OMD Travelogue | Day 108

[x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/2″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_counter num_start=”0″ num_end=”5″ num_speed=”1500″ num_prefix=”” num_suffix=”” num_color=”#2ecc71″ text_above=”Rode for” text_below=”Hours” text_color=””][x_gap size=”45px” class=”x-hide-xl x-hide-lg x-hide-md “][/x_column][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/2″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_counter num_start=”0″ num_end=”260″ num_speed=”1500″ num_prefix=”” num_suffix=”” num_color=”#3498db” text_above=”Covered” text_below=”Miles” text_color=””][/x_column][/x_row][/x_section][x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/1″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_text]Out of breath, I stop what I’m doing. Look up.

The man stares for a moment, taking in the situation carefully. Looks like ya got yourself good and stuck, he says.

Sinking deeper into the mud I laugh, Sure did. Wanted to get a picture next to the river, but here I am instead.

He sighs. Well, let’s get you out. Grabs a tow rope, hands me one end.

I turn, head back into the mud. Watch it, ya little shit, he says as Baylor approaches him. I raise an eyebrow, pretty sure no one’s ever said that to Bay before. I imagine he’d load a working dog into the bed of his spotless truck, give ‘em a doghouse outside and call it good. I custom build a sidecar for my pup, make decisions about where to go and what to do that revolve completely around him. We have different ideas about what role a dog plays. No right or wrong, just different.

Rufio freed, I thank him again. Use my hands to scrape sticky earth from the tires. Hope you have better luck from here on out, he says. I have great luck, I tell him. It was lucky that you came along with a tow rope. He smiles, shakes his head at my muddy, sunny disposition.

Endless flatlands morph into gently rolling hills. Fields filled with round bales, dotted with ancient cottonwoods. Days of blue skies and bright sun are gone. The rain is constant, the clouds low and thick.

Having lost track of where we are, I pull off the highway. Night has snuck up on us yet again, time to get off the road pronto. Pulling under a light at the massive truck stop I study the map. Sensing movement out of my peripheral, I look up. Startle at the man standing next to me. He smiles. I return the gesture a bit less enthusiastically. Look around the empty parking lot.

This is the best thing I’ve seen, he says. I gotta get a picture for the Facebook. Smiling fully, I tell him to go ahead. Pull out a card and hand him one. He explains that he works here as a security guard. I was retired, about to drive my wife crazy. Had to either get a divorce or get a new wife. Silence fills the air. I’ve still got her, he says looking at me.

I ask about the sign indicating camping on past the truck stop. He tells me to go on down there, not to worry. It’s plenty safe, he patrols the area all night. Gives me a hug, gotta keep you safe.

Tucked into the tent, Baylor lays his head on my stomach. I stare into the darkness, listen to the steady drum of rain on the tent. Our newfound friend had asked, Wouldn’t the roads be a heck of a lot safer if everyone drove as cautiously as you do with your dog on the motorcycle?

And I can’t help but wonder, Wouldn’t life be a heck of a lot more pleasant if everyone was as friendly as they are when you adventure with your dog on a motorcycle?

108 days down. Many to come.

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