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We were up early and I was anxious to get on the road. I rode over to the hospital and made my usual cursory inspection of the rooms. I was pretty new to the technology and at that point, I really had no idea how to work the system. Training? We don't need no stinkin training! Just show up, shake a few hands, thank them for the business and get the hell out. Not really the way I was used to doing things, but it worked well for our purposes that day.
I got back to the hotel around 7:30, gathered up some "Continental Breakfast" and coffee for Cheryl and I, and opened up the laptop to plot our route. In times past I would open up Mapsource, draw a route, and load it to my Garmin. But now, with the awesome potential of the Harley Davidson Infotainment system, I simply write down the highway numbers on hotel stationary because I can't figure the God damn navigation system out! Granted, I didn't try very hard. Maybe this winter I'll give it another go. Anyway, we loaded up and with directions in hand we set out for the next leg of our adventure.
3/50/18/44 to Rapid City. Pretty easy right? What I keep forgetting when I do that is mileage before turns. So once we were on highway 50, I had no recollection where exactly we were to turn onto Hwy 18. I would have Cheryl look at her phone to help us out here and there, but overall it makes it a lot harder than just following a pre-programmed route on a GPS. Yeah, I know.....bitch, bitch, bitch. But it's what I'm used to. Been doing it that way a long time. The other problem, and it turned out to be a BIG problem, is I didn't have a great place to put the piece of paper with the highway names. I tried putting it in the little hatch on the fairing, but that proved to be a pita at 65 MPH. So I ended up just stuffing it in my jeans pocket. At least that way I could grab it without fear of it flying away. So that's how the next few hours went while riding through a pretty desolate part of the country - ride a while, pull out paper, ride some more, pull out the paper.
Like I said, it is a fairly desolate part of the country. Other than crossing the Missouri River, which looked really nice, there is a whole lot of nothing. Not bad nothing, but still, nothing. At this point we were on Hwy 18 and there really aren't a lot of towns that have services there. Not as bad as farther out west, but still, it's best to do strategic refueling just to be sure. In one town that had services I figured we would break for lunch and get some gas. We pulled up to a mom and pop type diner, having rode up and down the main street trying to find something other than McDonalds or Hardees. We hopped off the bike and did our usual stowing of jackets and gear. I reached into my pocket for my keys to lock the bags up. Hmmm......no keys. Must be in the other pocket. Nope. Jacket pockets maybe? Nope. Tourpack!? Nope.....I was starting to panic. I could not find my keys. And I was pretty damn sure I had them in my left pocket where I always keep them. I was certain of it in fact because it was the same pocket that I had the directions in...that....I.....uh.....kept pulling.....um.......out of my.......****.......pocket while riding.
I reached over to the ignition and turned it on. If the keys were nearby, it would give me a green light and make gettin ready to start noises. I turned the **** and nothing but a blinking red light which pretty much signaled that we were forked.
You won't be far from me Bob, in SW Minnesota ......
This was the summer of 2016 just to clarify Stan. But yes, we were not at all far from SW MN. I've taken I-90 is my alternate route by car to Le Mars and back.
Oh no. I can't stand the suspense. I wish Harley still made this belt key holder. I always use it on long trips. About as foolproof a spare key holder as you can get.
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