Finding Fifth Gear

Dawn's early light...

Day Three, and Big red and I have settled into our routine. My riders roll off…this morning at 6 AM…I tidy up, batten hatches, check my maps, and we roll out on the truck route. There is almost always another camper in sight, but sometimes when the directions are confusing, we lead each other astray.

Heading off to Webster City
I totally missed the mid day meeting spot today. I must have missed a turn, and when I tried to correct, I got into a construction zone where a flag man made me wait 10 minutes for the “pilot car” to lead me and the other unfortunate campers that followed me through the work zone. Unfortunately, we were all lost.

I actually went back around again, determined to find the way to Fahrnamville …the flag man and I got well acquainted…but by then Arthur and Annie had seen enough of Fahrnamville, and they waved me on to Webster City by text message.

Last spring,Big Red underwent major surgery when his transmission failed. Arthur converted him from an automatic to a six speed manual, and while I’m getting better acquainted each day with the feel of the six forward gears, it does provide some excitement from time to time.

Downshifting from sixth to fifth is always exciting, since third, sixth, and reverse are all next to one another. However bad it is to find third when you want fifth, it’s really bad to find reverse when you want fifth. I hereby apologize to Big Red for all the times he really wanted a lower gear, and I made him tough it out rather than chance the sixth to fifth downshift.

Since I am alone and the radio coverage is spotty, I do talk to him. Mostly, “Whoa, big guy,” and “Steady, Red.”

As I write this, I am parked at our next resting spot at the Harrison County Fairgrounds in Webster City. The infield of the oval dirt car track was full, so we are on the track itself, watching for the riders and getting ready to make the daily foray for ice and beer. I have my own bike along for errand, and the panniers easily hold two six packs.

In this lull, I will tell you about our excitement of last night. We had settled in for the night and were just drifting off when there was a loud bang and enough of a jolt to our camper home that all three Merrows sat bolt upright and said a unison, “Holy (expletive)!” Arthur said, “I think we’ve been hit,” and sure enough, another truck had backed into Big Red’s front end. The driver was to be forgiven because, besides the fact that we could find no damage, he was in a hurry to drive one of his riders for medical help. We learned this morning that the rider spent the night in the hospital on IV fluids for heat exhaustion.

My riders have rolled in, after a long slog through stiff head winds and a flat tire. Once again they have been rinsed, watered, and fed a snack before we search out the evening’s entertainment. On tomorrow to Marshalltown!