The Aftermath

I was pretty beat and slept in till about 11.

We unloaded the bike and put her in the garage.



After pulling off the left sprocket cover I examined the oil pump. Having figured I'd blown the oil pump seal I was expecting bits of oring or some indication of the catastrophic failure, but I couldn't see anything. I looked off to the left and noticed something that didn't look right.

I guess it wasn't the oil seal after all, something went wrong and punched a hole in the lower crank case!


The silver lining to all this is I had a spare engine from when I refinished the bike, and it is looking like it won't need much work at all to get it running. Just one more part of the motorcycling adventure.

The Long Road Home

Having decided that I was ready to go home I packed my gear. I finished a few jobs my uncle had me doing for him, said goodbye to my aunt and headed out.

Before hitting the freeway I wanted to see my uncles new business. He runs a retirement home in Glenwood, and opened a new on in Monroe, another little town just outside of Richfield. I had heard lots of things about the new building, but hadn't had the chance to make it down there myself, so I went.

I didn't take any pictures, but I should have. It is a really nice facility, open, airy, and just really classy. He gave me the grand tour. My Grandpa and Grandma (his parents) lived there in their own little apartment, and I wanted to see their pad and say goodbye. I sat and chatted with them for about an hour, it was nice to catch up and relax.

About noon I took off and headed back to I-70. The ticking noise that had started a couple days earlier was still there, but since I had decided to ignore it until I got back to Salt Lake, I just put in my headphones and turned up the tunes.

I had a full tank of gas, and I had determined that I could easily make 90 miles on a tank before I even need to worry about finding a gas station. After about 60 miles I decided to stop in Scipio and stretch a bit, plus I wanted to check the oil level. I pulled into the station, drank some water from the bottles I was carrying, filled up the gas, checked the oil which looked fine, reset the odometer to 0's, and took off. As I gunned the engine to merge onto I-15 I was anxious to be home and relax, but also enjoying the memories of all the great miles I had ridden on this first really big trip.

About 12 miles later I felt the bike hiccup, but just assumed that it was a cross breeze or something, and continued riding. A minute or so later I started losing power fast. At first I thought it was an electrical issue as I'd had problems with them before, so I tried giving her more throttle while I figured out my best course of action. More throttle didn't do very much and I was continuing to lose speed very fast. I must have thought about the oil leak coming from my oil pump because I looked down at my left foot and saw a huge geyser of oil coming out of my left sprocket cover. Figuring I had blown the oil seal around the pump I quickly pulled off to the shoulder where the bike died before I could hit the kill switch.

As I was quickly contemplating my options and wondering what damage the engine had suffered I pulled out my cell phone and called my mom, hoping I would be able to get a hold of her. My phone was on the last bit of battery as it connected my call, and the reception was spotty. By the grace of heaven or something the line cleared up long enough for me to give her my location and ask her to pick my broken down butt up.

Even though her and my little brother were on their way to go camping, she agreed to come pick me up, just as my phone started making the noise that means it's about to die.

Having arranged a ride I got off my bike and started pushing it toward the off ramp. I was .4 miles from exit 202 (Yuba Lake). Fortunately the uphill was pretty gradual so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. As I was pushing a truck pulling a toy hauler trailer pulled over in front of me and the man driving got out and started walking back. I don't know if anyone else is this way but I was embarrassed and part of me was hoping that people would just ignore me. But at the same time I was really grateful someone took notice of my predicament, even if I'd already made arrangements to get home.

As he approached he called out asking if I'd ran out of gas. Man, I wish that was the problem, but since it wasn't I explained I thought I had blown an oil seal so gas wasn't the issue. He offered me a ride into Nephi, and I think he could have fit my bike in his toy hauler trailer, but since I'd already made arrangements to be picked up, and my phone was dead so I couldn't call my mom to let her know what was going on (I don't have numbers memorized, accursed speed dial) I thanked him for the offer and for stopping but said I was just fine.

He pulled away as I was pushing my bike up the exit ramp and he honked his farewell. This is one more example of why I still have a little faith in humanity.

With the bike on the exit ramp, and no shade in site, unless you were the height of the Roaming Gnome, my choices of where to stay were pretty easy. I figured I had at most 3.5 hours to wait before my family would be there with my pickup truck, so I just put the bike on the center stand and proceeded to wait.

