Editor's note: This is the second installment of columnist's Dan Wegmueller's series on his recent motorcycle trip to Alaska.
Well, this is pathetic. I shook my head violently, trying to wake up. There I was, mid-afternoon on Day One (repeat, DAY ONE) of a 9,000-mile motorcycle trip, fighting sleep. We were barely into Minnesota. How pathetic.
Typically on trips like this, I utilize a supply of adrenaline for the initial haul. I never get enough sleep during the week leading up to the trip, but end up hitting the road so pumped, so excited, that adrenaline alone carries me through Day One. Not this time. The afternoon heat, the driving crosswind, the dry sun all worked me into a comatose state of fatigue.
I looked ahead, my eyes feeling dry and cracked. Dave was in the lead, followed by Stewbert, me, with Dad bringing up the rear. I checked my speed, 80 mph. As Dave drove out of the sanctity of a highway cut, the wind hit him. He leaned his bike accordingly, 45 degrees into the wind. Microseconds later, Stewbert did the same. Then, the wind hit me and I leaned. This would almost be fun, except we were traveling 80 mph and I was fighting sleep.
Believe me, it is entirely possible to get sleepy on a motorcycle. I tried everything; singing at the top of my lungs, shaking my head, banging my knees against the fuel tank, even changing positions on the bike. We roared ahead. I jerked up, realizing I had wandered out of my lane. This is not good. My eyes are closed again. A car zips past, catching me off guard; man, that was close.
Then, I looked up. As radical as this seems, I swear its authenticity. Right there, in front of my very eyes, as we sped down the interstate at 80 mph, I watched Stewbert sprout a pair of wings and fly away. At that point I realized I needed to stop.
I gunned the throttle, cut ahead of the others, and took the next exit. I knew they'd be upset; we had just stopped for fuel 45 minutes ago. We needed to start making time. I pulled into a gas station. If I could just grab an energy drink, I would be OK.
Turns out, everyone was in the same boat as I. Dave was having trouble holding his lane, Stewbert was dozing, and in lieu of my "Winged Stewbert" hallucination, Dad said that he looked up several times to see us morph into Christmas trees.
There we were, at Fergus Falls, Minn. on Day One, with only 501 miles on the clock. Everyone was exhausted. It was only 5 p.m., and we were stopping for the night. Better safe than sorry.
I must've looked a fright. Dragging my gear to the hotel room, I passed a grandmotherly woman with two young children heading toward the pool. She smiled, "My - you look windblown." Ma'am, you have no idea. Without even removing my gear I collapsed on the bed, and had the best sleep in over a week.
Amazing what a good night's sleep will do - I awoke feeling like a million bucks. That is, until I had breakfast. Whenever I go on vacation, I make it a point to avoid the news. But there, in the breakfast lounge of my hotel, was CNN proving my point. Societal progressives like to sit around and wonder why foreign countries so despise the United States. I'm telling you, simply turn on any network news and the question answers itself.
On Saturday, July 3, these were the world's most relevant headlines:
First, Paris Hilton gets charged with possession of marijuana. Why don't they just leave the poor little exoskeleton alone? She's just trying to make an honest living...
Next headline: Is the Tea Party Movement just a bunch of Nazis? Well, this is interesting. Since I am mere hours away from being in a foreign country, I try to figure out what a foreigner might think of our own news coverage.
I flip the channel to Fox, which is trying its level best to be even worse than CNN. The topic of discussion: "Would you want to know when you're going to die?"
So, in recap, the three most pressing issues facing the US that Saturday morning were, in this order" Paris Hilton, the Tea Party, and whether or not it is better to be ignorant of impending doom. And people actually wonder why foreign countries hate us.
With that I killed the TV, loaded my bike, and joined the others in the parking lot. Having fully rested, everyone was in better spirits. I promised myself to never watch the news again, and we hit the road. Next stop, Canada.
- Dan Wegmueller can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
Well, this is pathetic. I shook my head violently, trying to wake up. There I was, mid-afternoon on Day One (repeat, DAY ONE) of a 9,000-mile motorcycle trip, fighting sleep. We were barely into Minnesota. How pathetic.
Typically on trips like this, I utilize a supply of adrenaline for the initial haul. I never get enough sleep during the week leading up to the trip, but end up hitting the road so pumped, so excited, that adrenaline alone carries me through Day One. Not this time. The afternoon heat, the driving crosswind, the dry sun all worked me into a comatose state of fatigue.
I looked ahead, my eyes feeling dry and cracked. Dave was in the lead, followed by Stewbert, me, with Dad bringing up the rear. I checked my speed, 80 mph. As Dave drove out of the sanctity of a highway cut, the wind hit him. He leaned his bike accordingly, 45 degrees into the wind. Microseconds later, Stewbert did the same. Then, the wind hit me and I leaned. This would almost be fun, except we were traveling 80 mph and I was fighting sleep.
Believe me, it is entirely possible to get sleepy on a motorcycle. I tried everything; singing at the top of my lungs, shaking my head, banging my knees against the fuel tank, even changing positions on the bike. We roared ahead. I jerked up, realizing I had wandered out of my lane. This is not good. My eyes are closed again. A car zips past, catching me off guard; man, that was close.
Then, I looked up. As radical as this seems, I swear its authenticity. Right there, in front of my very eyes, as we sped down the interstate at 80 mph, I watched Stewbert sprout a pair of wings and fly away. At that point I realized I needed to stop.
I gunned the throttle, cut ahead of the others, and took the next exit. I knew they'd be upset; we had just stopped for fuel 45 minutes ago. We needed to start making time. I pulled into a gas station. If I could just grab an energy drink, I would be OK.
Turns out, everyone was in the same boat as I. Dave was having trouble holding his lane, Stewbert was dozing, and in lieu of my "Winged Stewbert" hallucination, Dad said that he looked up several times to see us morph into Christmas trees.
There we were, at Fergus Falls, Minn. on Day One, with only 501 miles on the clock. Everyone was exhausted. It was only 5 p.m., and we were stopping for the night. Better safe than sorry.
I must've looked a fright. Dragging my gear to the hotel room, I passed a grandmotherly woman with two young children heading toward the pool. She smiled, "My - you look windblown." Ma'am, you have no idea. Without even removing my gear I collapsed on the bed, and had the best sleep in over a week.
Amazing what a good night's sleep will do - I awoke feeling like a million bucks. That is, until I had breakfast. Whenever I go on vacation, I make it a point to avoid the news. But there, in the breakfast lounge of my hotel, was CNN proving my point. Societal progressives like to sit around and wonder why foreign countries so despise the United States. I'm telling you, simply turn on any network news and the question answers itself.
On Saturday, July 3, these were the world's most relevant headlines:
First, Paris Hilton gets charged with possession of marijuana. Why don't they just leave the poor little exoskeleton alone? She's just trying to make an honest living...
Next headline: Is the Tea Party Movement just a bunch of Nazis? Well, this is interesting. Since I am mere hours away from being in a foreign country, I try to figure out what a foreigner might think of our own news coverage.
I flip the channel to Fox, which is trying its level best to be even worse than CNN. The topic of discussion: "Would you want to know when you're going to die?"
So, in recap, the three most pressing issues facing the US that Saturday morning were, in this order" Paris Hilton, the Tea Party, and whether or not it is better to be ignorant of impending doom. And people actually wonder why foreign countries hate us.
With that I killed the TV, loaded my bike, and joined the others in the parking lot. Having fully rested, everyone was in better spirits. I promised myself to never watch the news again, and we hit the road. Next stop, Canada.
- Dan Wegmueller can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
