Day Seven: Sunday, Aug. 19, 2001
Another bright and sunny morning! While I am eager to get on with the riding today, I seem to have mixed feelings. It is so much fun to explore the country side with like minded enthusiasts and I hate to see the weekend draw to a close. In a perfect world we'd all be able to ride roads like these together everyday. Heck, I'd be happy if I could even ride them alone! But I have to be getting back to Texas. Richard, Lisa, Jim and David are heading back to Chattanooga where they left their trailer a few days back. This time, it will be just John Morin and myself to make the butt burner run home.
While loading my GIVI luggage on the bike, I spot John wandering around the parking lot saying goodbye to folks and checking out some of the bikes. I notice Jim has the SV650 loaded to the hilt. John and I head over to the restaraunt to get breakfast before heading out for the day. Several other folks from our group are already having breakfast. I'm not usually a breakfast eater so I just get something light thinking we'll stop for lunch later. After eating, we head to the parking lot, check out and say our final goodbyes, then it is back onto the Parkway one more glorious time!
It is another cool and beautiful morning. We leave the Inn around 9:00am. John wants to head over to Deal's Gap. He has never been there and is itching to give it a run. I had planned on leaving by way of the Cherohala Skyway anyway, so I figure why not? It is not that far out of the way. Or is it?
John lets me take point and set the pace since I am carrying the heavy load. I just can't get enough of this place, the woods right up to the road, the flowers along the shoulder, the first hints of the approaching fall season, and the curves! It takes us about forty minutes or so to reach the exit for US 74, the one we had tried to take yesterday and missed. We get off and get on the main highway.
You might be inclined to think that riding a major highway is pretty dull, and for the most part, you'd be right ninety percent of the time. However, the Smokie Mountain Expressway is actually a nice ride. It is four lanes and smooth. It has nice elevation changes and big monster sweepers. It is very hard to keep the bikes down to legal speeds. The road just sucks me in and before I know it I am gliding around the curves like a glider slipping on the currents of the afternoon winds among the clouds. Accordingly, the miles glide by as well.
Shortly we reach the the turn off for Hwy 28 South to Franklin. The urge to make that run again is strong, just a quick down and back... it wouldn't take long... But feeling the pull of the miles yet to be conquered today, I resist the urge and continue to the North turn off of Hwy 28 that leads to Deal's Gap.
Immediately after making the turn for Hwy 28, we hit construction. Traffic is not heavy but we still keep the speed down. I don't want any tickets or other unpleasant surprises. I can't help but think that the construction is taking a nice smooth twisty road and widening it into a graded and straightened auto zone, eewww! What a waste! But soon enough we break on through to the other side, a cozy little winding road nestled in the shade of the trees hanging over both shoulders. For the most part the pavement is pretty good with only the ocassional bumps and patches. Great stuff.
Soon we pass Fontana Village, a remote but lovely little mountain resort, and then we buzz right back into the woods. As we reach the bottom of the valley, 28 crosses a bridge and then begins to run along the shores of the Little Tennessee River. There is little if any elevation change here, but that's okay because the road is twisty enough to keep me occupied with just turning the bike and not having to work out the gravity thing at the same time. I'm feeling really good and the bike seems to be running on rails. Having to go home really sucks!
After a few more miles, 28 turns away from the river and starts climbing up the side of the mountains. Running downhill is fun, but I think I prefer the uphill runs more. I just like the way the bike handles on throttle inputs only, without having to brake as much to bleed off speed. Ocassionally I steal quick glances in the mirror to make sure John is still with me, a habit I formed early in my group riding experiences that has paid off big in the past. As we round one last turn, we pop out of the woods and see the huge crowd of bikes that has already gathered at the Crossroads of Time parking lot.
The plan is for John to get a new set of tires, hopefully for the same kind of bargain I got here a few days ago. I track down Mike, one of the guys working here this summer and let him know what we are trying to do. He can't get on it right away so John decides to go ahead and make his run through the Gap and then have the new tires put on before we leave. Since I dislike riding the Gap on weekends when it is so infested with squids, I beg off and hang out in the parking lot checking out the bikes and shooting the breeze with anyone that gets near me. I watch as John zooms up the main straight to the first turn and then disappears into the woods. I say a quick prayer asking that he make a fun and safe run. Mike had just told me that this weekend has been bad for wrecks. Folks were just showing up, dropping off their luggage in their rooms and then running out and trashing their bikes. He even ran his 2001 Red Suzuki SV650S off the road but fortunately was unhurt, same for the bike.
