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Beartooth Road Trip TR: A Coming of Age Tale
Day One: The Sixth of June in the year of our Lord twenty and twenty-one.
A restless night last night made for a fashionably late start this morning. I didn’t get on the road until 11 est. Once I did though, the early legs of my journey were beset by pissin problems. It could have been the couple cups of coffee, or perhaps just nervousness toward the uncertainty of what lay ahead, but I was stopping at almost every rest area. I ran into terrible traffic just west of the NC border which delayed me nearly an hour. I was about to piss myself the entire time too. When the traffic cleared, I found a nice gas station bathroom sink to relieve myself in and was soon on my way.
As I neared Bobby stainless land, my polyuria subsided but the traffic returned. Another lengthy delay quashed my hopes of St Louis by nightfall. By the time I had the metropolis in my rear view, it was high time for some fine dinin. I found a Popeyes and enjoyed a delicious 2-piece leg and thigh with a biscuit.
Back on the road again, I set my sights on an encampment for the night. I decided on Paducah, Kentucky, the place from which I write you.
Kentucky is a strange land and I have found it to be mostly desolate. The roads are in pretty terrible shape and the roadkill picker-upper must have quit because there are deer carcasses every mile, in various states of decomposition. I’m pretty sure I saw a few armadillo too.
I hope for an early start tomorrow with the possibility of reaching Laramie before I get too tired. If not, somewhere in far west Nebraska will have to do.
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Beartooth Road Trip TR: A Coming of Age Tale
Day 2 - 6/7
Part one
I was up and on the road early. I caught the last flames of sunrise over the Ohio and saw nothing remotely scenic until I hit Iowa.
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Missouri came and went quickly according to the clock. Traffic was nonexistent until I reached the urban sprawl of St. Louis, and even then it wasn’t all that bad. Like I said, I made good time but the time I had alone with my thoughts was agonizing for awhile. I thought about everything I could think of. It was deeply introspective and I think my wiser subconscious broke through the drone of the interstate to deliver some long overdue insights. I experienced emotional growth.
On a concrete picnic table outside a gas station on the outskirts of Kansas City, I decided Laramie was too lofty a goal for the day. I also felt as though I had not taken in any landscapes compelling enough to satiate my expectations of what a roadtrip should be. I decided that I would arrive at my destination, wherever that may be, in time to eat a meal and find a proper vantage point from which to view the sunset.
With Missouri behind me, I made a short passage through southwest Iowa before arriving in Nebraska. The traffic dwindled with the trees. I had never seen open country like that before, though I expected it to be much flatter. The terrain was barren but rolling.
At a rest stop west of Omaha, I booked a room in Gothenburg. I was still some hours from the town and getting hungry. I stopped in Grand Island for an early dinner, venturing well off the highway in search of a proper meal. I settled on a pizza place off Main Street. It was decent, specially for bumfuck, Nebraska.
I arrived at my hotel two hours later only to be greeted by a long line for the front desk. At the front of the line was a large middle eastern man arguing with the cute girl behind the counter. Judging by the looks of those in front of me, this had been going on for some time. He went back and forth between mediocre English and Arabic but I quickly concluded that he was wrong. I wanted to say something but once the cute girl got her manager on the phone, I figured this would resolve soon...
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