June 2016.
So with my trip to the northeastern corner of the country in my history book it was time to turn my attention/focus towards the trip to Corpus Christi, TX and back for the next and 2nd adventure of the year.
Prior to date I had never embarked on 2 major tours in the space of 1 year/1 riding season so my level of excitement and anxiety was high.
Although I did not have an excessive amount of time to myself, I had set a very ambitious goal for this trip. It was an opportunity for me to cover a great amount of distance with a lot of interesting things, places and people to see along the way, not to mention a few great motorcycling roads to ride as well.
Cleveland to Corpus Christi, as the crow flies, is 1600 miles (2560 km) and that was to be just for starters.
So come along with me as I embark on this journey (tear my way through), diagonally from 1 corner of the country to the other, through major urbanization, to and along the southern coast, through the southern states, up into the Appalachians and back into the heart of the midwest - experiencing some of the most heavily plied, loneliest, highest, lowest, least attractive, loveliest and scenic roads and areas of the country.
The Honda was pretty much ready for the trip.
Despite that, I gave her a good look over to make sure that all was well - and so she was. She would not need an oil change till I had arrived in Corpus Christi, so I would take care of that while there, before the return leg of my journey.
All I needed from this point further was to “load up” and get on the road.

23rd July, 2016.
Day 1.
So if you’ve “hung” with me by reading my journals to this point, you will be gaining familiarity in the usual preparation and methods I employ on each trip, especially knowing that on every 1st day of a trip, the aim is to get as far away from home base as possible before the end of the riding day.
It was a relatively warm 77’F (25’C), muggy morning when I set out at 6:30 a.m.
A little later than I had actually planned to.
I spent the night before packing my gear and did not get to bed till 3:14 in the morning and waking at 5:39 a.m. So it was a no-brainer that I was tired. I literally had to “push” myself out of the house to begin the journey.
It promised to be a lovely clear morning. It was just after daybreak and looking out of the kitchen window as I had coffee, Lake Erie was unusually calm.
Lake Erie, the shallowest of The Great Lakes, has an average mean depth of 50’ (15m) and when the wind picks up, is susceptible to changes in water movement and turbulence making it a very treacherous body of water.
Living right by the lake, I have witnessed many an occasion when its conditions have gone from serenely calm to ocean-like in a relatively short period of time. Conditions with waves several feet/meters high that can accommodate any surf boarder.
So at times like this when the surface of the lake is almost like a sheet of glass, it cannot go unnoticed. Times like this are few and far apart.
Insert a photo of Lake Erie here.
Despite having had only 2 hours of sleep, I felt okay and very excited.
I always do when I go on tour. And as I began the journey, I was additionally calm and cautious as I looked forward to a day that was forecast to be hot and anticipated to be long!
Water, water. I could not pack enough water. I knew my riding stamina would depend on it.
My outlet from the lake area was OH 83 which I stayed on till it intersected with Interstate 71.
Turning south, I took advantage of the Interstate, pointing the ST in the direction of Cincinnati and “nailed it”, arriving there in good time around midday, only to get snarled in a traffic jam.
An accident somewhere ahead was responsible for this.
So stuck in this “bumper-to-bumper” traffic I took a few seconds to check my “vitals” being reported from the instrument gauge panel of the ST.
I was very low on fuel, which I already knew because my blinking, reserve fuel light had come on several miles ahead of my arrival in Cincinnati.
The plan at that time was to exit the highway system, take a bread off the road and fuel up before the afternoon-leg of the journey.
My next available exit was only in 2 miles (3.2 km) but ……… I was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
We barely crawled along.
I was not sure I would have enough fuel to make it off the highway at this rate.
The stop-and-go conditions were and are an internal combustion engines’ adversary when it comes to fuel consumption/efficiency.
It was hot.
The cooling fan on the ST kicked on and efficiently did its job of maintaining the correct engine coolant operating temperature. But no sooner was this attained and it shut off, it was not long again when its services were required!
The fuel situation had me concerned.
I did not see how I would be able to push this massive 740 lb. (336 kg) machine, with additional 170 lb. (77 kg) of luggage off the highway and the rest of the way to a gas station, if I were to run out of gas right here!
I crossed the index and middle fingers on my right hand whilst still keeping a hold of the throttle and hoped for the best outcome.
Finally arriving at the exit off the highway, I was relieved to see the sign for a fuel station just beyond the overpass of the highway.
I headed directly there!
It had taken me 35 minutes to travel the 2 miles (3.2km) to get to fuel.
I bought an additional 6-pack of water and loaded it up with the gear, thereby increasing my “stash” of water to a little more than an imperial gallon.
As hot was it was and as hotter as it was forecast to get, I was taking no chances. I would need to rehydrate myself as often as I could.
I planned to do so every hour.
As I worked my way back onto the highway after hydrating the ST and myself - I had 1 pint (500 ml) of water The ST took on 7.48 gal (28.5 l) of fuel - which meant that I had less than a tenth of a gallon (0.5 l) of fuel remaining in the tank prior to filling up.
Whew, I think I made it here by the skin of my teeth on this remaining amount of fuel!
I joined the now very slow-moving traffic. Cars were all so close together.
There was literally no “wiggle room”
Don’t these folks have any concept of space and safety margins?
Obviously not!
I was stuck in the fast lane with them.
Up ahead in eyeshot on the shoulder of the road, I made out 2 “Harley” riders, one of whom was on the asphalt on all fours.
I couldn’t help but surmise that he was suffering from heat exhaustion.
I felt that I had to stop and offer some water - at the very least.
With blinker (trafficator) on, I tried to change lanes but the cars around me extended no courtesy to allow me to.
All this time still in gradually-flowing traffic, I was forced to pass by and missed the chance to have been able to stop and assist.
It worried me greatly and weighed on my mind.
I think back to that day and hope that he made out okay from whatever plagued him.
With each minute that went by, the traffic thinned out and picked up pace. Not too long afterward, the flow of vehicles was back to normal highway speeds.
The ambient temperature was climbing. It was getting very hot and I felt the need to stop and cool off.
2 hours later, I found myself in Louisville, KY.
Looking up ahead I made out the golden arches of a McDonald’s establishment and made a beeline for there for a forced lunch break. It was becoming unbearably hot!
As usual, to record details of my trip - I kept my GPS unit on. As I reached for it to remove it from its mount I couldn’t help but notice how hot the unit was.
I don’t remember it ever being this hot in all the time I had used it to date.
For the next 2 hours it malfunctioned, beginning with displaying information “backwards”.
As I motored along it displayed information in reverse. It seemed to be playing back my “tracks” backwards.
This alarmed me ‘cos I had made no inputs for it to behave as such.
As I tried to make sense of this and correct the issue it would not respond.
I now started getting distracted and felt I would be safer trying not to do this on the road.
I anticipated an exit ramp off the highway, one that I could not find in this area.
All of a sudden I felt lost!
I did not know where I was, did not know what direction I was heading and worst of all did not know how the rest of the journey would fare without the benefit of my GPS unit.
Well yes, I’d definitely be able to continue my trip but it would not be completely as planned.
This was shaping out to be a real adventure!
Soon, an exit made itself available and I promptly took the exit ramp and got off the highway to check the GPS.
I cannot tell you where I was. I don’t know. Somewhere in Kentucky on the other side of Louisville.
I pulled into a parking lot which had a tree, no, a large shrub in an attempt to get some shade. The sun was beating down mercilessly!
I looked at the GPS which now would not respond to any inputs whatsoever!
Well, I was stationary and did not have a clear view of the skies above me and I thought that could be blocking my signal acquisition.
I moved on. Back on the highway I was focussed on the GPS unit which still had not locked onto a signal.
I pulled off the highway at my next opportunity.
Again, I searched for a park place with some shade to escape the scorching sun.
I was hot - in more ways than one - not knowing where I was, the sun beating down on me and a malfunctioning GPS unit.
Oh boy, this was a first!
I found a lot with a tree in the back of the property and jumped at the chance to park underneath it and get some shade.
My only option now was to turn off the GPS unit and let it cool down.
I used this time to reach for some water from my luggage and rehydrate myself.
After several minutes passed I fired up the GPS unit again, hoping that it had had sufficient time to cool down, enough to “come back to life” - still no response to my inputs!
Now I really began to get concerned about this!
It seems that the unit had “fried”!
Well okay then, so it was. I had my “paper Atlas” on board so I would have to rely on that for the rest of the trip.
A paper atlas has always been one of the priorities of things to take on a trip in anticipation of a time like this when I would not have use of my GPS for one reason or another.
It is that item I need to have and hope not to have to use. So I knew I could eventually navigate my way during this trip, one way or another.
By now, I had tried everything I could to revive GPS unit.
Had I?
Wait a minute, there was just 1 more thing I had not tried.
Bingo!
I had a straw to cling to.
I took the now-much-cooled-off GPS off its mount and removed the battery. Waited about 10 seconds and re-inserted it.
Booted it up and presto, signal acquisition in a matter of seconds!
Tabbing through my Apps and selections to verify operation, the display had life and displayed right-side up and verified location accuracy.
Yes, you can imagine, a big smile on my face!
I made it lock into my present location, inserted that position into my pre-programmed route for this day and instructed it to resume the journey from this point.
The learning curve for this particular Garmin unit/model had been and still is (to a great extent) very steep. But with persistence and time I have learned some of its features a little at a time, or should I say a trip at a time.
I was ecstatic at being able to perform/instruct this particular feature. So following its directions/instructions, I quickly got back onto the highway and in no time, the GPS unit re-routed me back on track and we resumed the journey.
A couple of hours had gone by already and around 4:30 p.m. I pulled off the highway to seek some shelter from this blistering heat. The temp. gauge on the bike registered 95’F (35’C) in the shade, with no breeze!
This was a good time to call in and let my wife know how my day was going.
Reaching for my phone, my battery level was too low to make a call.
No problem. I reached into my “electronics” kit for my charging cable ……………….. and could not find it! Seems I had not remembered to bring it along! Shucks!
But hey, I was in the parking lot of a convenience store so I sauntered in and purchased one. So that sorted out the issue.
After phone calls I made my way back onto the highway and continued the long arduous journey towards Corpus Christi.
I began to realize that fatigue had played a major role in my preparation and organization for this trip in the days leading up to today.
I was not as mentally sharp as I should have been and ought to have relied on a written and organized list, rather than rely on my growing experience being gained from familiarity.
By 6:30 p.m. I had made it to Bowling Green, KY and decided to call it a traveling day, putting this one into the books.
I checked into America’s Best Value Inn right behind/next door to the National Corvette Museum.
With 41,842 mi showing on my odometer, the ST had carried me 462 mi (740 km) on this hot day.
I was about 200 mi (320 km) shy of my planned distance for the day, I would have a lot of ground to make up for tomorrow. I still had 1200 mi (1920 km) to go. No way I’d be making it to Corpus tomorrow. That would mean another night “on the road”.

