Thanks for the article in the newest issue of Taylor Magazine, Synergy, page 45.
Home- family love
8/2
My mom and dad arrived in Dubuque, IA around 2:00am. I pushed my cart out onto the dim lit parking lot and watched them pull around and park next to my little yellow cruiser. My insides were hosting a heated fight between gladness and shame as I approached their car.
My parents got out with big smiles and wrapped me up with hugs. Gladness won. The "situation" meant nothing; they were excited to be with me and I with them. They didn't even seem to mind the 8 hour drive from Upland and were giggling about some comedian they had listened to on the way up. My mom gave me a hard time saying that if I could have planned this little mishap a bit earlier she could have spent some time shopping in Galena, IL
We loaded the bike into the trailer they had borrowed, and as if it were planned, we rode the final 450 miles home together. The final reading on my motorcycle's trip odometer was 12768 miles, but I think the real reading includes that final leg that we rode together.
Thus, after 71 days and around 200 empty and fills, Alex and I had traveled a total of 13,218 miles through 34 states and Canada. We have seen much, met many, and learned a lot. We are grateful to have had the opportunity to take this trip and are very thankful to all those who supported and encouraged us both on the road and from home. We truly could not have done it without you!
Here is a picture of my gas receipts from the trip.
My mom and dad arrived in Dubuque, IA around 2:00am. I pushed my cart out onto the dim lit parking lot and watched them pull around and park next to my little yellow cruiser. My insides were hosting a heated fight between gladness and shame as I approached their car.
My parents got out with big smiles and wrapped me up with hugs. Gladness won. The "situation" meant nothing; they were excited to be with me and I with them. They didn't even seem to mind the 8 hour drive from Upland and were giggling about some comedian they had listened to on the way up. My mom gave me a hard time saying that if I could have planned this little mishap a bit earlier she could have spent some time shopping in Galena, IL
We loaded the bike into the trailer they had borrowed, and as if it were planned, we rode the final 450 miles home together. The final reading on my motorcycle's trip odometer was 12768 miles, but I think the real reading includes that final leg that we rode together.
Thus, after 71 days and around 200 empty and fills, Alex and I had traveled a total of 13,218 miles through 34 states and Canada. We have seen much, met many, and learned a lot. We are grateful to have had the opportunity to take this trip and are very thankful to all those who supported and encouraged us both on the road and from home. We truly could not have done it without you!
Here is a picture of my gas receipts from the trip.
Dubuque- I've died and gone to Walmart
8/1
After a fine breakfast at the local Spirit Lake diner, I set out for Chicago to visit a few friends as my last stop before heading home. I decided to take smaller highways east through the remaining portion of Iowa. The drive reminded me of Indiana as the landscape flattened and corn rose up on either side of the road. I was enjoying the pleasant sunny day and dreaming about home when a terrible "pop" sounded from beneath and behind me. The sudden outburst was immediately followed by a repeated loud knocking coming from the same direction.
I knew immediately what had happened and quickly but steadily guided the bike to the right shoulder. I got off and looked down at my rear wheel. The chain had broke as I had thought. I had not, however, expected the battering it had done to the rear fender. Instead of unraveling from the sprockets after breaking, the chain became wrapped around the spacer between the sprocket and the hub of the rear wheel. This left a portion of the chain free to whip around and cause a tremendous amount of damage.
I hoped that the damage was merely cosmetic because I had a spare chain and sprockets packed on the bike. I was in a bit of shock and stood back to take a deep breath and assess the situation. I was unhurt and the bike was still upright. The road was busy, but the bike and I were safely on the gravel shoulder. I checked my phone. The service was limited, but I had two bars. I walked west to pick up the splintered pieces of yellow and chrome from the road and to determine my exact location. I was about 35 miles west of Dubuque, IA on Highway 20 near 285th Ave.
I returned to my bike and gave it a closer examination. I had to pull the rear fender away from the wheel. The chain had smashed it to bits even tearing through the supporting metal frame. The damage exceeded the cosmetic, though. The support between the swing arm was smashed and the chain had also torn trough a good deal of the electrical. The damage was beyond what I could fix on the side of the road with the tools and parts that I had.
I phoned my parents, explained the situation, and told them I would give them a call when I had a plan. After calls to AMA Roadside Assistance (thanks Dr. Esclamado :) ), the insurance company, and many friends in the Chicago area, I was picked up by a big, orange flatbed truck and dropped off in the parking lot of a Walmart in Dubuque where I was to wait for my parents who were now on their way up with a trailer. Prodigal son... parents get the call... meet the son on the road... hmm.
The tow truck pulled away and I sat down in a heap on the curb with my bags piled around me. This was not in my master plan. I loaded my belongings haphazardly into a stray cart and walked solemnly through the electric, sliding glass doors announcing my arrival in America's heaven.
Saint Peter sat watch holding the keys, a blue sticker gun. She took one look at my dishevelled self, thought I was a homeless wanderer, and kindly explained that I couldn't be in the store. I gave her this empty stare for a few moments and then relented explaining my situation. She pointed to a separate room outside of the kingdom's walls, a Purgatory, which, by the way, conveniently sells subs and is decorated with posters of the savior, Jared.
There I sat reading my bible waiting for redemption.
After a fine breakfast at the local Spirit Lake diner, I set out for Chicago to visit a few friends as my last stop before heading home. I decided to take smaller highways east through the remaining portion of Iowa. The drive reminded me of Indiana as the landscape flattened and corn rose up on either side of the road. I was enjoying the pleasant sunny day and dreaming about home when a terrible "pop" sounded from beneath and behind me. The sudden outburst was immediately followed by a repeated loud knocking coming from the same direction.