While hanging out in the parking lot, I spot another red VFR (big surprise there). As I am checking it over the owner returns and I strike up a conversation. It turns out that we are familiar with each other via the VFR mailing list. It is cool to put a name with a face. Joe Cargal is one of the people fortunate enough to live in Asheville, North Carolina and is able to ride all of these wonderful roads on a fairly regular basis. I try to hide my overflowing envy but I think he sees through me. We chat a little longer and then before I know it, John comes zooming back into the parking lot, grinning like a full blown Chesshire cat.
Concerned that something might be wrong as he has returned so soon, I check with him to be sure everything is okay. Apparently, having decided that he'd be getting new tires anyway, he might as well shag the old ones real good. Let's just say I'm glad I was not running with him. His rear tire is shot. A quick glance at the center of the rear tire shows that there is very little rubber covering the underlying metal bands. So we go find Mike and head up to the shop to swap tires.
Mike gets the bike up on the stands and starts to look at removing the tires. We have the new ones sitting off to one side. Mike gets a funny perplexed look on his face. It seems that to remove the rear tire, a very large, 43 mm, socket wrench is needed. He has nothing that large in his extensive set of tools. This is Sunday morning so there aren't go to be any dealers open until Tuesday. We are trying to be home by late Monday evening, argghh. John figures he can nurse the tire home, and decides to go ahead and try to replace the front tire. There's that funny look again! The front requires a 19 mm hex head wrench to remove the axle! Good Lord, those wacky Brits have made this an annoying task! It seems that John is to have no new tires at all, not so good.
With little choice, we decide to set out for home. I stop in and say another good bye to Duncan and Francois before heading South on US 129 to Robbinsville. It is pushing noon and we have hardly made any headway on the trip toward home. This is going to be a long day in the saddle.
I am thinking that we'll stop for a quick lunch in Robbinsville before we start knocking down some serious miles. I had a skimpy breakfast so I am starting to get a bit hungry. So we make quick work of the run down the mountain to Robbinsville. I head for the Dungeon, the place I ate with the guys from the Gap a few nights ago, but it is closed, doh! Then I remember the Black Knight Cafe, another local joint with good burgers and such, closed! It seems it is going to be Wendy's. We pull into the lot and notice that there are a lot of Harleys parked here... Hmmm. I notice the lot is also freshly black topped and seems soft. Not being able to find anything to put under the kickstand, I decide to at least have the bike sitting level and I lift if up onto the centerstand. That way if It sinks, hopefully it will sink the same amount on both sides and not tip over.
When we get inside there are tassles everywhere, and a long line. While waiting to order, I start yakking with few of the Harley dudes. They are locals and are quite chatty. Apparently, their local riding club is getting set for a run across the Cherohola Skyway! We are going to have to eat fast and get moving to keep from getting stuck behind that freight train of slow moving bikes. We get our food, chow down and head for the parking lot.
Several of the Harley riders are already drifting out to their bikes and firing them up, creating quite a ruckus. My bike has sank into the soft pavement about an inch. This makes it virtually impossible for me to leverage it off the centerstand. Seeing my predicament, one of the guys we had been chatting with gave me a nice shove while I was on the bike so I could get underway. I give him a big thanks and we are on our way. Oddly enough, once again I feel a bit giddy about the prospect of running the Skyway again in pretty weather.
The first few miles of Hwy 143 are fun but not really the kind of road on which I like to ride hard and fast. There are too many blind curves and the surface is not always predictable. But it is still neat because I really get the feeling of being deep in the woods with the rest of the world blocked out by the thickness of the surrounding woods. And then we round a corner and the road is transformed.
The lanes become wide and the shoulder paved. Potholes are a figment of the imagination and the pavement calls to me. It demands my undivided attention. I snug up to the gas tank and lean forward slightly letting my arms go loose. Carrying all the weight of the GIVI requires that I focus more effort on being smooth with all my control inputs so that I don't upset the chassis. I glance rearward in the mirror after every few turns to makes sure John is still stuck too me. He is. Then I slip into the zone and the miles just start melting away in a blur, the sound of my engine screaming from 2000 rpm to its' 11500rpm redline in mere heartbeats. The VFR lives for this kind of treatment.
As I set up for one of the many tight lefthanders, I spot some helmeted heads over a small hill at one of the scenic overlooks. As I lean the bike into the corner I glance over and spot several late model VFRs in the parking lot. I manage a quick wave as I am cranked over trying not to drag the side bags. Unfortunately, there is no time to stop because of our delay at the Gap trying to get John a set of tires. I look up the road for the next curve and make a mental not to zip off an email to Joe Cargal to find out if that was him and his riding buddies.