24th July, 2016.
Day 2.
I awoke after a good long nights’ sleep.
I was thirsty and reached immediately for a bottle of water!
I had turned in early after a good shower and light dinner of a roast beef sandwich (from the Hardee’s establishment literally next door) and was now feeling refreshed and ready for the days’ ride ahead.
Insert photo off bike in parking lot next to Corvette Museum
As tired and hot as I had been the day before, I was not focussed or motivated enough to make any journal entries.
The breakfast offered was nothing to write home about, the best part of which was Apple Juice that I downed after loading the bike up.
I would try to make it to the Texas state line today. At the very least to Texarkana or beyond.
True to form, as yesterday, the temperatures held high and steady.
More of the same and around a quarter to 8 in the morning I crossed into Tennessee.

The ride through Tennessee presented some very good road surface that made for an exceptionally smooth and relaxing ride as I motored my way along towards Nashville, TN.
As I plied Interstate highway 65 I was eager to put this section of the trip behind me due to the high congestion of the area.
I have come to find out from previous trips that the Louisville to and through the Nashville urban areas are some of the most congested in the nation. If I don’t ever have to pass through here on another journey I know exactly what I’ll not be missing!
Time and miles slowly passed.
I was gradually putting distance between myself and the congestion/high population density of the midwest.
I endured this pace and heat as the bike swallowed up the miles and just past midday, the still unbearable heat of the day and heat of the road, radiating up towards me, forced a stop to shed my riding gear.
I was getting dangerously hot. In an effort to “make up” the miles I felt I lost yesterday, I had stayed in the saddle for going on 4+ hours without stopping for a break.
The air/breeze was just as hot. The sky was cloud-laden which made for very hot and humid conditions.
So stripping down to my shorts and T-shirt only, I strapped my gear onto the bike, drank a bottle of water and motored on- reminiscent of my riding garb in West Africa during my teenage years.
Insert the photo of me having shed riding gear.
I would be crossing into Arkansas pretty soon.
An hour or so later, I forced another stop/break to rehydrate and phoned ahead to my Arkansas-brother Henry.
I wanted to make a point of linking up with him in Benton, AR as I passed through. I had not seen him since our last ride together the previous year.
So I motored along knocking down the miles on the boring but efficient interstate system.
Another hour went by in what seemed to be forever in the blistering heat and in keeping my routine, pulled off the highway again to rehydrate.
I cannot over-emphasize the importance of rehydrating at times like this.
Riding a motorcycle alone, if not even in hot conditions WILL dehydrate you. The constant flow of breeze/wind over you, draws the moisture out of your body. This is manifested in the “cooling effect” you feel when you are moving.
Basically, water is drawn from your body through your sweat pores by the evaporative process of the wind flowing over your skin.
As you tend to lose water, your body salts could resultantly become over-concentrated leading to other possible complications later on in life.
So be sure to drink lots of water and take as many potty breaks as you can.
…………….. and whilst I’m in a lecturing mode, move around as much as yo can when you take a break off the bike. This will aid in blood circulation and help to ward off cramps as well.
Bananas in moderation, are good in this respect.
So regardless of feeling sweaty or not it is imperative that you take-in water (not soda or any other of your favorite beverages) to maintain your body water content and stay healthy.
Something to replenish your electrolytes is also beneficial in between, but not in excess or as a substitute for plain water.
Your vision, balance and function of your body organs will benefit greatly and fatigue is warded off greatly.
As a “Long Rider” I have come to make this a priority on every trip.
At my next break and now much closer to Benton, AR I phoned Henry again, this time for specific directions/address to his place.
He directed me to his new home and asked me to wait for him as he would be arriving much later than I would get there. He had to pick up a riding mower/tractor he needed.
It was still hot and he gave me access to his cool home, out of the heat of the day whilst I waited for him.

It was good to see Henry again and after I helped him unload the mower from the back of his pickup truck, we spent some quality time chatting the heat of the day away.
All too soon as the heat of the day began to subside with the now approaching end of the afternoon, I had to leave, if I was to make it to Texarkana today - although he preferred me to stay and spend the night. At this point in time I would have to journey on if I was to make it to Corpus as scheduled and in time for Wedding preparations/duties.
As I approached Texas I observed much more cloud activity in the air as the skies began to darken.
“Oh-Oh, storm clouds a-gathering”!
Not long after that thought, the clouds let loose and a scattered shower welcomed me right as I arrived at the state line.
Insert the stateliness photo here.
Arriving in Texarkana sometime after dark, I found a motel, checked in for the night, unpacked my luggage, went out to buy some dinner (the chicken was really great), showered and went directly to bed.



25th July, 2016.
Day 3.
I was up very early in the morning, well before sun up and wasted no time loading up the bike. I skipped breakfast. Opting to pick up something along the way instead. Time was of the essence now.
I still had a long way to go.
Texas is a very large state and from experience, having been through here multiple times on previous trips, I knew that from where I was it would take me at least 8 hours to get where I was going.
I logged my ride statistics for the previous day, noting that I had travelled 604 mi (966 km) yesterday.
A good riding day in most respects.
The Honda ST makes easy, comfortable work of really laying down some serious daily mileage with minimal riding fatigue!
And so at 6:00 a.m. sharp I instructed the GPS to follow TX 59 heading towards Corpus.
It was a lovely, relatively cool morning and soon after 7 in the morning, I found myself passing by a lovely meadow.
I just had to stop and take some photos.
1 of the photos I took here ended up being labeled as “my photo of the trip”.
This leg of the journey was otherwise pretty uneventful except for the oppressive heat beginning to build up along the way.
I made sure to stop every hour to rehydrate, drinking a bottle of Gatorade for every 3rd stop with water at each of the other stops, purposely to replenish my electrolytes. This helped a lot and I found that I coped with the heat a little better than I had been able to, over the 2 days prior.
I really needed to make up some time now. I was in Texas.
The highways are long and drawn out and the legal speed limit relatively higher than the congested highways of the seriously overcrowded states of the midwest.
So I “kicked the ST in the ribs”. She picked up her haunches, smiled and did “her thing”!
Carthage - 99 mi (158 km) …… whoosh!
Nacogdoches - 51mi (82 km) ……whoosh!
Lufkin - 20 mi (32 km) ……whoosh!
Diboll - 11 mi (17 km) ……whoosh!
Livingston - 35 mi (56 km) ……whoosh!
The state highway merged into the interstate -Interstate 69.
Houston, 74 mi (118 km) away, was now in striking distance!
And as I approached the city limits, limits of one of the largest cities in this country, I decided to make a quick potty and rehydration break before entering the maze of highways and density of this city.
The last thing I wanted was to have the need to answer the call of nature - whatever form it may take - whilst meshed in the business of navigating through a large city such as this! It might take a little while to cut through.
So I ducked into a station just before “hitting” the outer city loop, fueled up the bike, took a potty-break, purchased some more water that I was now running out of and a bottle of Gatorade.
I found some shade outdoors and spent a few minutes enjoying the light breeze which I could now feel.
My eyes caught what seemed to be a card of some sort on the pavement. Upon closer inspection it was someone’s driving license - still valid. How it got here I do not know, but one thing I was certain of, someone was or would be looking for it desperately.
I went back into the store and promptly returned it to the manager on duty.
At this point, I suited back up into my full riding gear. God forbid if I were to have a mishap, I wanted to have whatever protection I could on my being, and joined the line of cars lined up on the access road.
(I’d rather endure the heat than have road-rash, leaving my skin all over the pavement/asphalt).
Passing through the intersection, the on-ramp to the interstate “sucked” me up. I had no choice now but to find my space on the road at a speed dictated by the general flow of traffic.
I did not mind much because I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I could out-accelerate and/or out-pace any of the vehicles on the road if need be. My only concern was to stay safe.
Flow of traffic was good. Changing lanes when I had to was safe all because of great courtesy extended by all. I was appreciative.
I wormed my way through the spaghetti-like maze and entanglement of the highways downtown Houston, occasionally stealing a glimpse of the city skyline when I could.
The buildings all looming over the city, dwarfing all we vehicles in size, making me really feel minuscule.
The architectural engineering of the city, the massive maze of concrete and asphalt is truly a marvel of human engineering!
The GPS performed flawlessly and routed me through easily and without a hitch.
This is where the strengths of this GPS unit shine.
My Garmin Zumo 590LM, designed specifically for and by motorcyclists input, is my unit of choice, purposefully because of the very specific voice-guidance programming. (Read more about my impressions of it in further detail in another section of this journal).
At the southern part of Houston where the interstate continues its southerly path, cutting across the outer loop of the city, Interstate 69 turned back into TX 59 and from here would be a straight southwesterly run directly into Victoria, TX and beyond - some of my old “stomping/riding” grounds.
So I settled in for the last long haul of this 3 day journey.
From here, it was 208 mi (333 km) to Corpus Christi.
Sugar Land, Rosenberg, Wharton, El Campo, Ganado and into Victoria.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! - All blips on my radar screen!
Refugio, Sinton, Odem ……………. and finally - Corpus Christi!
My home away from home!
The smell of sea breeze and the not-so-healthy refineries (up wind of which I lived in all the years I spent there)!
I pulled into my daughters’ driveway right around 4:30 p.m. local time. It was 98’F (37’C) and with 42,962 mi on “the clock”, I had completed this leg of my journey after having barreled my way through 5 states and a distance of 1583 mi (2532 km) over 3 riding days, it felt good to be indoors in the cool and out of the summer heat. I reached for water!
More importantly it was good to see my children, grandkids and wife (She had flown ahead a month earlier).
It was now family time.
My first order of business was a long-awaited dinner date with my granddaughters Sophs and Penny and a tour through “Soph’s Valley of Toys”!
Insert pertinent photos here.

