I moved swiftly and effortlessly up I-65 at interstate speeds. Such a stark contrast to my fateful interstate run on the Raven, on May 5. In that run, I was buffetted by winds and it felt like the turbulence from each passing semi would rip my head off.
Here I glided by, among and between four-wheeled cages and 18-wheelers.
At US-24 I headed west, and before long I was getting wet. Nothing like some of the deluges I've been caught in before. The sky looks patchy to the west, so I'm betting this won't last long. I think I'll continue to ride and not don my rain gear.
By Goodland it was a steady rain, so I pulled off at a filling station (no need for more gas yet) and ducked out of the rain. From the cover of the canopy over the pumps, I called my wife on the cell phone. She was ahead of me; we were making no effort to travel in lock step, each of us were setting our own stops as needed.
She confirmed, the rain was not so bad ahead.
I left off the rain gear. The rain was tapering off, to a light misting. So I threw my leg across the saddle again and pointed the nose west.
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