thebottle Blog

The Start

There was a general idea of travel, but no definitive plans. I packed my bike and took off heading west toward Minnesota. I made it about 50 miles from La Crosse when I was pulled over by a cruiser headed the opposite direction. The officer walked up to me and asked, “Do you know how fast you were going?” “Hopefully, not fast enough to get a ticket,” I smiled at her so that she knew that I was only joking. “You were going 17mph over the speed limit.” She walked back to her cruiser. I was fucked for sure. She walked back a few minutes later, “I am going to let you off with a warning this time, but try and slow it down. You are still learning, remember that.” With that she handed me back my temporary motorcycle license and a written warning. I thanked her and then I was off.

Into La Crosse, across the Mississippi River, and into Minnesota. The interstates were getting boring by the time I crossed over into South Dakota so I found a small campsite to set up my tent. It was a private campsite with huge lots for only $6/night.

As I was setting up my tent an old man came driving over on a golf cart. He was the owner of this private campground and wondered how long I was staying and if I needed anything. He fetched a metal disc to put under my kickstand, we talked for awhile, I thanked him, and then he left.

I was starting to pass out in the back seat when I remembered to warn Paul that we were low on gas. I knew we were literally running on fumes at this point and there was a great chance that we could run out at any moment. In disbelief, I watched Paul drive right by the last Exxon station at the city limits.I started yelling at Paul. I inquired as to why he didn’t stop, but he did not seem troubled. I told him to turn around immediately and get the gas, but he insisted we would find another station. I put my head in my arms, it was hopeless. Read the rest of this entry »