel. As I trucked along, an suv came up next to me, having slowed down. I looked over and noticed the man driving was looking in his side mirror, obviously checking the clearance on a trailer. From the corner of my eye, I could see that he was towing a boat. I figured he was making sure the boat wouldn’t hit me, and he slowed down to be safe. Looking at the wheels on his truck, however, I noticed that they were beginning to cross over the solid white line. Looking behind me, I could see that the big boat, a 20- or 30- footer, was coming right for me. I swerved off into the gravel and skid to a stop as I watched the truck and boat continue on, well into the shoulder. Ooooh, buddy, I lost it! I got back on the bike, back on the shoulder and continued riding, but I was cursing a blue streak. ‘Fuck that guy!’ That was the gist of things. I yelled for about a minute before I started crying. This was bad. I continued to pedal on; I only cried for a minute or two. After that I felt a little better, but it became painfully obvious what kind of state I was in. Things are not well on the Nomad front.

Continuing on numbed me a bit. I would have to find some way to deal with this issue soon. As darkness rolled in, I started thinking about a place to stay. I was just coming into a small town and figured I might look for a church. Passing through town, I quickly realized that this would not be a good place to stay. It was full of jerks and rowdy folk. Several people yelled stuff at me out the window, people were speeding and trying to show off. The beginning of a holiday weekend, and people were obviously ready to blow off some steam, let out their frustrations through distructive and disruptive behavior. I didn’t want to be anywhere near that kind of shit, so I pressed on out of town. Past that, there wasn’t much for quite a while. No churches or campgrounds or parks, just farms. It got to be fully dark, and I was riding solely by the light of my front lamp. It was a bit scary but in some ways exilirating to be out with the stars. I missed the moon, though, and the comforting light she provides.

I was traveling west down a state highway with moderate traffic. I had no map, only some vague written directions telling me which highways and roads to turn onto. Coming to a four-way intersection, I saw that the highway I had been traveling on continued on to the left, heading south. To the right was another highway, heading to some small town to the north. Straight ahead was a smaller road, not a highway, heading into the darkness toward the west. To the left I could see lights and cars coming both directions. Cars were heading to the right as well. No one was going straight. West, however, was the direction I was headed, and I knew the next road I wanted to turn onto was somewhere down that small road. There was nothing but me and the stars as I left that intersection and continued on down the dark, quiet road. It was peaceful, and I thought about how indicative the whole situation was of my trip so far. The air was cooling, but it felt good. I wasn’t sure how far I would have to go to find a place to stay, but I was content to be alone with the night sky. Some miles later I came across a church and decided it would be the place. It was a fairly new building and seemed out of place, out in seemingly the middle of nowhere. It did the trick.

The next morning I rolled out around eight-thirty, set out down the road to find a bathroom. The first place I found was a home construction site with a Johhny-on-the-spot. I figured it was best to take advantage of that instead of taking my chances with more miles of unknown. Unfortunately, the door of the porta-potty had become a nesting site to some yellow jackets. They were just hanging around inside and out. I decided that wouldn’t make for too relaxing of a dump, so I ended up just going in the trees next to the house. I had run out of toilet paper before I got to Chicago, but two Mexican workers were kind enough to spot me some napkins.

I passed into Wisconsin, took a nice long breakfast break before continuing on. I had to buy a map since it was Saturday and no chambers of commerce would be open and I didn’t know if I would pass any tourist centers in the next 10 or 15 miles before my written directions ran out. Most of the day was hot, with no clouds in the sky. It was fairly dry. I ended the day around 9:30 at a city park in some small town- Mount Vernon. Some park officials and others were there when I arrived, having a good time, drinking beer. They said I could camp there for five bucks. When I told them I didn’t have any cash (which I didn’t think I did at the time, but I found out that was not true the next morning), they said it was no problem. They went home around 10 and left the bathroom unlocked for me. They also left behind a bunch of empty beer cans and a few full ones. I found the only one left that wasn’t a light beer and decided I would help myself to it, help them clean up a bit by emptying the can and throwing it away.

Shoot, I’ll have to finish this later. I need to get back on the road, as it is getting to be mid-afternoon and I want to make it to the twin cities area before dark tonight, where I will be staying with my cousin Julie. I’ll continue with my update later, as there is plenty more to relay. Summation for now is that I am still going. It was pouring rain for a few minutes earlier but seems to have let up now. Just windy.

More words to come, and pictures, too…