I was in the blazing desert sun, and I really should have grabbed my hat out of my sissy bar bag, but it was in the middle of the pack and I didn't want to unload the bike. I was half expecting a Highway Patrol Officer to come by and tell me I could stay there and to move, and I didn't want to have to repack everything. So I just sat there, wondering if my balding head would get badly burned. It's been nearly a week and I was super fortunate, I just got a really nice tan, no burning or blistering, so woohoo!

After a while, sitting and watching cars go by got pretty boring so I pulled out my laptop and typed for a while. It was mostly just stream of consciousness stuff as I tried thinking through my life and my goals. After the battery on the laptop drained out I put it away and just sat at thought.

Should I fix this bike, or should I call it quits and buy a new one? I finally decided I had so much time, money, and soul into this bike that I would fix it. Even if the engine was seized and needed to be rebuilt, it would still be cheaper than buying a new bike.

Normally I'm a rather pessimistic person, unfortunately I tend to focus on the bad things, but as I sat there I made a decision. I was ok, I had the skills and knowledge to fix the bike, I had a network of family and friends to help and support me, so there is really nothing to worry about. I would get the bike fixed and enjoy many more miles of touring.

Luckily I had made it a habit to carry water with me, mostly because I didn't want to have to buy drinks everywhere I went, but in this case it was a life saver. I had made it a point to stay very hydrated while riding around, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. There was a decent breeze, so all in all it was pretty tolerable.

I decided to take some pictures of where I was stuck at.

Here's a couple pics I snapped of the bike. Notice the oil covering the lower part of the engine an the back tire. This could easily have ended with me laying the bike down at 75mph.

For some reason that no one is really sure of it took my mom and little brother a little over 5 hours to get to me. After a while I was getting concerned that something may have happened, and since my phone was dead there would have been no way for me to contact her to find out. I knew my truck had a coolant leak, and I was worried that it may have overheated or worse and stranded her.

While these concerns were running through my head I noticed a lot of things about my environment. There was a large hawk or some other bird circling that was probably disappointed when I turned out to not be dead. There were a couple birds that were either fighting, or may have been trying to distract the hawk from their nest. Someone had scribbled Communism under the STOP on the stop sign. And why were there 2 grasshoppers that were both missing their left hopping leg?

The sun was beginning to go down and I started thinking of what I should do if my ride didn't get there soon. I was in the boy scouts and learned how to survive in the wilderness so I wasn't really concerned about that, and Yuba Lake was only 5 miles away, so I could always hike over there if I needed too, there was bound to be a ranger station or something.

Another person pulled over to see if I needed help, but I told him I was ok. Not long after that I saw my mom and little brother pulling off the freeway and heading over to me. We loaded up the motorcycle and headed home. We stopped in Nephi to get some food and water and more radiator fluid for the ride home. It took over a gallon and a half of radiator fluid to make it back to Salt Lake. Turns out my water pump had failed. Oh well, it wasn't too hard to fix.

All things considered, it was a great trip and the bike breaking down is just one more story to tell!

Fish Lake, Capitol Reef, and a Worrysome Ticking Noise

I hadn't accomplished as much at my Grandfathers as I would have liked so I went back over there the next morning to spend a couple more hours before taking off for more riding. I managed to get 20 of the 2x2 slats up and you can get a pretty good feel for how it will look once it is finished.



I think it will look good, and while I didn't accomplish near as much as I felt I should have, I'm really pleased with how it's shaping up. I promised him I'd be back down in two weeks to try and finish it up. I was hoping to ride my motorcycle back down, but as you will find out, the motorcycle gods have other plans it would seem.

I left his house about 9:30 and headed back to Glenwood to pick up a gas can and fill up the tank. I ended up purchasing a gas can since I was unable to find one that I felt comfortable would seal properly. Here's the bike all geared up ready for the days adventure, complete with gas can :)
I had noticed a pesky ticking noise coming from the top of my engine. It reminded me of the sound made when as kids we put basball or playing cards in the spokes of our bikes in an attempt to make it sound like an engine. I would contemplate this noise off and on throughout my trip, but I had decided to have some faith that my bike wouldn't let me down, so I rode on.