We pass many other motorcycles, many of which are VFRs. It is such a beautiful day I can't believe this road is not swamped with sportbikes. Miraculously there are very few cars. One of the best things about this road is that it is closed to commercial traffic. Too bad there aren't more roads like it, hehe. Soon we reach the part of the Skyway were we start to come down off the ridge and run down into the valley below. As much as I like the run on the ridge, with its' awesome panoramic views, the run down into the valley is really special. The pavement is smooth blacktop and the curves are banked perfectly with great visibility. It gives me the feeling of swooping down out of the sky like a hawk in search of its prey. I forget to even look at the speedometer and just let the bike run its pace. MMMmmmm.... Chicken soup for the soul!
When John and I finally get to the bottom, we pull over at a rest stop next to the river. This is the same place I stopped last year after the fantastic ride with Dave Viosca. It is getting a bit warm. I decide to take off my boots and soak my feet in the water for a few minutes. It is freezing but amazingly refreshing! As I am climbing back up to the parking area, a Harley pulls in next to us for a break. We had passed him quite a ways back. The couple is enjoying a wonderful day out on the bike. It makes me wish Beth were here to enjoy this with us. I put my boots back on and we head out. Most of the really fun stuff us over and we have got to put some serious miles behind us today if we are to even have a chance of getting home on schedule.
We reach Hwy 68 and turn south. The first few miles are big wide open sweepers and four lanes. But then it drops down to two lanes and tightens up some. I settle in for a nice quick seven tenths pace. There are enough side roads and driveways to provide lots of nasty mid corner surprises. But this is definitely a great road to run if you ever get in the area. Last year Dave Viosca and I turn north and went on into Tennessee on the way home and it was pretty good as well. But it had more traffic than the southern section.
After an hour or so, we reach Copperhill at the Tennessee and Georgia border. There we head south on Hwy 5 and make for US 76. There is a lot of development in this area and thus more traffic. US 76 is just another relaxing winding four lane highway where we can make some time. The back roads are great fun but they don't get us anywhere in a hurry. When we reach Ellijay, we stop for a break and some gas. It is a pretty toasty afternoon and I spend a few minutes under the air conditioning vent in the store. Then we head west to ride Hwy 52 to Chatsworth.
It is getting late in the afternoon and it seems like we still have a long long way to go before we stop for the night. I think we both realize that we really got started this morning quite a bit later than we had planned and are feeling a bit anxious about it. At least we'll be doing this stretch of road in good light. Everything after this should be fairly sedate and riding it in the dark won't be much of a loss.
After sitting in traffic for a few minutes working up a good sweat, we begin the climb up 52 into the mountains. It takes us a few miles to get clear of most of the traffic and to reach the really fun section of the road. Then it is just like a mini flash back to the Cherohala Skyway. No commerical traffic and perfect pavement. Realizing that this is going to be the last really fun stretch of road for the rest of the trip, I open it up a bit and have some fun. I do manage to freak my self a bit on one curve because I fixate on the yellow line. It seems That no matter how hard I try to will myself to look up the road through the curve, my eyes won't release one of the stupid little center line reflectors. Finally, I let it go and lean the bike thru the curve and continue on with no problems. One more good reason to ride without letting it all hang out, there's room to goof a bit before you get into really serious trouble. However, as we roar out of the turn, I notice folks on the side of the road quickly turning to watch us leave to continue buzzing down the mountain side. Another excellent ride!
We reach Chatsworth and have to stop to confer about directions. A quick check of the map and the GPS and we are quickly on our way again, heading out of town on 52 for a few miles looking for 225 south. We reach the turn and I start thinking that this looks quite familiar. Andray and I had passed through here last week when we got lost. Must be something about this area that disorients me, hehe. The run down 225 is quick and uneventful. There are some ominous looking clouds floating about on the horizon. I'm thinking that I have had enough rain for one trip and don't really like the looks of this.
We reach Calhoun and pick up Hwy 156 west. This skirts along the southern edge of some kind of wildlife management area or National Park. So it is pretty. But because there are so many homes in the area, we encounter a bit of traffic. We hit US 47 in Armuchee a few miles north of Rome, Georgia, not Italy. We skirt around the edge of Rome on the loop and pick up Hwy 20 for the run to the Alabama border. It is around 5:00pm. I'm already getting a bit tired and bored. The thought of leaving behind all of the fantastic roads of Georgia, Tennessee and North Carolina has zapped my motivation to keep riding. It is hard to get excited about riding across the country to get back to basically straight and flat roads. Oh well.
At the border, the road becomes Hwy 9 and runs through Cedar Bluff, eventually hitting US 411 in Centre. The ride across the lake south of Cedar Bluff is nice and relaxing. The road is straight, allowing me to take in the beautiful evening with the low sun glimmering on the surface of the lake. The clouds are turning a fiery orange and red, the shadows of the trees stretching across the road. We reach US 441 and turn west for Leesburg. To the southwest, I spot a few thunder showers. I am hoping that we can skirt around the edges and miss them.
