The road is still somewhat curvy with regular ups and downs and I keep speeds down to 50mph. This is about as fast as I feel comfortable riding while keeping a safety margin in this weather and visibility. Traffic is very light. I see maybe several vehicles an hour, mostly pick-up trucks. So I’m one of the very few who is out here dancing with the deer on this glorious evening!

I’m also mindful of the fact that if I were to go down, it could be a while before help arrived. In fact, if I ended up in the ditch with the bike lights out, it is entirely probable that people would drive by without seeing me.

As I come over another crest I spot a second dead deer lying in the middle of the road. This one is neatly cut in two with the head-to-chest half in the middle of the road. I don't know where the lower half was, maybe in the ditch. I had often heard of deer being literally cut in two after impact and now I had actually seen one. As I ride by, I think about the vehicle that hit this animal and the one that hit the previous one tonight. Obviously they didn’t stop; I hope they’re ok.

There’s a swirling, relatively thick mist that forms over the road whenever I ride sections that are sheltered from the winds. As it alternates between totally obscuring the road and providing me with elusive and fleeting glimpses, it feels like I’m floating and gliding over a nebula. I ride over some stretches of road that look positively eerie and fascinating. Truly memorable!

As always, gas is in the back of my mind. The pattern tonight has been that there is one gas station open at approx. every 120 miles and so I’m not overly concerned. I have no reason to believe that this pattern will not continue. In addition, my slower average speed is improving my range somewhat.

At 4am, I finally come across a small resort town offering national motel chains. I pull in to a Super8 motel lot and do a quick assessment as I ride towards the front doors. Before I can reach them, I pause momentarily and take stock. I decide that I’m not tired enough to warrant stopping now, only to check out by 10:30am.

Back in Iron River, there had been some grumbling of freezing weather on the way and I want to continue distancing myself from it, constantly weighing current risk against future risk. I'm still feeling quite alert. And so, I push on.

As I ride, I reflect on the importance of good gear in adverse conditions. So far I’ve been well protected from the weather. I’m completely sealed against the elements with not a square inch of skin exposed. My electric vest, set on low simmer, soothingly replaces lost body heat.

But now, for some reason, my triple digit gloves are just starting to leak-in a little water. I can feel it come down slowly by my wrist and palm. Of course my leather gloves absorb this water like a sponge. I suspect that with enough rain and for a long-enough period of time, the over-the-sleeve gauntlet eventually lets water seep down the sleeve, even with the elastic pulled tight.

Or maybe it’s just that the gauntlet eventually slips down the forearm a little, allowing a gap. This will have to wait, as there is no shelter for me to pull under allowing me to investigate further.

I’m now riding at between 45 and 50mph. As I think about how frustrating it is to be progressing so slowly with so much road still ahead of me, I go by a hidden patrol car partly concealed in the bushes. As he sits in his warm car with engine idling, I can’t help but wonder what this officer might be thinking. Does he really expect anyone to be exceeding the speed limit in this misty/foggy weather? I think to myself that he could be doing something more constructive, such as providing me with a safety escort!

Or could it be that he’s heard that there was a lone motorcycle rider tracking eastward on rte 2 and he was setting up an ambush?

Nahh!

Bruno
Montreal, Canada