I checked the weather forecast for the Pacificic Northwest. It looked like rain for the next ten days, so I decided on a major re-route. Instead of Seattle being the first corner, I'd head for some sun and make San Diego the first corner. Las Vegas wasn't far, 449 miles away. The new plan would be to head for Vegas, then see the Hoover Dam and Grand Canyon on my way to Phoenix, Arizona. Afer that, I'll head to San Deigo, reach my first corner, then LA and up to the coast.
To get to Vegas, I'd have to head west and then south. West would take me through some mountains in Utah, and south back to the desert. As I headed west, it quickly got cold and windy, and once again I had to put on all my cold weather/rain gear. Then it got dark. Very dark afer just 70 miles of driving. I pulled over to a rest area that luckily had a roof that provided some shelter. As soon as I got of the bike it began to hail. Small-sized hail, but hail nonetheless. For two and a half hours it would hail for a few minutes, then stop, hail and stop. I stood shivering hating this trip I am taking. It was the lowest point mentally I had been, and thoughts of quitting entered my mind.
There was a break in the weather, and I thought this is my chance to get to a town, the nearest to the west was Salina, 30 miles away. I jumped on my bike and took off. Much to my chagrin, it got dark and I rode through brief hail storms. Slowly and steadily, and in pain as hail pricked my face, I made it to Salina, cold, wet, and angry, but 106 miles closer to Vegas. It was as if the weather thought I had a drink that needed freshening up with some ice. Uh, weather, I don't have a drink, so please stop providing me with little balls of ice. While I appreciate the thought, stick it where the sun don't shine, which at this point, is anywhere I am. I took a hot shower and dreamt of sunshine and warmth in Vegas the next day.
Hail falling on the roof of the rest area that provided much needed shelter.
Uh weather I don't have a drink.
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