I knew immediately what had happened and quickly but steadily guided the bike to the right shoulder. I got off and looked down at my rear wheel. The chain had broke as I had thought. I had not, however, expected the battering it had done to the rear fender. Instead of unraveling from the sprockets after breaking, the chain became wrapped around the spacer between the sprocket and the hub of the rear wheel. This left a portion of the chain free to whip around and cause a tremendous amount of damage.
I hoped that the damage was merely cosmetic because I had a spare chain and sprockets packed on the bike. I was in a bit of shock and stood back to take a deep breath and assess the situation. I was unhurt and the bike was still upright. The road was busy, but the bike and I were safely on the gravel shoulder. I checked my phone. The service was limited, but I had two bars. I walked west to pick up the splintered pieces of yellow and chrome from the road and to determine my exact location. I was about 35 miles west of Dubuque, IA on Highway 20 near 285th Ave.
I returned to my bike and gave it a closer examination. I had to pull the rear fender away from the wheel. The chain had smashed it to bits even tearing through the supporting metal frame. The damage exceeded the cosmetic, though. The support between the swing arm was smashed and the chain had also torn trough a good deal of the electrical. The damage was beyond what I could fix on the side of the road with the tools and parts that I had.
I phoned my parents, explained the situation, and told them I would give them a call when I had a plan. After calls to AMA Roadside Assistance (thanks Dr. Esclamado :) ), the insurance company, and many friends in the Chicago area, I was picked up by a big, orange flatbed truck and dropped off in the parking lot of a Walmart in Dubuque where I was to wait for my parents who were now on their way up with a trailer. Prodigal son... parents get the call... meet the son on the road... hmm.
The tow truck pulled away and I sat down in a heap on the curb with my bags piled around me. This was not in my master plan. I loaded my belongings haphazardly into a stray cart and walked solemnly through the electric, sliding glass doors announcing my arrival in America's heaven.
Saint Peter sat watch holding the keys, a blue sticker gun. She took one look at my dishevelled self, thought I was a homeless wanderer, and kindly explained that I couldn't be in the store. I gave her this empty stare for a few moments and then relented explaining my situation. She pointed to a separate room outside of the kingdom's walls, a Purgatory, which, by the way, conveniently sells subs and is decorated with posters of the savior, Jared.
There I sat reading my bible waiting for redemption.
Spirit Lake- through Stugis, the Badlands, and Wall Drug
7/30
I woke up early to begin my ride through South Dakota. Prior to this summer my furthest journeys west were a pair of trips to the Colorado ski country with buddies from college. We would leave late, all pile into a car, and head west on I-70 through Kansas. Flat and still, we would barrel through its moonlit fields emitting waves and disturbing all tranquility. Kansas is the fast before the feast and we scorned its very existence.
I expected South Dakota to simply be an extension of Kansas. I was pleasantly surprised, however, as I rode through rolling hills and steep flat-topped buttes. It wasn't long into my route east that I came across the Sturgis Rally which was just starting up. As I passed through and rode on, it was clear I was the anomaly. Everything on two wheels was in the other lane headed to Sturgis.
While I chose to forgo a stop at Mt. Rushmore, I did take the time to drive through the Badlands. The scenery is a bit difficult to appreciate returning from the west, but I did enjoy the drive. The highlight of the day, however, came in Wall, SD, where, after probably 40 miles of advertising billboards, I stopped at the very famous Wall Drug for a fresh doughnut, 5 cent coffee, and the world renowned free ice water. I found this picture of a Typical Wall Drug billboard online. Looks like they start advertising in the South Pole.
From there, I pushed on riding east to Spirit Lake Iowa. My friend, Keith, who will be traveling with me to Ecuador at the end of August was vacationing with his family at their family cottage on the lake. I arrived with the trip odometer reading 12479 miles and was graciously invited in as family and enjoyed a few days on the boat and jet ski.
I woke up early to begin my ride through South Dakota. Prior to this summer my furthest journeys west were a pair of trips to the Colorado ski country with buddies from college. We would leave late, all pile into a car, and head west on I-70 through Kansas. Flat and still, we would barrel through its moonlit fields emitting waves and disturbing all tranquility. Kansas is the fast before the feast and we scorned its very existence.
I expected South Dakota to simply be an extension of Kansas. I was pleasantly surprised, however, as I rode through rolling hills and steep flat-topped buttes. It wasn't long into my route east that I came across the Sturgis Rally which was just starting up. As I passed through and rode on, it was clear I was the anomaly. Everything on two wheels was in the other lane headed to Sturgis.
While I chose to forgo a stop at Mt. Rushmore, I did take the time to drive through the Badlands. The scenery is a bit difficult to appreciate returning from the west, but I did enjoy the drive. The highlight of the day, however, came in Wall, SD, where, after probably 40 miles of advertising billboards, I stopped at the very famous Wall Drug for a fresh doughnut, 5 cent coffee, and the world renowned free ice water. I found this picture of a Typical Wall Drug billboard online. Looks like they start advertising in the South Pole.
From there, I pushed on riding east to Spirit Lake Iowa. My friend, Keith, who will be traveling with me to Ecuador at the end of August was vacationing with his family at their family cottage on the lake. I arrived with the trip odometer reading 12479 miles and was graciously invited in as family and enjoyed a few days on the boat and jet ski.
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