26th July, 2016 - 1st August, 2016
Days 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10.
These days were spent with the whole network of family and friends preparing for and getting our young couple married.
Family flew in from halfway across the world, arrived from Canada, drove in from Florida as well as Houston.
Preparations were in full swing.
With rehearsal, ceremony, reception and family gathering all planned and executed, we made a 3-day event out of it.
So the High School Sweethearts now married and all family and friends dispersed, my attention turned back to the road.
To me, the journey, the 2nd tour of the year for me was now to begin.
Tomorrow, day 10 of this trip, preparations for my departure would begin in earnest.
The ST required an oil change and a good bath/detail. She had more than earned it!
Right after breakfast, my granddaughter Sophs and I began the work of getting the bike cleaned and soon after that I linked up with my Buddy Charles.
Together, we spent the best part of the morning taking care of this much needed service in his workshop. He was anxious to give me a grand tour of his flourishing Sign-business. I’m so proud of him.
Back in the 90’s, we worked together repairing boats and marine outboard engines - and spent many a morning/day out on the Laguna Madre fishing.
As the day wore on I began to get ready for the return leg of my journey back to north east Ohio.
My plan was to be up at 3:00 a.m. and prepare for a 4:00 a.m. departure.
“Buster” and Jeff, 2 of my Texan riding buddies offered to meet up and ride with me to the outer city limits and see me off safely.
Like the true bike-touring enthusiasts we all are, it was a great reason/opportunity/excuse to get out and ride.

2nd August, 2016.
Day 11.
Departure day.
4:00 a.m. and it was already 88’F and very humid. I could smell the salt in the sea breeze (Took my mind immediately back to and felt just like the conditions in the tropics).
With vigor and excitement I set off into the still dark morning to rendezvous with “Buster”. Jeff was not able to make it. Sleep had the better of him.
“Buster” and I pulled into the Exxon gas station at the intersection of S.P.I.D. (South Padre Island Drive, a.k.a. TX 358 and S. Staples St. at almost the same time we had agreed on together.
I noticed he was sporting a new pair of driving lights on Old Silver, as he called her - his BMW R1100 RT.
Promptly, we headed out into the dark of the morning, past the refineries and out of the city towards Refugio, TX.
It was pitch dark along TX 59. Not a light in sight except for those of the Honda and BMW. Fog slowly blanketed us, reducing our visibility and forcing us to slow down from our already sedate cruising speed. Chances of a deer strike at this time of day were high and real.
Extra lights on the BMW came on. His amber fog lights pierced the dark foggy morning effortlessly, giving me improved visibility even being at that distance ahead of him. Impressive. These Clearwater brand of lights were worth looking at and to be researched. I made a mental note of that.
Well, as all good things come to an end, we arrived in Refugio and pulled into the Snappy Foods convenience store parking lot and spent a little while chatting and finally bidding each other farewell. A quick “selfie” together and we promptly parted ways.
He needed to make it back in time for work in Corpus Christi.
So now at 5:30 a.m. prompt, the ST and I headed in the opposite direction away from Corpus Christi into the still-dark morning, northwards along TX 59.
Sunrise at 7:00 a.m. found me in Ganado, TX.
I pulled off the highway for some “wake-up” time.
I was surrounded by silence and solitude. It is times like this that I cherish and appreciate so much. Out on the open road, I get to think of all my various blessings in this particular aspect of my life. That which I am so grateful to experience and hope to share with others in the hope that it will be infectious enough to get them to experience it for themselves.
Looking ahead to my journey, I would be traveling “point-to point” or destination to destination.
I had not chosen any specific places to visit and this stretch of the country was nothing but Interstate traveling through a lot of industrialized areas.
The plan was to knock down the miles, traverse the states and get to overnight destinations along the way.
One of my pre-determined stops along the way though, was to be in Prattville, AL.

In search of The Bamarider.
Fast rewind to September 2007.
My ongoing search for an ST model Honda was actively underway.
Through the magic of internet searches, I was totally immersed in my computer each and every day and night. I was scouring every page of results that I was linked to, through which I came across information leading to a gentleman who seemed to have so much background with respect to experiences in life pertaining to motorcycles, in common with me.
Naturally this stoked my curiosity.
I found it uncannily interesting that this person, worlds apart from me and of a totally different background had so much in common with me, with respect to my thoughts about and passion for motorcycling.
I thought I was the only person in this world who was this passionate about motorcycles and traveling, enough to dream about and have such a great desire to get on a machine and ride off to far away places of personal interest.
How wrong I found out I was!
My dreams and wishes - he had lived them all already!
Many times over.
I would love to meet him and hear his stories and experiences.
Experiences that seemed to run a strong parallel with some of mine, from half way across the world.
I have subsequently come to experience and witness in life that we are all very similar in a lot of ways, no matter where we come from.
So as the months rolled into years, I persistently and continuously began to try to find a way to get to meet this person one day, if possible.
For a couple of years gone by, I had all but given up because to date my efforts had come pretty close to, but not yielded the end result I was hoping for.
So as I began to plan this trip, thoughts of him crossed my mind, knowing that I would be passing through the state in which I had come to know he lived in, I decided to put in another effort.
Again, with continued concerted efforts and through the magic of the internet I was able to make contact with him 3 months before embarking on this present trip/tour.
I was excited.

