Joe, sitting in his office in Chicago, replied, "I'll meet you in the Badlands. I'll grow my hair."
Joe likes the way his hair sticks straight backward after a day on the bike. Joe has known the Spouse since college. He's been with us since the before the beginning.
The Spouse left me in Missoula and stayed in the KOA in Billings the next night. He warned his neighboring camper that he was getting a very loud, very early start, laid his ground-pad on the picnic table, and slept in his clothing.
During the early nineties, the Spouse, Joe and another friend rode from Chicago, through Canada and into Alaska. They almost reached the Arctic Circle before heading south again to the west-coat ferries. On that trip, the Spouse bought a four-pack of new underwear. One pair for each week. When it came time to change, he threw the used pair into the campfire. I didn't ask him about his hygiene on this trip; better not to.
Also on the Alaska trip (AKA the Iron Butt Tour), the three friends felt the need for a bath right around the B.C./Yukon border. They found a remote lake in the woods. "Should we take off all our clothes?" asked Joe, who is very modest. "Of course we should. We're in the middle of nowhere!' said the Spouse.
So, the three undressed, jumped in the lake and started scrubbing. Rrrn, rrrn, up pulled an RV. An entire family spilled out, chattering in some Scandinavian language. They looked and pointed at the men in the water, took photographs of them, and got in their van and left.
This is the highway approaching the Bighorn Mountains. A day later, the Spouse met Joe in Sturgis, South Dakota. (Don't worry; the rally's not until August.) They could've met in Rapid City, but the Spouse wanted to make Joe travel that many miles farther than he.
According to the Spouse, Joe took a photo of him as they rode alongside one another. He said it could be titled, "This is the man you married?"