As I rode up the mountain from Glenwood toward fish lake I encountered a road sign that alwasy troubles me "Loose Gravel". This sign always sends a chill up my spine and causes a moment of panic. In a car loose gravel is a nuisance and might chip your paint, on a motorcycle it can cause you to lose control of your bike and lay it down. I practice the motorcycle religion of A.T.G.A.T.T (All The Gear All The Time), but even with proper riding gear you rarely walk away unscathed. I decided that I would have to remain alert and cautious, and I slowed down a bit. In hindsight I'm not sure this was necissary as the gravel appeared to have been either pushed in to the soft tar by all the vehicles that had come before me, or had been pushed off to the side of the road. Still, cautious riding will keep you riding.

I came up and over this hill, and the twisties would have been a lot of fun if I had been able to ride them at speed, but as I said, I erred on the side of caution and rode slowly. On the way down a car came up behind me and I figured I'd pull off at a pull out and let him pass since he could safely move at a faster pace. Besides, it gave me the opportunity to snap these pics.

I pulled back on the road and headed back toward fish lake. After a while I became a bit more comfortable with the road and picked up a little bit of speed. Another 10 minute or so brought me into a really green valley, I'm not really sure if it has a name or not, but I liked it so I pulled over and snapped some more pics.

I haven't done enough riding to know if these things are common or just a peculiarity of central Utah, but every now and then a sign would announce "Historical Marker 500ft". At 65mph 500 feet passes pretty quick, so by the time I've processed what the sign was saying, and decided to stop and check it out the turn is right there. It's a good thing my brakes and in good shape. I thought the information was interesting so I took a picture. As a side note, I'm a huge advocate for the individuals right to own guns, I own them and enjoy the responsible use of them. However I get very put out when I see that someone used one in an irresponsible manner and vandalized a sign or monument. I doubt any of the people who read my blog would be so irresponsible and for that I'm glad.

The temperature cooled down a bit as I continued riding and going up in elevation. Compared to the heat in the valley, I was really enjoying the cool air. Another 3o minutes of riding or so and I came to the turn off for Fish Lake. I noticed that the types of trees had changed. Where before I was used to seeing Juniper and Sage Brush, Quakey Aspens became the dominant tree. I'm not sure what caused it, but it was just a detail I noticed. I rode to the lake and parked the bike. For lunch I enjoyed a couple of granola bars and some water. I always made sure to bring water with me, mostly so I didn't have to buy it when I stopped.

Fish Lake is a pretty area, and it's very well developed. There are bathrooms with flushing toilets and developed camp sites. I'm all for roughing it, but I enjoy the comforts of civilization as well.

Here's my attempt at an artistic framing of the above pic using the camera. I think it came out pretty decent.

More pics of Fish Lake.



I relaxed in this area for a half hour or so and then hit the road again. Here's a few pics as I'm leaving.

On the way to Capitol Reef I stopped in Loa to fill up my tank since I wasn't sure how much further it was to my destination. I went in to give the station attendant cash for my gas, and it turns out you can pay with cash AFTER filling up. I haven't seen that in years.

I think I'm going to have to take a trip back to Capitol Reef.

This one is known as The Castle, it's actually on the little map you can get from the Ranger Station.

After 4 days on my motorcycle I was pretty sore and decided to head back to Glenwood. It was a nice ride back. I took a few more pictures as I was entering Glenwood.

I decided that I would go home the next day. I had a great time and a lot of beautiful miles passed beneath my tires and the bike had handled very well, I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I felt it was time to get back. The ticking noise was concerning, but there wasn't really anything I could do about it without my tools back home.

A day off of riding.

After talking with my Grandfather, I had promised him I would come over and help him with his project to enclose his porch.

I got over there about 10am, we measured the back porch out, discussed the options, and went shopping for the materials we would need to make it happen.

Here's some pictures of what it looked like before we got started.

I was a little hesitant to cut the Trumpet Vines, they were very thick and I liked them. However, to get in and really frame it correctly I had to chop them up. I'm sure they'll grow back quite easily. Here's what I accomplished in about four and a half hours.

Grandpa and one of his neighbors that came over to talk with him helped me steady the top sections while I measured them out and screwed them in. It came out super solid and I was very pleased with the work.

