Ed, Travel, etc.
I finally got around to writing up my trip report from my trip last weekend.
I had a blast, but I've been running on overdrive ever since I returned.
Ed Drannbauer came into Gainesville yesterday. He stayed at our place and
looked for a job today.
Posted at: 02:03 on 17/04/2003
[ /diary ]
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North Carolina, Tennessee, and Georgia
April 11th
After farting around getting everything
packed on the bike, I was finally ready to leave the house by 8am. I
really wasn't sure just where the heck I was going, but I knew it was some
place out of dodge. My plan was either TWO
in Suches, or this BMW shindig in Cherokee, NC.
I stopped real quick for breakfast at the Mickey Dicks, and by 8:30 was ready
to really hit the road. Crap, I had forgotten to charge the
chatterbox, which meant
no music for me...
I rode on up I-75 to Valdosta, where I stopped for gas at the BP off exit
12. While there I met a fairly friendly guy named George, who I think was
supposed to be taking paxil or lithium but had forgotten to take his pills
for quite sometime.. He chatted me up for a good 15 minutes before I could
finally break free.
Why is it that whenever I am on the road camping by motorcycle everyone wants
to chat with me???
About 15 miles after the BP I hit a really bad traffic jam. It took us almost
40 minutes to go a lousey 3 miles because I-75 was turned into a one-lane road
at MM29. Between 10am and 11:15am I only managed to clock in 40 hours -- ouch!
It finally cleared up, and I headed north-bound. At 12:30 I stopped in
Macon (exit 9 on I-475) for lunch and gas. I stopped and had one of
the worlds greatest hamburgers, and
boy was it yummy. While at the restaurant I met a guy who wanted to talk about
my K1200RS. He apparently wanted a K1200LT, and wanted to chat about traveling
and camping by motorcycle...
When I got to Macon I had decided to go to Cherokee, so I called Goddard
to ask him which hotel the thing was at. He told me, and I continued to make
my way north.
I took the I-675 bypass up to I-285 North/East, then proceeded up I-285 to
I-85 East, then proceeded up I-85 to I-985. Pretty soon I was in Gainesville,
but I was still 400 miles from home. I continued on I-985 until it turned into
GA-365, then took that into 441. From there, I just stayed on 441 heading
north.
Just before 4pm I got into Clayton. By this point I was feeling pretty road
weary, probably due to dehydration -- I had only stopped twice on the way up
and was undoubtably thirsty. I filled up the gas tank and drank some water.
I also thought about stopping at the package store for some scotch, but figured
there'd be plenty of opportunities in Cherokee...
During the rest of the trip, it was pretty overcast,
but there were periodic breaks in the clouds which made everything look pretty.
I continued on into Cherokee, and promptly drove past the best western. I
didn't realize my mistake until I was about 5 miles away -- whoops. I turned
back, and found the best western. It turned out to be the same one with the
rude wait staff that I had had breakfast at last year when I camped in the
area, oh well.
I hung out front and met Bruce Smith and Gene Smith, who were not related.
Gene and I had dinner around 7:30. Gene told me that it was snowing on 441
southbound from Gatlinburg and that the entrance to the Blue Ridge Parkway was
closed due to snow. It was pretty cold, but I figured there should be some
decent riding anyway..
After dinner I went back to my room. The was another
blue K1200RS parked next to me. Only this one had what looked like a keg
strapped to the back. I met the owner, and he told me that it was an extra
3gal. fuel cell.
I finally went to bed around 10pm. I was pretty pooped, and fell soundly
asleep. Total mileage for the day, 486
April 12th
I had breakfast with Tim from Indianapolis and some guy from Tampa. Tim is
on the board for the Indianapolis Jazz
Festival, and he had some interesting stories. The guy from Tampa was a
retired teacher.
After breakfast there was a "group meeting" at 8am to discuss that days events.
There was a big deal about an accident that happened the day before, and the
event coordinator wanted to make sure there would be no other accidents. I
wound up getting together with Gene & Bruce Smith, and Dave from New Orleans
for our ride.
We left at 9am, and headed out on the planned course in reverse. The summary
is that we took 74 to 28 north, took 28 north to Fontana Village, then on up
to the Dragon. We rode the dragon north bound, and stopped at the overlook.
At the overlook we met a guy who had been on the road for over a year. We
then took the first left past Tallassee on 129, which was TN 72 -- note the
Tallassee General Store is now closed, and Geoff's
ex-girlfriend was nowhere to be found..
We then took 72 to 411, then 411 to 380 into Tellico Plains. This was the same
route Geoff, Lee, and I took back in 2001. After a nice refreshing meal of
bean soup, we took the Cheriholla Skyway back into Robbinsville, NC. Then
we headed south on 129 until we got to 74. Then north on 74 until we hit the
Nantahalla River Road, which we followed until it turned into Wayah Bald Road.
By far Wayah Bald Road was the most technical road we had been on for the
entire day, but that's probably because of the twisty turns interspersed with
gravel all over the road. We stayed on Wayah Bald until it intersected into
64, then took 64 into 28. We took 28 north, which was one hell of a fun road,
until we intersected with 74. From there we headed back into Cherokee.