I was anxious.
I was nervous.
I hoped he wouldn’t think I was some kind of a “wierdo”.
So with his current address in hand, I sent a letter describing my self in brief detail and how and why this had all come to this point for me.
Needless to mention I was overjoyed when he responded, saying that he would be more than glad to meet me as well.
Now, 9 years later, he and I were on a path to finally get to meet each other.
I looked forward to that.
I had so much I wanted to share with him - stories from my background that seemed to run such a parallel with his, although as I had said we were of such different backgrounds, and I was even more so excited to hear more of his stories of life on the road as well.
So back to the present time, I kept my eye on my next destination for the trip.
Not having the luxury of much time to accommodate all the miles I needed to traverse back to Ohio, I needed to stay on the Interstate highway system in order to manage the journey and destinations I had planned for this return journey.
I “pounded” the highway all the way to Breaux Bridge, LA. my only excitement being an extremely strong thunderstorm and rain which forced me off the highway for about an hour.
The rain so heavy, I could not make out vehicles in front of me!
It was a clap of thunder and the sound of a lightning strike (which felt like it was right next to me) that made me exit the highway at my earliest opportunity after that.
Boy was it scary!
My stuffed animals, ahem, I mean my pillion riders, were instantly drenched/soaked. I had to get them to shelter.
All this time, they never complained one single bit! They are such great riding companions!
As I recall it, on all the rides/tours we have taken together, they’ve never complained one single time - never complained about the ride being too fast, too slow, too hot, too cold, too wet, too scary, too far …………….
I mean these guys are great!
They’ve never even asked me to pull over for a “potty break”.
I couldn’t ask for better riding companions!
So I ducked into a Shell gas station and took advantage of their gas pump island for shelter from the rain and now submerged road. Cars going by were deep in water up to their rims.
Within seconds, other motorcyclists rolled into the station and joined me and a handful of cars here under the roof.
They were In the same boat as I was!
We had become a gathering of shelter-seekers and with that in common, conversation flowed freely.
We were all curious about each other and exchanged our stories amongst each other.
It made the time go by so quickly and after what seemed to be such a short period of time, the downpour of rain subsided and water drained off the streets.
As the remaining clouds shed what was left of their water, the sun began to peek out, signaling safer conditions for us all to resume our individual journeys.
I rolled into Breaux Bridge and checked into a hotel/motel.
A typical industrialized town, birthed around the oil industry, the parking lot “smacked” of traveling representatives of various oil industry support services, truck loads of tools, materials and parts for the various companies and a handful of journeying tourists like myself.
A good shower, and dinner (a hamburger I picked up just ahead of my arrival here) and I was ready for some good sleep.
So with phone calls dispensed with I settled in for a good nights’ sleep.
It had been a 494 mi (790 km) riding day. Tomorrow was to be more of the same. Another 400+ mi. (640+ km)-day was in the plans.
The plan was to continue eastwards across Mississippi, Alabama and into the Florida Panhandle then turn north and back into Alabama.
I would be getting off the Interstate highway system after Prattville in order to experience and enjoy some more Appalachian Mountain riding.
All was good.

3rd August, 2016.
Day 12.
I slept for an extra hour longer than I intended to.
I did not realize that I was that tired. But what the heck. I was on vacation.
So what if I get where I want to later or earlier? As long as I arrive safely, I’m fine with that.
So at 8:00 a.m. local time, I promptly set off into the lovely warm and muggy morning, continuing my journey eastwards towards my next target, Florida.
Feeling more rested after all the activity and hustle and bustle of the wedding and its socializing, I began to feel slightly more relaxed.
I had put several miles between myself and the Texas state line, let alone the miles within Texas itself in just getting to and across into Louisiana - a journey in itself!
I pulled over at each state line to capture my obligatory crossing photos in the heat of the day.
It was getting hotter by the hour, very hot.
I made sure to rehydrate myself at each of the state lines.
My bike was running well. Very well.
Why was I surprised?
After all it’s a Honda, and this particular model and its predecessor, the ST1100 are legendary for their reliability and duty.
At the Florida state line, the heat was almost unbearable.
I would have to seek shelter and get out of the sun for a while.
I was literally beginning to overheat.
I could feel that my skin temperature had increased, now that I was not moving in the wind.
Shortly after leaving the state line, I saw the sign offering an exit off the highway towards the visitor/welcome center. I took the opportunity and got off the highway.
The visitor center had a great outdoor area with several gazebos provided for shelter from the sun. (Thank you, planning committee).
I found one and ducked underneath it as quickly as I could and immediately reached for some water.
In an effort to cool down as rapidly as I could, off came my boots and socks.
It was hot. Almost no breeze.
I could not take my mind off the heat.
I mused at the mounted U.S. Navy jet on display and sauntered over to take a few photos when I felt I had cooled off sufficiently.
Insert photo with jet display here.
It was just past 3:30 p.m. local time and I still had a little over 200 mi. (320 km) to go in order to arrive at my final destination for the day - Prattville, AL. so I could not afford to linger too long here. My plan was to make this a straight shot. I had not selected anything of particular interest to see between here and there.
Whatever I would come across, time permitting, would be icing on the cake.
I gathered myself together, put socks and shoes back on, loaded my “chuck bag” (food bag) back on the bike, put my trash into the respective containers/trash cans provided and proceeded to turn and head north towards and into Alabama.
although uneventful, this leg of the journey took me through some very lovely countryside.
Beautiful rolling hills and great asphalt, which are always welcome and such a delight to a traveler such as myself.
With the sun shining high in the sky and to my left, I felt secure and comfortable in the knowledge that I was indeed heading due north.
As the miles rolled by, I was putting more distance between myself and the south. It was a bittersweet situation because my ride along the southernmost portion of the country on this trip had come to an end, I was leaving behind the hot, humid conditions of the gulf area and was looking forward to the drier/less humid weather away from the coast.
I was sweating profusely and had been for the last couple of days.
I don’t recall sweating like this since my days growing up halfway across the world and in Texas.
I began to muse at how acclimatized I had become to the weather way up north in north east Ohio where I now call home.
The human body is truly an amazing machine!
I was moving.
The breeze passing through my mesh riding jacket (read about it in my upcoming section dedicated to my choice of riding gear and related tips) accelerated my body-cooling process.
For the time being, as long as I was moving, I felt comfortable.
I made sure to stop and drink lots of water each hour and a half.
I felt okay.
I was enjoying the scenery.
I was enjoying the ride.
My shadow, to the right of me, kept me excellent company, mimicking each and every movement I made.
It waved back to me and gave me a “thumbs up”.
Like the good life long companion it was, it never left my side!
All in life on the road at this time was good.
I felt blessed.
I said a quiet prayer of thanks.
The miles rolled on and at 6:30 p.m. local time with the sun still high in the sky, I arrived in Prattville after having “laid down” 467 mi. (747 km) miles.
The GPS unit guided me to my hotel of choice where after all formalities had taken place, I made a call to “The Bamarider” to announce my safe arrival.
Meeting a couple of hours later he fetched me and kindly invited me into his home to spend part of the evening with he and his wife.
We sat up late into the night sharing stories of our individual backgrounds and experiences of “life on the road as long-riders”.
I have no doubt that we could have sat up and kept going like this all night long.
With an invitation to breakfast we cut the night short in lieu of a good rest for all of us.