We stop again in Leesburg to confer about our route. As it is getting late in the day, we are shifting our focus away from fun back roads to more direct main roads. We check the map and decide to head west on 68 to 168. I swear we don't make it more than a few miles out of town before it starts to sprinkle. Remembering how miserable it was riding all day last Monday while soaked, I was not in the mood to do a repeat experience. So I start looking for a safe place to pull over and get out the rain gear.
We've all been at that place in life where we realize that it is too late to do something and still have it do any good, but we are so determined that we are going to do it anyway that we ignore this blatant fact and keep going. Well, that is how it is going with my rain gear. John is sitting on his bike watching me, giggling under his helmet as I try to dig out the rain jacket and gloves. It is pouring now and I am already soaked again. But undaunted I put all the gear on and we continue on our merry way. A few miles more and the clouds break and the rain stops. Arrgghhh!
The sun has all but disappeared from the sky now. The rain has simply provided the perfect climate for slick roads and lots of fog. We are planning to head southwest on Hwy 168 but decide to stick to the main road since it is getting so nasty. It may be a bit farther but it should also be safer. We pick up Hwy 75 and run Southwest until we hit US 278 and run West until we reach the turn off for Hwy 91 South.
Hwy 91 is pretty much a back road. We get behind some local guy in a truck that is apparently quite familiar with the road. Depsite the conditions, he is crusing. So we let him go ahead. The bugs are terrible and I am having a hard time just seeing the road. We slow the pace accordingly and soldier forward. Eventually we reach I-65 somwhere North of Birmingham. I spot a nice gas station and decide it is time to pull in, gas up, stretch, eat and clean the face shields.
I have been fighting a head cold since Thursday and it has caught up to me. My ears have not cleared since coming down out of the mountains earlier in the day and I find my self talking a bit loud and asking everyone to repeat themselves. They must think I am a crazy old man trapped in a young guy's body. In the back of the store is a small pizzaria selling big slimy cheesy hunks of pizza. The smell is too much for me and I have to have some. I know I'll be paying for it later on the bike, but it just smells so good! We rest a while and stuff ourselves. Before I even get up from the table I am already getting heartburn. Acckk!
We decide that we have had enough of the back roads and bugs. So our new plan is to head South on I-65 to Birmingham and then take I-20 East to Jackson, Mississippi, where we will stop for the night. Ideally we should get there about 10:30 or 11:00pm. So we get on the freeway and go into cruise mode, making it to Birmingham in no time at all. I am starting to get my second wind and the cold medicine I took with the pizza is kicking in so I can breathe again. This was a great idea... NOT!!!
As soon as we start to head out of Birmingham on I-20, the traffic starts to get real heavy. This is odd because it is nearly 9:00pm on a Sunday night. Then the traffic comes to a complete stop! As far as we can see there are brake lights in front of us. I normally don't skirt around traffic when I am on the bike, but tonight I just can't take it. We get over on the right shoulder and start working our way to the front of the line. It is a long line. Finally we reach the front to find the freeway completely closed because of an accident. No one is allowed through. Not even us on our little bikes. Doh!
We park the bikes and shut them down. It appears we are going to be here for some time. Many of the other motorist have gotten out of their cars and are hanging out chatting with other onlookers. It seems that some nutcases stole a car, drove off drunk, and then proceeded to run an innocent elderly gentleman off the road, causing his truck to flip several times before coming to rest about 50 yards from the road. Then these fine young citizens took off on foot, fleeing the scene. So now we have a crime scene investigation. No one gets through until the detectives have taken all their pictures and made all of their observations. After several hours of sitting, they finally let us through and we are the first ones by, getting a huge break in the traffic.
It is now pushing 11:00pm. The first few miles after the accident we are taking it pretty slow because there are patrolmen everywhere waiting for the frustrated motorists to go ripping by at high speeds. Ten or fifteen miles later, we hook up with some guy in a nice looking Jaguar sports coupe and make some real good time. He's in a hurry and we just hang back about a mile or so and tail him.
While we were stopped, we had decided to forgoe trying to reach Jackson and instead opted for Meridian. It is just across the border and within a few hours. Hopefully we can make it there by shortly after midnight. Even following the jag, we still get in closer to 1:00am. We stop to gas up the bikes and the Jaguar pulls in next to us. This guy is from Atlanta and is heading to Jackson. He calls us the "Nightriders" and kids us about tailing him. Then we grab a bite to eat at the local Waffle House, get a hotel across the street and crash for the night. We have to get up around 7:30am and it is already nearly 2:00am. Tomorrow is going to suck! Sleep comes quick after a nice hot shower. What a day.