The farmers in Tennessee and North Carolina had been plowing their fields with
the intent of planting this seasons tobacco crops. A rich pungent scent lofted
in the air from the rich earthy loam whenever we passed one of the farms. It
really was an amazing olfactory sensation.
We stopped for beer in Bryson city; it turns out Cherokee is a dry town, so
we needed to stock up.
The order for most of the riding was Gene led, which was the best thing. He
has over 30 years of riding experience, and has been visiting the NC area for
close to 25 years. Watching Gene ride his R1150RT was like watching Yo-Yo
Ma play a Stradivarius -- he was a master practicing his craft. Not a single
one of us could keep up with him, even though he was riding a pretty porky
touring bike. It just prooves the point that it's not the bike that counts,
but the nut loose behind the handle bars.
After the ride, there was a group dinner, which was pretty good. 63 people
were at the event, which I guess is a pretty good turn out. I met some guys
from Jacksonville, whom I thought I might ride home with (more on that
later).
I finally hit the hay around 11pm. The total mileage for Saturday was only
251 miles.
April 13th
I had originally planned on leaving Cherokee by 9am. My thinking was that
I should be able to be back home by 5pm, and I wouldn't have to drive like
a lunatic to get there.
Andrew and David, the two guys from Jacksonville I had met before, had
expressed similar interests in making a 9am kickoff. I woke up at ~7am, and
started packing up the bike. While doing that I ran into David who told me
they were going to leave earlier than 9.
I asked if they planned on at least having breakfast, and he said that he
wanted to get back to Jacksonville early, and that he'd probably just grab
something at Hardees. I asked if he'd mind doing a detour on the way back
to go ride War Woman Road, and he insisted they were in a hurry.
About 30 minutes later I ran into Andrew, and he was singing a different
tune. He said that he wanted to have breakfast with his dad in the hotel,
but that he was still on for a 9am kickoff.
I went ahead and hit breakfast in the restaurant at the hotel. I had
breakfast with this nice guy from Chattanooga, and we chatted for a bit,
but I was done by 8:30am. Because Andrew and David couldn't get their stories
straight, I just decided to bail on my own and do my own thing. I was on the
road by 8:45am.
On the way out of Cherokee I saw a temperature sign -- 41F, brr, pretty cold
for doing 60+ miles per hour. Oh well, I guess that's why the good lord
blessed us with heated grips.
I headed south on 441, and just started making my way home. I stopped and
looked at the Telila
Gorge in Georgia, which was pretty. While there I ran into a harley rider
and his wife who were headed up to Cherokee to ride the BRP.
I told him about the BRP being closed due to snow, but gave him some alternate
route plans to think about.. He thanked me, and we bid each other a good ride.
That's one thing I enjoy about riding -- every other rider I've ever met has
always been friendly. Please note, I'm differentiating between "rider" and
"biker". I've met several bikers that don't ride, and aren't particularly
friendly; you can usually recognize them by which bars they hang out in, or
their pride in telling you how many rear wheel horse power their bike puts out.
Just before I hit Milledgeville, I was nearly in an accident. A turkey decided
he wanted to cross the road, and he flew right in front of me. When he
realized he might be killed, he turned around and flapped his wings as hard
as he could back to the side of the road. Although I was startled by the
20lbs avian flying in front of me, I was equally amused by the sight of the
portly bird frantically flapping with all of it's might in the hope that it
wouldn't become road splatter. Needless to say, I'm glad he made it.
I continued south, until I hit Douglass. I stopped for a quick snack and gas,
then headed south again. By this time it had warmed up substantially, and I
was *REALLY* glad I had my summer gloves that I could switch to.
By the time I got down towards the southern tip of Georgia, I was feeling
really bad. The heat was taking it's toll, and I was not in good shape.
Although I knew better, I had only stopped for water twice on the trip down
and I was now paying the price. I found it difficult to concentrate on the
road, and just difficult to concentrate in general.
I remember seeing a sign for "Willie Johnson Road" and thinking to myself
that they couldn't spell Willie Nelson's name properly, and that with all
of his tax problems that was nice they named a street after him. Yup, I knew
I was in trouble.
The last town in Georgia on 441 is the bustling metropolis of Fargo. Lake
City is 34 miles south of Fargo, and I probably would have tried to push on,
but a train was going through town and 441 was closed. Sometimes providence
really does show you your foibles, or at least looks out for you -- I stopped
at the BP and bought a couple litres of water in an effort to recuperate enough
to finish the ride home..
One litre went straight into my belly. Another litre was split between my head
and my belly. The entire time I just sat on a bench relaxing.. Within 20
minutes the replenishing liquid had its' desired effect and I was feeling like
a human being again. I hopped on the bike and proceeded home.
I finally got home around 4:30pm. The total distance I had travelled on Sunday
was 462 miles, all on back roads. 441 is still my favorite way to travel to
North Georgia because you get gentle sweeper roads, very little traffic,
and interesting scenery.
Posted at: 02:02 on 17/04/2003
[ /travel ]
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