I called it quits around 4:30pm as I had promised to cook dinner for my aunt and uncle that I was staying with. I headed back over to their house and proceeded to burn the first batch of rice I tried to make. I'm used to the Minute rice and they didn't have any. My aunt was very gracious about it, and I did manage to cook the rice properly the second time around. The meal was very good. I then proceeded to mow the lawn of their house and business with the riding lawnmower they have. Their property is pretty big and it took a couple hours to do. Near the end the lawnmower died and I thought it was out of gas. I fetched a 5 gallon gas can and proceeded to unscrew the lid on the mower. It must have been severely vapor locked because as soon as the lid came free it geysered at least a half gallon of gas into the air, soaking my left arm and part of my shirt and getting all over the mower. Fortunately it didn't catch fire, and after waiting a bit I started it up and took it over to the water tap and washed it off, and finished mowing the lawn.

I'm just glad the gas didn't get into my eyes or mouth, somehow I lucked out and dodged that liquid bullet.

Freemont Indian Museum, Cove Fort, and a brief stop at Castle Rock

I ended up getting a later start than I had meant to this morning. I got up at about 8am and did some chores my uncle had requested, seems like fair compensation for letting me bunk at his house.

On the way to Richfield I decided I should really stop and see my grandfather since I hadn't seen him for a while. He was actually home and we chatted for a bit. He's building some railing around his back patio so he won't fall off it anymore. He's a good guy but not the handiest fellow with building things so I told him I'd come back tomorrow and help him build it. Hopefully it won't take all day and I'll still have some time to do more riding, but even if it does take all day it's worth it. Gotta help out family where you can, and I know my dad would have helped him.

I left grandpa's about 1pm, definately later than I wanted to and headed south on I-70 to exit 17, Freemont Indian State Park. I've visited here before, many years back so I sorta knew what to expect. It's a small visitor center, a little bigger than the one on Antelope Island, and absent of the nasty spiders! I went in and toured the museum and took some pictures, I hope it was ok. The signs said no food or drinks, they didn't say anything about flash photography.


I think it's interesting how people used what nature gave them to make things like these baskets. It would be cool to know how to weave one of these things.











Nice moccasins. When I was younger I did some leather working and tried beading, it's rather difficult so I'm always impressed my nice beadwork.













Lame as it may seem, these beads really impressed me. They appeared perfectly circular and the holes were almost dead center on most of them. They really looked like what you can buy now days that comes out of a factory, yet they are hundreds or even thousands of years old and were made by hand!










These clay pots were really cool. I took a ceramics class in highschool and nothing I made looked nearly this nice and it wasn't for lack of trying. The Freemont Indians were very good at what they did.

Unlike the Plains Indians which were largely nomadic, the Freemont Indians were farmers and so they build more permanent shelters to withstand the extreme weathers in Utah. Here is a picture of the inside of a Pit House (I think that's what they are called). I wonder how difficult it would be to build one of these.







I exited the museum and went for a hike to see some of the rock art that the Freemont Indians had left. I ended up only seeing one piece of art due to time, but it was still a nice piece. The hike there was surprisingly pleasant. I guess the rains and wind weren't such a bad thing. At the museum the nice park ranger manning the cash register gave me a map that gives the locations and distances of various points of interest. The one I wanted to see was called the Hundred Hands Cave. According to the map it was .10 miles away from the museum. So off I went.




I came to this sign, good thing the trail is marked.



















Not far from the sign I saw a nice landscape.














Enjoying the view, I followed the trail another ten feet....


I suppose this just goes to show that life is all in how you choose to view it. If you step back a ways, it's rather a pretty view! (Ok, I know that's cheesy as can be, but it seemed to me that this was some sort of life commentary and that was the best I could come up with.)

As you can see, the trail heads down and then turns left along that road. I followed it a ways, it crosses the road, and down the embankment on the other side. I could hear running water at this time and came to this bridge.

At first I was kind of annoyed, the bridge looked old but perfectly fine. On the way back I took a second look from the other bank and decided I was glad I had chosen not to ignore the sign. There were boards busted and missing that you couldn't see from the other bank.




I found the new bridge the park sevice put up and admired the welds as I went across. Having just learned how to weld last year I am always looking at such things. I crossed the bridge and came to this sign.

Nice, gonna have to give them an A for the new bridge, but an F for their distance measurment and map making skills. Oh well, the weather was nice and there was a breeze that kept it pleasant.

Here's a bunch more pictures I snapped on the hike there.

More pretty landscape.













The trail leading up to the cave.


















There are 31 handprints in the cave. There is no info as to why these may have been here, maybe it's the handprints from everyone in the tribe at the time. It is kind of mind boggling to me to think these have been here for thousands of years!











On the way back I passed by these two benches. I don't know why but I thought it was interesting. One is obviously pretty recent, the other I'd guess is at least 20 years old.






