This morning it was 42 degrees way up in these mountains, some coyotes were talking out across the valley and a horse was peering in the window while I enjoyed a cup of coffee. Life on a horse ranch. My Harley-Davidson was sitting outside, not really the worse for wear after a week of running around the west. Initially, I'd intended to take off for the midwest, but once on the road, I ended up in Wyoming. I have no idea why, but in my current life I rarely have any idea about why I do whatever it is I am doing. I had planned to ride over to Rapid City and then get on Interstate 90, but once I got to the pavement from here, I thought Highway 385 would be interesting on into Nebraska and east. Once I reached Custer, South Dakota, the big loud bike went west to Newcastle, Wyoming and then beyond. For anyone who is similarly inclined to wander around in such a sparsely populated state, I learned some things from this little adventure and I thought I'd pass them along. So, in no particular order...

- An antelope on the side of the road is scenery. A herd of antelope standing on the road is scary. Running a big bike at over 100 miles an hour when encountering the herd of antelope is stupid. It places a lot of stress on things like tires, brakes and heart muscles. Not a religious person? No problem, you'll be talking to Jesus for hours once you get stopped. On a similar note, tiny brown things that dart across the road are chipmunks. Slightly larger critters are prairie dogs. Anything brown that is taller than your handlebars is a problem. When you see a whole lot of brown blurs, all of them taller than your handlebars and you're passing through them, it's time to stop and thank the Lord that He decided that there's a place on this earth for truly stupid people, and you've become a member of that illustrious group.

- The people in Medicine Bow, Wyoming will be nice and helpful if you arrive in a Chevy Suburban and you are wearing a cowboy hat. I know that from my past life, when I spent some incredibly good times just north of that town. However, the people in Medicine Bow will be slightly more cautious when you arrive on an incredibly loud Harley that has flat black paint and a wolf on the oil tank and a "Silver Dollar Saloon, Hill City, SD" bumper sticker on the fender, covered in dust and mud, while wearing a Hadji rag on your head. No, they will not be the least bit impressed that you were going over 90 miles an hour into their town just so you could keep up with the train. They're used to fast freight trains. They are not used to strange people with tattoos, three earrings in one ear and riding on two wheels, they sure will look at you as if you have four heads and are from another planet.

- It is possible to shoot a prairie dog with a Browning Hi-Power pistol while riding a motorcycle (I do amaze myself sometimes). It is unlikely that anyone can hit a prairie dog with a shot from any handgun once the dirt road suddenly drops into a creek (I'm not as amazed by this, I'm known for being an idiot). And, the water is very cold. At least I learned that at 50 years old, I can still scream like a little girl. A personal note: I know and have the papers showing that my bike is making right at 101 horsepower. That means it's way too powerful for a little old guy like me. What that really means is that riding the bike on a dirt road while shooting at anything is not showing skill, it's showing another side of stupid. However, it was fun. Dumb but fun.

- When a highway sign says "No Gas For 60 Miles," that actually means no gas for 60 miles plus another 30 miles to get to a gas station that is still in business. Harleys are very heavy, you do not want to push one. I didn't have to push mine but I think that was because I am very good at asking God for favors. What that actually means is that I am great at pleading and groveling, while learning that God does indeed have a sense of humor.

-When motoring along a beautiful road across a valley and you see big white electric-generating windmills at the end of the valley, and when the windmills appear to be spinning really fast, that is a great indicator that, yes, it's windy there and to slow down. Suddenly riding at a 45 degree angle on a flat road does not help one's sense of natural appreciation. While a situation like this can teach you that you have full control over your bodily functions, it's still not recommended. If not, have some spare underwear.

- Coyotes howling at night while you are under a tarp next to your bike and 100 miles from nowhere only sound closer than they really are. At least I hoped that was true. Grip strength is directly proportional to fear. I hope I can still get magazines into my pistol since I seem to have bent the grip frame on my gun.

- Cattle haulers drive very fast, the drivers have big Kenworths or Peterbilts with huge engines. The trailers on their trucks are full of cattle. Cattle make manure. Manure can fly out of the trailers with incredible accuracy. It won't matter that you see the projectiles coming, it is truly smart manure. Heat-seeking manure. Plan accordingly or know where there are creeks to wash your clothes.

- Giant black clouds rolling in from the west are actually a direct message from God telling you to go east very quickly. Or, enjoy the hail that you are about to receive.

If you're out riding, be safe. Some real lessons: carry twice the water that you'd planned, cover up all exposed skin, that means all. Carry a wool blanket, not only does it get cold even in the summer but a wool blanket will block hail from hitting your bike. Pack a big-caliber handgun. No people will bother you, but critters might. No varmints bothered me, but I'd have much rather have had a 45 ACP or a 44 Magnum than a 9mm. When you think you might need shelter, find that instantly. Better to sit and watch the prairie grass than ride through a storm. Thank God for such beautiful country, He created it. Stop in Buckhorn, Wyoming for some good food and cold beer. That's not too far from where I am living right now.

My next adventure is this fall but I'll be doing that excursion to Missouri in a truck. I think I won't learn as much on that trip. Perhaps that's just wishful thinking.