4th August, 2016.
Day 13.
Bamarider picked me up in the morning after I checked out, after which we returned to his home for a lovely southern breakfast of bacon, eggs and “grits”.
I had “grits” for the first time, and it was so reminiscent of a breakfast grain we have halfway across the world.
I cannot say enough about their warm hospitality except for the fact that the world needs way more people like this.
Their friendship towards me is and continues to be a blessing that I am grateful for.
It had been a chance-meeting that started to come about several years ago.
We took a ride in his golf cart around the neighborhood, checked out all the bikes in his present “stable of bikes” (all 3 of his sport touring machines) and talked about upcoming rides to and of places we would like to visit next on each of our individual trips.
It was thrilling for me to have this chance to speak with a fellow motorcycling enthusiast who shared the same passion and had actually been to and visited all the places that I still dreamed of visiting one day, not once but multiple times.
I looked forward to those days and times myself.
He had lots of suggestions for me and pointers on what to see and visit along the way - he was/is a trove of road experiences and was only too glad to share his experiences and offer guidance.
The morning wore on.
If I was to knock down my assigned miles for the day, I would have to get onto the road soon.
Insert photo of me ’n Bamarider here.
At 11: a.m. after securing and re-checking my luggage on the bike, “Mrs. B” made sure that at the very least I had enough water with me.
After thanking them again for their warm hospitality we all bade each other farewell and I pulled out of their driveway, out through the neighborhood and wound my way back onto the highway to continue my way north through part of the Appalachian Mountain range.
I particularly wanted to ride along part of the Blue Ridge Parkway and the Cherohala Skyway - a road I had read so much about over the years and had placed it on my bucket list of “must-ride” roads.
The Appalachian mountain range is the 2nd longest mountain range in this country stretching for around 2400 mi. (3840 km) 2nd to the Cascades found along the west coast.
It has become a bikers’ heaven.
Unlike the remaining jagged peaks of other mountain ranges farther west in the country, created by the upward lift of colliding plates in the earths’ crust, the Appalachians were formed by gradual bending and folding of underground rock formations and later eroded by moving glaciers that created the gorgeous lush valleys, resulting in the now gentle and rolling highlands of the area.
My destination for the day was the town of Tellico Plains, TN. at the base of the mountain range where the Cherohala Skyway starts to wind its way through some of the high elevations of the Appalachians.
So after 6 and a half hours on the road I arrived in Tellico Plains - another of the places I had read so much about over the last handful of years and was excited to finally be here - The entranceway to the start of the very famous/popular Cherohala Skyway a.k.a. The Ribbon In The Sky.
I must admit though, I was pretty disappointed with Tellico Plains.
A “blip” of a town that didn’t even show up on my radar. Really small place and from all that I had read about it prior to this time, made it obvious to me that a lot of it was hype!
Arriving here, I was not even sure I was in the town. It could pass for outskirts.
I circled around not knowing whether I was really there or not. But it was what it was.
The only lodging I came across was already filled. Its tiny parking lot was already filled with a whole bunch of HD’s.
Pulling into the only gas station nearby, I sauntered in to ask the attendant/store keeper on duty for guidance to some more lodging in the town.
“Nothing else here, sir. You’ll have to go to the next town further back and try your luck”.
Shucks!
After having dreamed getting here to this place for quite a few years, I now had no choice but to double back and go look for someplace else.
Oh well, these are some of the situations that add to making trips like this an adventure - always a case of the unknown.
So getting onto highway 68, I turned north in search of a larger town and some possible lodging for the night.
18 mi. (29 km) along I arrived in Madisonville, TN right by Interstate 75, locating a Guest Inn and checked in for the night.
At 6:30 p.m. local time, after 324 mi. (518 km) of travel for the day, still hot at 88’F (31’C) unloading luggage off the bike and reaching for and dining on a slice of left-over pizza and the last bottle of water I still had on me in my “chuck bag”, I then took a shower, made phone calls to my wife and kids and went straight to bed.

5th August, 2016.
Day 14.
Out of excitement in anticipation of the days’ ride ahead of me I awoke very early in the early in the morning around 5:30 a.m. local time.
Having checked in to the motel relatively early in the evening on the previous night I was able to get an extra couple of hours of good sleep.
I felt very refreshed.
It was a beautiful, bright, crisp and fresh morning.
The mountain air felt wonderful and I began to pack my gear and load it all up on the bike.