I didn't really get to see any other rock art as it would have involved more hiking and I was running out of time. I'll definately be back down here some time in the future and will have to try and make time for some hiking.

I got back on I-70 and headed over to Cove Fort. If you are ever in the area it's an interesting place. It's a dinky little fort out in the middle of what used to be nowheresville. It's now the junction of I-70 and I-15. It was built at the request of Brigham Young as a way station for stagecoaches and the pony express. It has 12 rooms, which are actually pretty nice even by todays standards. I learned something really interesting, back when it was first built, the average man was only 5'7" tall and the average woman was 4'11" tall. What has made us so much taller, the stereoids in the beef??

Here's the fort, it was constructed of lime morter and volcanic rock. The trees are Black Locust trees, and are nearly as old as the fort itself.

I visited this fort about 13 years ago or so and one of the things I remembered was the telegraph. As my tour guides were showing me in, I commented that it was primitive text messaging ;).

I knew telegraphs ran off of electricity, but it never occured to me to wonder where that electricity came from. In our modern day we just plug our electronics in, but back then they didn't have it so easy. And no, two strings tied between trees does not make a power pole. These jars beneath the telegraph represented the primitive batteries they used back then. The big jar in the forground was filled with copper sulfate. Unfortunately that's the only chemical I remember.

When I was younger my parents had a woodshop in our garage. I learned the basics of woodworking and as such any woodworking I run into is interesting to me. I'm especially interested in really old pieces since most of it was done by hand. I don't know if this is an antique or just a reproduction, but it looked nice either way.

The lady of the house (the wife of the man who was in charge of building and running the fort) cooked using this old wood burning stove. It has two ovens ( the tour guide took special care in pointing that out, I don't know why) and she cooked all manner of food in it. I want to know how she could maintain the temperature?

Here's the dining area, it's literally next to the kithen, there was no physical wall seperating them. The walls in this place are 2 feet thick, and according to the tour guide it helped to keep it cool in the summer and warm in the winter.

The glass used in the windows is not the original but period reproductions out of Germany. From what I was told, it is poured hot into a mold and allowed to cool. This method of making glass produces a lot of imperfections, such as ripples and bubbles as you can see. I think it just adds character and some cool effects.

I think this was one of the boys rooms. I love old firearms, I'm a bit of a gun buff and always seem to find them. Interestingly, the only person ever shot at this fort was one of the sons of the builder. His brother found a pistol while the parents were away and accidently shot the younger brother in the knee. Apparently the guy who got shot lived into his 90's and got the biggest kick out of telling people he was the only one ever shot there!

You'll notice at the foot of the bed ropes coming from under the mattress. Beds used to be sprung using rope, and after a while the rope would begin to sag so you would use a special key (sorry, didn't get a picture of it) to tighten the ropes. This is where the phrase "Sleep Tight" came from.

Old style treddle sewing machine. My tour guide was a little surprised when I told him I actually understood how the thing worked. In case anyone reading this doesn't know, the operator would use their foot to pump the treddle underneath it up and down. This would, through a series of pulleys and levers, cause the sewing machine to work. I bet this thing never wore out and probably never needed servicing. Not fancy, but damn reliable, not like the crap we buy these days.

I had to take a picture of this wardrobe. This was the "closet" for the young girls living here. Each girl would have had 2 dresses, one to wear while the other was being washed. They used aprons to help keep the dresses clean. So ladies, think about that the next time you whine that you have nothing to wear!

This rocking chair is the only piece of original furniture in the fort. It was owned by the orignal lady of the house. As you can see, it's rather small, she was only 4'11".

They let me go up the stairs and check out the vantage from the roof area. Here's a pic across the road, and there's my awesome bike that brought me here!

Since the fort was built as a defensive location, there were shooting ports on all 4 walls. The ports on the sides where the residences were are on the roof.

My tour guides in the fort were really very nice and patiently let me take all the pictures I wanted. As I was exiting the fort the lady asked me if I wanted my picture taken. Honestly no, I don't really care for pictures of myself, but I'm trying to get over that so I handed her the camera. Thanks tour guides, you were awesome!

