I-25 was just outside my door so it was a fast getaway out of Cheyenne. The bike screamed at the distance and it melted in submission to the dauntless intrepidity of this bike and rider. I was the can-do kid this morning, ready for whatever this day had to offer up.
rough roads, rain, wind, heavy traffic
Then cheyenne to great falls live in trailer visit sip and dip then side trip to ft benton grand union hotel girl at hotel, gail on bridge, and at night iron pine bar back in great fallsthen sunday, john 17 with gary, then st johns lutheran
West Glacier to Billings, Wednesday, August 18, 2009:
couple of thoughts. The reason I ride a MC is I want to be validated. MC riders wave. People in cars don't. MC riders show up for life. Car drivers don't They are focused inward. MC riders outward. They are involved in the world car drivers ware involved with themselves it was warmer, but not uncomfortable. back hurt. fast hard ride to billings. No bar. chicken in room ugh no call from kristi since monday.
Regarding last night, tuesday night, at fredas in west glacier it is a damn shame two beautiful young and very available girls went begging to a 65 year old bon vivant because the multitude of young men on the scene couldn't or wouldn't step up to the need. Why? Multiculturasits should have jumped at the opportunity to mix it up with norwegian girls and vice versa. why didn't tina marie and heidi act more agressively? Good qhueston. The boys, brannen, brandon, marshall (levi and brannen weren't there monday.)kurt, and others, never approached them. I watched this little side show for over about two hours before I made my move.
I sat down on the floor, my back to the door jamb. Heidi, I didn't know her name at the time, was also sitting on the floor. Whe was leaning back against the opposite jamb. To my rignt, on a bench, I met Emma, from New Zealand. She was living in Nevada and traveling with a friend. I spent a few minutes talking to her before turning my attention to Heidi, on my right. I think I simply asked her during a lull in the conversatinon what language they were speaking. Another older guy had moved in by now, but he was not agressive. He seemed only peripherally interested in the girls. His name was John Paul and he went by Paul. Interesting. I, of course, am John Paul, but I go by John. What kind of confluence of cosmic forces and mundane events such as passed that evening could account for what seems like some kind of mockery from the absurd itself.
West Glacier to Billings, Wednesday, August 18, 2009:
couple of thoughts. The reason I ride a MC is I want to be validated. MC riders wave. People in cars don't. MC riders show up for life. Car drivers don't They are focused inward. MC riders outward. They are involved in the world car drivers ware involved with themselves it was warmer, but not uncomfortable. back hurt. fast hard ride to billings. No bar. chicken in room ugh no call from kristi since monday.
Regarding last night, tuesday night, at fredas in west glacier it is a damn shame two beautiful young and very available girls went begging to a 65 year old bon vivant because the multitude of young men on the scene couldn't or wouldn't step up to the need. Why? Multiculturasits should have jumped at the opportunity to mix it up with norwegian girls and vice versa. why didn't tina marie and heidi act more agressively? Good qhueston. The boys, brannen, brandon, marshall (levi and brannen weren't there monday.)kurt, and others, never approached them. I watched this little side show for over about two hours before I made my move.
I sat down on the floor, my back to the door jamb. Heidi, I didn't know her name at the time, was also sitting on the floor. Whe was leaning back against the opposite jamb. To my rignt, on a bench, I met Emma, from New Zealand. She was living in Nevada and traveling with a friend. I spent a few minutes talking to her before turning my attention to Heidi, on my right. I think I simply asked her during a lull in the conversatinon what language they were speaking. Another older guy had moved in by now, but he was not agressive. He seemed only peripherally interested in the girls. His name was John Paul and he went by Paul. Interesting. I, of course, am John Paul, but I go by John. What kind of confluence of cosmic forces and mundane events such as passed that evening could account for what seems like some kind of mockery from the absurd itself.
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