Day Two:
Our first stop is the HOG's (aka Harley Owner Group) holy headquarters and factory buildings of Harley-Davidson, a company started in 1903, the same year that Henry Ford began the car industry that changed the world-at least for the common man, as Henry intended by building cars on an assembly line for the masses, just so they could do what we were doing--take road trips and see the beauty of our land.
Shedding the busyness and city buildings of Milwaukee, also home to Miller Brewing Company, we struck out a westerly path on Interstate 94/90 toward the Mississippi River that slices Wisconsin from Minnesota. One cheese stop later, we were marveling at the scenic rivers and lake's region known as the Wisconsin Dells, along with the Great River Bluffs State Park noted for its picturesque waterway scenery. We notice "Hawg Pasture Cycles" with `Sturgis' inscribed on a barn's side wall, and begin to become aware that we are sharing the road with more bikers, most of whom sport Harley-Davidson on their fuel tanks and jackets and give us a thumbs-up, when they see this `08 truck-- not yet at dealers!
Today, as we stretch our legs and hunker down for another 1,000 miles of riding, the splendor of a road trip comes to light. The pensive and dreamy thoughts of more road trips, rather than so many short jaunts, settles in for a good chew. We make note to come back some day to The Spam Museum, advertised by billboard along the roadside in a way that tickles our funny bones, and Blue Earth, MN, a place name with a view that touches our hearts.
When weather hits and rain pelts our windshield, we appreciate our warm, dry cockpit--and even heated seats, as we pass bikers braving the elements, singular and coupled bodies streamed aerodynamically along their bike seats, with rain gear pulled taut over their leathers. Farms, barns and the American heartland become our panoramic vista, as we trim southern Minnesota on 90 West, which innocuously morphs to South Dakota, where bikers begin to dot the landscape. Pulling off the highway at Mitchell, we get one of the last motel room's for miles around and park our Ford Harley-Davidson truck amongst the 2-wheeled crowd that immediately comes to oogle and ask questions. The odometer has ticked off 975 miles and we are excitedly within a half-days drive of the bulls-eye.