Insert IMG 0995 here
Last nights’ dinner - the lack of a hearty meal, had me feeling hungry this morning. Luckily there was a Hardee’s establishment next door (one that I was too lazy to saunter across to last night).
I walked across and bought some breakfast and coffee, made my way back to the room and set about downloading all of my photos and videos, and catching up on my journal notes from the previous day over my breakfast.
At 8:10 a.m. local time, engine warmed up and luggage re-checked for security, I was ready to set out and experience the my long-anticipated ride along the Cherohala Skyway.
For a moment there, I could not fathom the reality of the situation. I had spent so much time in the past couple of years researching and “soaking up” as much information as I could find about this ride and now here I was getting ready to “do it”!
I had been very excited about everyone else’s experiences they had shared through various means and now here I was getting ready to “do it”!
The weather looked great and the bike and I were dressed and ready to “do it”!
We were ready to Tango in Tennessee!
After check-out formalities I pulled out of the parking lot of the motel and pulled into a Mobil gas station across the street.
I bought some water to drink throughout the day and the bike took in what she needed for the day as well.
Pulling out of the station, I turned left on highway 68 and headed south back towards Tellico Plains.
Beautiful asphalt made for a really smooth ride and just before dipping into the valley that lay ahead I couldn’t help but marvel at the lovely view that presented itself to me.
Insert a photo of the valley ahead along TN 68.
I just had to stop and memorialize the view.
I pushed on and at the junction of highway 68 and 165 a sign instructed/mandated a left turn towards the Cherohala Skyway.
I was savoring this part of the trip.
I was getting closer and closer to the Cherohala Skyway.
I couldn’t get there fast enough. But at the same time I didn’t want to get there and ride it just yet because I knew it would soon be over!
Over but in my history book.
I wanted to linger in the hope of making it last so much longer.
I was now here.
The “chips were down”. It was time to do it!
But I still wanted to preserve the time.
I pulled over on the shoulder of the road and reached for my camera gear and set up for a few photos. With not much traffic in the area my safety hazard here at the side of the road was much less.

