Prairie Thunderstorms-Some Dump On You, Some Don’t

Wet Tent, Saskatchewan
July 14, `80

Hello journal. Tonight you’re talking to one tired desperado. At
lunch, I met a man who told me Calgary was 256 miles due west, a two
day ride. Those miles have just caught up with me. I stopped a bit
early when I found this secluded campsite. I’m in a gully on the other
side of the railroad tracks that separates me from the highway. It
looks like Saskatchewan is going to create some problems come tent
time. It’s flatter, less trees, and more farms.

Bicycling wasn’t as good today. The sun did its job, ninety-two
degrees worth. When the clouds rolled in, I was beginning to cook. I
was lucky. With the clouds, came the storms. Bicycling on the prairie
you get to watch the thunderstorms roll in. Some dump rain on you,
some don’t. Wondering when it’s your turn causes considerable anxiety.
Right now there is a black cloud coming in over my shoulder. We’ll see
how that turns out. If it rains, I’m just going to close my eyes hard
and roll over. I’m only a page away from turning the lights out anyway.

Morning rain is the best; you’re fresh and can enjoy it. There’s a
good chance you will dry out before the day is through. But evening
rain is nothing short of melancholy because you have nothing to look
forward too except—wet, cold, and tired. No tenth gear today, instead
there was a headwind, and a shitty highway that varied between cracked
asphalt to cinder surface. Aside from the intense heat that sapped my
morning energy, and the thunderstorms that upped my anxiety level, the
day wasn’t too bad. I made good miles. Also, just before I found this
campsite, I stopped at a Dairy Queen and bought a fish dinner and had
a Dilly Bar desert.


About bwinwnbwi

About me: Marvin Gaye’s song, "What’s Going On" was playing on the jukebox when I went up to the counter and bought another cup of coffee. When I got back, the painting on the wall next to where I was sitting jumped out at me, the same way it had done many times before. On it was written a diatribe on creativity. It was the quote at the bottom, though, that brought me back to this seat time after time. The quote had to do with infinity; it went something like this: Think of yourself as being in that place where infinity comes together in a point; where the infinite past and the infinite future meet, where you are at right now. The quote was attributed to Hermann Hesse, but I didn’t remember reading it in any of the books that I had read by him, so I went out and bought Hesse’s last novel, Magister Ludi. I haven’t found the quote yet, but I haven't tired of looking for it either.
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