On the way to the barn sat this wagon. It was known as a "Prarie Schooner". According to the sign on it, it's half the size of a Connestoga wagon, the big wagons you always see in the movies. The sign also gave a breakdown of how much it would have cost for the wagon, oxen, food etc. It reminded me of the really old computer game Oregon Trail, only it didn't end with "You all died of Dysentary." I liked the sign better I think ;)

The barn was huge. This isn't the orginal barn but is a period reproduction. According to my new guide (the dude sitting down in the picture) the timbers were cut in northern Utah and then shipped back east where the Amish cut them how they needed to fit and then brought them back out here and assembled them. Seems like a lot of work for a period barn, but it looked really good so it must be worth it.

The framing was put together with wooden pegs. The only nails used in the entire structure I'm told was in the floor boards.

Anything horse related always makes me think of my friend Mary who trains horses (there Mary, I said friend, you happy?) How do you think Leo would like wearing one of these and pulling a wagon or a stage coach?

Here's a picture inside the ice house. The floor is covered in sawdust and I believe if there was ice in here it would also be covered in sawdust which would act as an insulator. I'm guessing they didn't drink ice water much back then.

Here's some Ox Shoes. You'll notice they come split down the middle. Unlike horses, oxen are cloven foot animals and so each foot has two "toes". I didn't know this until the guide told me, but an ox is just a cow that has been trained to pull in tandem with another cow, or team of cows. In some way's oxen made better team animals that horses because a cow can eat just about anything while a horse has a rather specialized diet. Plus, if your ox breaks down, you can always make hamburger ;)

Something else I didn't know was that unlike a horse which can balance on only 3 legs for quite a while, an ox can't. If the blacksmith tried to shoe an ox by having it lift one leg for any real length of time, the ox would collapse from its own weight. So they come up with this little devise. You'd get the ox in there and then sinch the leather straps under its belly. This would help support the ox's weight while the blacksmith worked on it's feet. I'd like to know what they did of the ox threw a shoe out on the open range?

I enjoyed my tour of Cove Fort and learned a few things I didn't know. I decided it was time to enjoy some food, so I had a couple of granola bars and some water. If anyone has suggestions of food that isn't messy, won't go bad in the heat, doesn't require cooking and isn't in a can, please let me know. Granola bars are ok, but they are very dry.

The weather looked like it was getting ready to turn so I figured I'd better head out. On the way back over the mountain I hit road construction. I am soooo tired of seeing signs that say "Loose Gravel". In a car it's a minor annoyance, maybe you get some chipped paint or a cracked windshield. On a motorcycle it can mean you will lose traction and dump your bike. This sign always makes me nervous.

I made it through the construction and up and over the summit. On the way down the cross winds were bad again, bad enough that I slowed to 65 instead of the 75mph speed limit. While listening to my music and enjoying occasional glimpes of beautiful scenery between my attempts to keep the bike on the road and in my lane I looked down and notice my speedometer was at 0.... er that's not right.

For a minute or two I worried that something had gone horribly wrong, a snapped speedo cable, the gearing finally gave up, you name it. After pondering all the worse case scenarios I leaned forward to get a better look and realize it had just come loose from the back of the speedometer... annoying but fixable. I decided to pull over and pray no one hit me while I was on the side of the road hooking up the only thing that really could tell me how much gas I had left.

Mission accomplished I hopped back on the bike and accelerated as fast as I could back up to the speed limit. I decided to chance the weather and try and get some pictures of Castle Rock. This camping area is literally across the freeway from the Freemont Indian State Park (ie Exit 17 on I-70). It has changed a lot since I was younger and camped here. It still has a lovely dirt road, and my street tires did their best to remind me they weren't made for this type of riding. I stayed upright and was grateful to see the posted speed limit was 15mph, not so fast I'd lose control or have to worry about being rear ended.

With the weather still threatening to turn wet I only snapped a couple of pictures, but I think you can see the reason it was named Castle Rock.

I left Castle Rock a little sad that I couldn't stay longer and hike around a bit. The land formations are really cool, or at least there were when I was a child

I entered the freeway again and headed back for Richfield. It sprinkled a little and the air was cool and smelled of moisture, but my luck held and there wasn't any major rain.

Here's a picture of the pet bobcat in my uncles house. Ok, so he's not really a bobcat, but he's really big. I'm guessing he has some Maine Coone in him, or else he's eating Miracle Grow. He's a really cool cat, super mellow and just LOVES to be pet. Unfortunatel he sheds like mad and so I only pet him for a little while. If Katrina reads this, he's about the size of Dude, but friendlier :)