55th Class Reunion on a Two-Wheeled SUV

Dick Fredericksen's Website 55th Class Reunion on a Two-Wheeled SUV

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55th Class Reunion on a Two-Wheeled SUV:

A Two-Wheeled What?

Laying On the Utility

Thinking Small for a Big Trip

Day 1: Tucson to Las Cruces

Day 2: The Road to Santa Rosa

Day 3: Kittycorner to Kansas

Days 4 and 5: Wet Wichita, Sunny St. Joseph

Day 6: This Way to Humboldt

Enjoying Humboldt (Iowa)

Gas Tank Blackjack

The Real Kansas in Technicolor

A Liberal Dose of Memories

Holbrook? How Did We Wind Up In Holbrook?

Painted, Petrified, and Perfect

The Home Home Stretch

Day 6: This Way to Humboldt

This is it! US Highway 169 will take me all the rest of the way. It runs through Humboldt and has a certain sentimental value, from much usage. In 1999, just to get the whole picture, I picked it up at its point of origin, in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The closer I get to Humboldt, the more familiar places there will be. Halfway from Fort Dodge to Humboldt, there is even a stretch which, in my high school days, I once reached on foot. By then I was footsore enough to accept a ride.

The scenery in northwest Missouri is hilly and grassy; southern Iowa mkes a transition, and north of that is mostly cornfields. Once again, there would be a good case for scenic photography, but once again, the weather was undependable. In Missouri there were a few miles of fog, and then in Iowa, sunshine would alternate with dense banks of clouds. At one point, just as I was heaving a sigh of relief that the road would pass to the west of some ominous-looking clouds, it turned east and cavorted right into them. They weren't as bad as they looked, however, and the ride was uneventful.

Maybe I'd have been more confident if Bradgate, a little town a few miles north of Humboldt, hadn't recently been leveled by a tornado. Also, just before my trip, Clark Lane, the cousin who was planning to greet me with a family dinner, related to me how he had recently dodged incipient tornadoes all the way from southern Iowa to Humboldt. Nothing like a dinner engagement and tornado stories to hurry one along.

One novelty which I had forgotten was a short stretch in southern Iowa with signs warning the driver to be alert for animal-drawn vehicles. Sure enough, I passed one horse-drawn rig going north, and met another coming south. There must be an Amish presence in the neighborhood. Given their attitude towards modern transportation, I wondered what they might think of motorcycles and bikers. I'm happy to report that I received a friendly wave.

I reached Humboldt in mid-afternoon, in plenty of time for the planned dinner -- only to find that one pair of relatives had been unable to make it, so the event was called off. No matter. I dined with Clark and one of his grandchildren, and had plenty of time in the ensuing week to visit other relatives individually.