Night in the Sage

Cut the cruiser's throttle as deep dark settled over the sagebrush plains. Steered the bike off the asphalt onto a packed dirt clearing behind a leaning timber livestock shelter. The thick pine walls cut off the biting desert draft clean. I unstrapped my canvas bedroll from the rear chrome rack, shaking the desert dust free before spreading it flat across a patch of dry pine needles. Pulled my pocket knife and carved off two thick pieces of smoked jerky, chewing slow while listening to the motorcycle engine tick down its heat into the quiet dark. Solid shelter, empty road behind me. Time to bed down.