The morning was much colder than I expected. I put my rainproof windbreaker on under my vest and until the wind blew it back up to my elbows, it did its job. It was chilly but I managed to stay close enough to comfortable.
Wes had first hand knowledge of the area and whipped around the farm roads and deftly negotiated us through the small rural towns. He would point at things, like a cemetery, and at a stop would explain that the cemetery was where John Dillinger was buried. In addition to being fun to ride, these roads were some of the most scenic I have ever ridden.
We came around a curve and were treated to one of the best views I've ever seen. There was a clearing in the trees and you could see the field below. The sun was still low in the sky and had barely started burning off the dew and fog. Words don't do it justice. I was drop jawed and despite my attempts there was no place to pull off and get a picture. That said, there are always moments you can recall in your mind's eye. This was easily one.
To get to Route 66, we needed to eat a lot of miles and in a hurry so that meant interstate. After the splendor of Indiana farm roads, it was sad to have to leave them. I was spoiled. That said, setting yourself up for failure and ending up successful can make the up-turn that much sweeter.
The interstate was scenic, for interstate that is. The things along the interstate made it interesting. We passed a GIANT roadside cross in Illinois. Easily the biggest example I have ever seen, I would love to know the story behind it. Everyone's cameras came out so hopefully there will be one with me in it.
|stolen from Wes at http://junkwithwheels.blogspot.com/|
The gas stops were good. The group seems really comfortable and we've become good friends fast. Good natured ribbing among guys is a good sign of that. There were laughs, some at my expense, but I know the score. It is a good sign that we are getting along.