Northbound Milepost

Felt the high-desert crosswind pushing hard against the handlebars after an hour of straight north blacktop. I geared down and eased the blue cruiser onto a broad gravel turnout behind a sun-bleached wooden weigh station. Stepped off to let the twin cylinders tick off heat while looking over the bike's rigging. Road grit had caked thick along the lower swingarm, but the canvas bedroll and saddlebag straps were locked down tight. I hauled out my battered steel canteen, popped the cap, and took a long, cold pull. Nothing ahead but sagebrush flats, jagged timber ridges, and two lanes of empty asphalt rolling straight toward the state line. Machine's running clean.

1 Nauk