Fogged and Frozen.

The ride south was for the most part uneventful. Mile after mile unravelled, and it became a matter of gas, coffee, gas, coffee, gas, pee, coffee, gas. I felt pretty fresh, so I carried on to Grand Prairie, and arrived there about 10 PM, after leaving at 8 AM. The sky was slightly overcast, so the remaining heat of the day was held down, and it was quite nice.

SIDE STORY: I'm willing to give most folks the benefit of the doubt, bit these Alberta yokels really are starting to irk me. I was travelling south, about 5km from Grand Prairie, it's dark, road construction is clearly marked 80km/hr....no passing. I'm going 110km/hr, and two 4x4 trucks(the ones with the fat tires and high springs)blow by me like I'm standing still, showering me with all manner of debris. WTH!!!

SECOND SIDE STORY: Right after the above incident, I pull in for gas. I'm finished filling, and getting geared up,and this jerkwad pulls his brand new Mustang up behind me, and starts reving the engine. I turn to him, and say"what, you want this pump?" I look around, and the entire island is empty...there are seven other pumps open, and you want this one??? I'm already more than a little miffed over the last deal, but when you are alone, hundreds of miles from home, it's perhaps wise to suck it up and move on. A look around the town showed similar attitudes.....young men(boys) roaring around in 60k dollar trucks, spewing attitude, and trying to show how macho they are. Too much money...too little brains.

I was in too good a mood to let these incidents ruin it, so I carried on down the road. As I neared Fox Creek, I noticed the cloud cover had cleared, and the stars were shining brightly...not good. Still feeling good, I decided to push on. I could feel the temp dropping, but my heated vest kept me comfy, only my feet were getting a little cool.
About 50km short of Whitecourt the fog dropped in like a cold, wet blanket. the fog was freezing on the windshield, and on my visor. They have these huge luminous moose on posts by the side of the road, to warn of wildlife, and they kept freaking me out when the headlights would catch them. One actual deer did show it's face, but it turned back into the ditch. The closer I got to Whitecourt, the thicker the fog got. Now I'm getting cold. The only part of me that was warm was my torso, everything else was numb. I even froze my nose a little, as I had to run with the visor up, as it was frosted over. Finally, Whitecourt crept into view through the fog, and I recognized the Esso sign.
 Pulling in for gas, thankful to be anywhere, I limped in to pay for the fuel. The attendant was a nice fella, so I asked him if he knew of a cheap place I could hole up for what was left of the night. It was about 2am. He said cheap good, or just cheap. I said of course "just cheap". He directed me to a place at the far end of town, and I putted out of there, carefully watching for the hotel sign, as you could barely make out the names through the fog.  On the way, a truck load of punks shadowed me, taunting me with insults and general verbal abuse. I know I heard the word "retard" at least once. They peeled off, and, after thinking I had passed it, the sign popped into view. I pulled in, and guess who was there...yes, my buddies from the white truck.
I was in no mood to be abused further, frozen and tired. I took off my helmet and started toward the truck. I must have looked pretty bizarre, with my seven hairs all going in a different direction, and my huge globes all bloodshot from peering through the fog. Also, without thinking about it at the time, I must have looked huge, as I was wearing every jacket I had brought(seven layers). Luckily, this picture of a huge, crazy looking old dude with bloodshot eyes coming to square off must have been enough for them to think twice, and they lit out. I waited until they were out of earshot, and shouted after them "come back, and taunt me once again, you spineless wieners", or something equally as stupid, but it was enough to satisfy any onlookers.
I walked into the lobby, and it was attached to a bar, and I was the center of attention for a short time, as folks were amazed to see a bike pull out of the fog, intact and running. Walking over to the desk, a friendly young chap(I think he was gay) helped me to register for a room...it was the kind of joint where you had to leave a damage deposit in case you destroyed the room.
I had unplugged the heated vest to dismount, and the cold blood from my extremities rushed into my core, and I started to shake like a leaf. It was all I could do to stutter "do you have a roo.....rrooo...rrrooo.....rrrrooooo.....rrrrrroooommmm?? " He was very accommodating, and gave me a room with a window that I could keep an eye on my bike from. No need....after 18 hours on the road, and frozen stiff, I had a hot shower and sacked out hard. At 7am I woke and, feeling fresh went into the diner for my COMPLIMENTARY breaky......eggs, bacon, hash browns, buttered toast...all stuff I was trying to eliminate from my diet....one word...yummy. Sorry, I'll try harder.

over and out     philly