Part Four: Into the Light
Over six hours of riding in the dark had me ready for the warmth of the sun. When I gassed up near Indianapolis, I switched from my summer to winter gloves and fired up my heated grips. Saint Louis brought not only a gorgeous bridge to look at, but a bit of warmth I associate with urban areas, confirmed by an uptick in displayed air temperature. Leaving Saint Louis behind also left those couple degrees of warmth in the mirror, and I found myself saying out loud, “Come on up sun, I need a little bit of your warmth.”
Darkness was starting to yield to Earth’s inexorable revolution, with woods and fields starting to appear as smudges in a monochromatically gray landscape. As dawn overtook me despite my best efforts at outrunning it, color returned to my world. I had no idea how beautiful and rolling Missouri is.
Descending the towards the bridge that spans the Missouri River, fog rolled up from below. Mist hung from the trees, clung to fields. It is for moments like this that I ride. This is why the same section of road holds untold mysteries, for temperature, time, mist, fog, clouds, rain, sunlight, and moonlight combine in a variety of ways to create an untold number of visions.
Just west of Columbia, I pull it and go through my routine, which has been modified to include “Send Gas Stop message in SWConnect” with one hand while fueling with the other. It is here that I made the most grave error of my ride - the collection of the receipt. For some reason, I have no idea why, I tuned out the details of the receipt, focusing on writing mileage, marking the spot, and getting on down the road. So, I did get a receipt:
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