[Racer X 69]

When I worked as an over the road truck driver I found there are two, distinctly different seasons.


Winter.


And construction.


You know that winter is over by two signs.


The bugs that suddenly appear from nowhere and cover the windshield of the truck, and the sudden proliferation of orange barrel zones channeling interstate lanes down to one lane, clogging traffic flow.

[Parallax]

When I bought my first car, a Honda Coupe, (600 cc, air cooled engine that redlined at 63mph) I had never driven a manual transmission before.
I drove it off of the dealer's lot at 5:00 p.m. on a Friday evening. Okay, maybe not a big deal except the dealer was in San Francisco and I had to get it home through the hills of San Francisco, in rush hour traffic, across the Golden Gate Bridge and to northern Marin County.
My knuckles were white for three days.

[Parallax]

When I worked as an over the road truck driver I found there are two, distinctly different seasons.


Winter.


And construction.


You know that winter is over by two signs.


The bugs that suddenly appear from nowhere and cover the windshield of the truck, and the sudden proliferation of orange barrel zones channeling interstate lanes down to one lane, clogging traffic flow.

Ahhhh, you've driven through South Dakota.
We have 4 seasons:
Winter's coming.
Winter.
Still Winter.
Road construction. (AKA "Where the Hell did all these bugs come from?" or "#@*&$+@# it's hot!")

[Racer X 69]

Ahhhh, you've driven through South Dakota.


Road construction. (AKA "Where the Hell did all these bugs come from?" or "#@*&$+@# it's hot!")

This was back in May of 2010 in Sioux Falls after running across South Dakota from Billings, through Belle Fourche, and Rapid City.








I started the day with a spotless windshield.


But South Dakota doesn't have exclusive rights to bugs.


Here is a shot after running from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan to Medicine Hat, Alberta back in August of 2009 (wow, it has been nearly ten years since I made that run).