Back on 81, I once again settle into a brisk pace. This truck corridor bristles with eighteen-wheelers intent on making good time. When riding at night, variety is rarely an issue here, nor is boredom. There are always trucks to pass, trucks to follow, and trucks to dispatch as they hog the left lane.

Riding a bike at times like these often puts me intensely in the moment. An unusual but pleasant state of mind. Simultaneously heightened focus and yet detachment. I think of nothing else but the moment as it unfolds. No past thoughts creep in, no future worries, no competing present thoughts either. Only focus and flow as I lyrically and effortlessly ballet my way around these rolling mammoths.

In times like these, I feel a certain oneness with my machine. It seems to become an extension of my body and of my thoughts. Though this feeling can happen at any time of day, I am more likely to experience it when riding in the dark. Maybe this partly explains why I enjoy night riding on interstates.

Highway 81 (somewhere in northern Pennsylvania) is now in horrible condition. A crater-infested, rough piece of road. Traffic is moving quickly and road-surface visibility is often shrouded by the slower trucks. At one point I unexpectedly go over a crater-like pothole; cannot avoid it. The front tire hits hard. Damn.

This road is the pits. Shortly after, there are so many that I set up doing an aggressive slalom-like weaving down my lane. At 70 mph or so, with my headlight sweeping back and forth, it’s almost dizzying. But I have no choice. There are that many potholes.

Other than that, it rains for most of the night. Nothing major, just on and off.

By 4am I'm feeling my regular energy lull. Typically I get a strong urge for a motel room by about this time. I know this and expect it. I quickly find a quiet spot behind a multi service gas station and stop for a short nap. This my litmus test. If I wake refreshed, I know I'm good to go. If not, I know I need to stop.

Sitting on the bike, helmeted head on my tankbag, I delve into a power nap. Fifteen minutes later I wake up, refreshed and ready to go.

It's now 6:30am. The last two hours have been uneventful and I'm now at my second low-energy point. I can feel myself becoming tired and pull off the highway. I'm looking for a relatively secluded spot where I can take another quick power nap.

I pull into what seems to be some type of little-used truck parking lot. It seems that there is some sort of nearby construction activity going on during the daytime.

I park facing the street, maybe two hundred feet back, and again lie down over my tankbag while still wearing my helmet and gloves. I'm soon plunged into a deep nap.

Fifteen minutes later my eyes open. I straighten up and notice that one of the construction signalers has been looking my way. His shift must be just starting as he was not there before. I hope that he wasn't worried. As I ride by I wave and get a wave back. I feel refreshed.

Bruno
Montreal, Canada