Meeting Aubry.
As I began to put camera gear away, a man, also on a motorbike pulled up alongside me, wondering if I was in distress and asked if I needed help.
I thanked him profusely for stopping and offering his assistance and explained that I was okay, having only stopped to take some pictures.
“Are you sure”? he asked again.
“Yes I’m positive. I really appreciate it”. I responded.
And with that, he pulled off and went on his way, which happened to be in the same direction as I would be heading.
So with camera put away and secured, I made the turn left as well, onto the Unicoi Turnpike, a.k.a. the Cherohala Skyway, only to see him up ahead pulled over in the parking lot of the presently closed visitor center to the area, next door to the Charles Museum.
So now I was under the impression that he was in need of help.
I headed towards him, pulled over and then offered my assistance, asking if he was in need.
Confirming that all was well, we struck up conversation.
Being retired, living three valleys beyond where we were, Aubry spends a portion of each and every day on this route. He’s made a daily loop of it and is very dedicated to this daily ride.
He describes it as his “daily therapy”!
The only days he misses are severe snowy and icy days and when other stuff beyond his control crop up.
Curious about my journey/story as well, he asked if I’d ever been on the Cherohala Skyway.
I can still hear him ask me:
“Well, if you have time and would like, I can show you some lovely places along the way”.
Politely trying to refuse, I told him I did not want to impose on him nor take him out of his way.
“You’re not putting me out. It’s my way home. There’s a beautiful waterfall just off the beaten track that a lot of tourists don’t know exists and miss it as a result. If you’d like to follow me I’ll show you”.
So now my mind was running, wondering if I was making good judgement about accepting this kind of an offer from a stranger.
It’s not impossible for something bad to come out of this, just as it’s not impossible for something good to come out of this either.
On both our sides it was 50/50. He was taking a chance on a stranger too.
So I went with my gut feeling on this one.
Something about him made me feel comfortable with the situation.
(In later conversation, he expressed the same sentiments).
So off we went with him in the lead and me being cautiously apprehensive - He was too!
And so my long awaited ride began. The road began to rise in elevation as it hugged and twisted around the mountain side.
Aubry set the pace. I followed. It was a nice comfortable pace, allowing me the possibility of letting my eyes wander off the road for little bits to take in the gorgeous scenery.
Arriving at the River Road Junction, we made a right turn onto a single lane, rather narrow, but adequately paved road.
Man, was I doing myself right by following this man into the bowels of a deep dark forest?
The thought did cross my mind.
But with each passing second we encountered a few bicyclists along the same route. So we were not totally alone on this pathway.
The river alongside the road was probably responsible for the thrilling twists and turns.
We continued to go up in elevation and as if someone turned on a light switch, we arrived at the Bald River Falls.
Pulling up at the side of the mountain, we dismounted, spent a few minutes picking up our conversation again before walking back a few yards to the little bridge we had just crossed over.
Our conversation had now become very “bubbly” as we told each other more about ourselves.
We began to realize that we had a lot in common.
We did not drink alcohol, did not smoke, believed in hard honest work, strong sense of family and were passionate about our motorcycle riding!
The weather pattern in the area this year had been relatively warm and dry and although water flowed over the falls, was not as “full” as it typically had been. But it was still a lovely natural scene to enjoy.
Very refreshing.
The sound of flowing/rushing water always has a calming effect.
Somehow magnetic.
We milled around a while, exchanging pleasantries with a couple of bicyclists doing the same thing as we were.
Upon a further suggestion from Aubry, we mounted up and continued along the road further up the mountain to another location of the river called the Little Falls.
Another very lovely setting.
After I took a couple of photos here as well we loaded up and headed back out of the area back onto the Cherohala Skyway.
From this point onwards it was twist after turn after twist as we wound our way along the highway.
The views were just magnificent. Road surface was good so far and the miles piled on slowly.
We continued to climb in elevation - all the way till we crested the Santeetlah range at 5377 ft. (1639 m) - the highest point.
From here, the descent through the Santeetlah Gap would begin.
The Cherohala Skyway is about 40 mi. (64 km) long and took about 2 hrs. of our time to drive along as it led us along the spine of the Unicoi Mountains.
It pretty much runs through the Cherokee National Forest in the eastern part of Tennessee and the Nantahala National Forest in the western part of North Carolina.
Splendid views!
I think it is best to make this a very leisurely drive (which we did) making for a splendid drive.
Aubry suggested me taking the lead so as I could set a more spirited pace for myself, but this for me, was a road to really slow down and enjoy. I preferred to stay behind him. His pace was perfect for this ride.
Over the whole length of this road, there were no gas stations or convenience stores.
There were though, several overlooks/pull-outs, bathrooms, picnic areas and pathways. So my advice would be to fuel up in Robbinsville or Tellico Plains before starting this ride.
One thing of prime importance would be to make sure that as you ride, do not overheat your brakes. It’s too easy to do that with the steep grades I encountered.
Again where this is concerned, I would advise using your engine and gears to assist with keeping a slow pace and assisting your braking efforts.
Dropping into the valley below, it was too soon for either of us to part ways.
Although I had a long way to go on my journey, I was not ready to part ways with Aubry just yet - nor was he! We were enjoying each others company on this gorgeous ride/drive.
Our friendship was in the making.
The mountain ride had worked up our appetites and with both of us agreeing on chicken for lunch, Aubry guided us to a spot in Robbinsville, NC (called Bojangles) he recommended as the best chicken in these parts - he did not exaggerate!
I highly recommend it to all you chicken lovers out there.
These southerners really know how to do it.
It could not have come any fresher or tastier to these 2 hungry bikers!
