I turned off the street and onto the gravel, the boxcars loomed up on my life and I saw America before me. A fella was comin up ahead, walking my way. Never know who is out on these sideways, but he gave me a big thumbs up as I rode by, just a fella making his way like me. The road along here had been washed out by the summer's storms that blew through these parts, I moved over the ruts with a da-dut-da-dut-da-dut and a rumble through my seat, so I stood for the way and kept my eyes on the road. I stopped again to pick up some signposts for tomorrow along the way of trashed possessions, some folks got more than they can do with, and when they leave off care, it all ends up on the side of the road somewhere like this. The train moves along my side now and I keep an eye out for the man keeping an eye out for us. Nothing was happening on this ride, but it might all happen tomorrow, who knows really. I moved back out onto the road and was passed so fast by some big trucks that my hair blew under my helmet, nobody noticed, noone does except for those riding. We're like an outskirt of the transportation world, along side all the cars, but outside thier minds. It was a warm sunny october day, good for pedalling, I would be back on my way soon.
So I'm not a Kerouac expert or anything, but anytime I ride crosstown for a meeting and I take this railroad service road, he pops into my mind with all the possibilities of jumping the boxcars man. I was going to a meeting for the stream sign program I am administering, so I got double miles in today than I normally would, which is good because I gotta drive tomorrow as I need the car for some work errands farther out than I can bike on this short day to come, and I gotta transport alot of stuff for our annual meeting event. But I at least got the org's car, so I'm still not using mine.