I slept for a solid six hours last night. I feel rested for the first time in four days. We camped on Foss Lake, where this morning I rolled out my travel yoga mat and did a 30-minute flow next to its tranquil waters. Rejuvenated and rested, I mounted my motorcycle and followed Jerod out of the park. To our right, we saw the first signs of what the day’s dirt held for us: a freshly plowed field the color of red velvet cake. It looked delicious.

We stopped for breakfast burritos at a Phillips 66 gas station in Weatherford, Oklahoma, got our kicks and a few miles on old Route 66, and found our first dirt roads for the day. As Jerod’s rear tire transitioned from pavement to gravel, it kicked up tiny swirling dust devils. We crossed the Canadian River and rode into Guthrie where we stopped at Hoboken Coffee for drip brew and Wi-Fi. I broke away for a bit to explore Guthrie’s bustling downtown square and sauntered into A Novel Idea, a bookstore with two free ranging basset hounds, Miss Lizzie and Mr. Darcy. I’m missing my wife and our hound dogs something awful. I dropped to the ground for some surrogate hound love.

We proceeded north out of Guthrie and onto the finest red dirt roads Logan County offers. Our tires hushed as we floated across a velvet-smooth, crimson-colored road. Puffs of red clouds emitted from Jerod’s rear tire like tiny storms on Mars.

It was red dirt, concrete over the Cimarron River, and back to red dirt. We crossed Interstate 35 in the exact same manner utilizing a backroad concrete overpass.

We picked our first double track road of the trip heading towards Stillwater, two red strips of earth with a green center of foliage. Jerod and I took our prospective sides of the road as it curved up, down, and through an arched canopy of trees. Stillwater appeared on the horizon. We rode past patinaed brick downtown buildings filled with quaint shops and busy restaurants.

We arrived at the shores of Lake McMurtry, set up camp, and watched the sun paint the horizon and waters a brilliant orange.