Our lunch break off the road passed so quickly and all too soon we had to part ways, but not without a promise to keep our new found friendship alive and a promise to meet and ride together again.
So parting ways with profound gratitude for the shared morning, I began my journey from this point, northwards to wards north east Ohio.
The diversion which has resulted in a friendship for life, had now changed the dynamics of my return journey and I was now faced with a greater personal challenge of a lot of time to make up and distance to cover if indeed I was to make it back home on my planned time and day.
I was determined and with my mind in overdrive the only decision I was able to come to, was to make a marathon journey out of it by staying in the saddle and on the road for the rest of the day and night.
Continuing my way along highway 143, I made it through some familiar territory ( I had come through a section of these parts in 2015) through Cheoah, NC heading towards Stecoah, NC.
At the end of the road in Stecoah, I made a right turn at the junction, picking up highway 28 through Johnson gap and on towards Almond, NC.
At the next junction, meeting highway 74, I opted to stay on highway 28. Cutting through the mountains the road began to contort!
Wow, I had stumbled onto a gem of a rider’s road!
Ooooh, I wasn’t going to pass this one up!
The road twisted and turned so tightly that I had to slow down to almost a crawl!
I thought I had been on twisty roads in my life, ………… to date, they all paled in comparison to this one.
There were no “straights”!
The second I pulled out of a curve, I was entering the next. It was like a dance.
It went on for a long time - close to 3 hours.
It was curve after curve - no excuse me - it was twist after twist after twist!
The road surface was not the best. As the road cut through the forest it continued to wind around the mountains, the thick vegetation and dense foliage - to me - was very reminiscent of scenes from the movie “Deliverance”.
My heart was pounding.
There were no other vehicles around. No sign of human life except abodes I passed by that were tucked so deeply in the forest and mountainside that made them barely visible from the narrow road.
The sunlight was, in most areas, obscured by the dense vegetation, creating conditions which combined with the high humidity, made moss thrive on the road, especially in the curves.
Moss which had formed and was thriving in the pores of the asphalt surface, gave a misleading appearance of shade being cast by roadside trees.
These areas were slick as I found out at the early stages of the ride on this road. It made for poor traction between “the rubber and the road”.
So care and caution were the order of the day!
As time went by the monotony of the constant twists and curves of the road began to weigh on my being.
My focus and attention on the road taxed me greatly and was wearing me out.
I was ready to come to the end of this road.
In all my life of motorcycling, I never knew or even dreamt that I would ever tire of a twisty road.
Twisty roads are what I generally seek out for my riding thrills.
And with a machine such as this ST1300, her handling qualities multiply that thrill factor greatly!
Arriving in Franklin, NC I had covered 33 miles in just about 3 hours.
This is an indication of what a slow speed I averaged on this road.
Believe me, I had to take it really easy and even at that slow pace the ride was still thrilling.
I learned a lot on this road.
Keeping my eyes peeled, reading the road surface accurately before making inputs and adjustments to my ride decisions, “picking my lines” to maximize safety, avoiding unfamiliar road surface conditions, being aware of my surroundings, registering images in my mind that became unforgettable, being ready for animals in the forest, hoping that they wouldn’t suddenly dart out in front of me and all the while realizing that the day was wearing on.
I wasted no time in Franklin. A quick break to settle my tingling senses from the thrill of NC 28 and to rehydrate myself, I “caught highway 23 northwards and pushed on towards Sylva.
As I journeyed on, I was constantly making routing changes and decisions in my mind.
It was getting later in the day and my priority from this point forward was to concentrate on laying down the miles.
Next stop after Sylva was to be Balsam, NC then on to Waynesville, NC right at the base or should I say, a good entry point onto Interstate 40 east.
That meant that my thrilling, twisting mountain rides for this trip would be over.
So as all good things must come to an end, I was becoming more focussed on getting home quickly.
An all-night ride was in the works and shaping up.
I-40 would help me knock down the miles and make up good time.
It would be doing its thing of being “ruthlessly efficient”.
As I finally got onto I-40, the threat of rain loomed large over me.
Not what I really wanted but would no doubt have to deal with it.
I joined the flow of traffic and the ST in true form, picked up its skirts and marched off. In the blink of an eye we were at a comfortable cruising speed and I settled in for the “straight ride” while she did her thing of knocking down the miles. To make it home from here, she would have to “lay down” 592 mi. (947 km) - a tall order for me but peanuts for The ST!
It was now close to 7:00 p.m. local time when I pulled into the McDowell County Rest Area to take a break from the now rainy conditions I was in.
Although the rain in this area had eased up a bit, compared to the last several miles of it that I had endured, it was still very wet.

Insert a photo from the McDowell Rest Area here.

My riding gear served me well, protecting me from the rain.
I was dry on the inside.
Everything else around me was wet. I was not overly concerned. It’s all part of the journey and being prepared for such weather conditions on any trip is a necessity.
Another 10 hrs. in the saddle would put me home around 5:00 a.m.
Include 4 stops of a at least a half hour each and I ought to be home close to 8:00 a.m.
“I’ll settle for that. Very do-able”!
So after a 20-minute break and still in the still wet conditions, I got back onto the highway for the next leg of the journey.
It was going to be all highway now.
Boring highway with nothing of interest enough for me to stop and “gawk” at or visit.
The evening wore on soon to be followed by darkness.
I would need to fuel up before dark so that “fuel shortage” would not be an overnight issue.
I anticipated some fatigue in the coming hours.
I had been up since very early this morning and that made for a very long day already. I estimated about 13 to 14 hours already.
Yikes, and still close to 10 hrs. to go.
Could I make it?
I had no doubts. It wouldn’t be the first time.
(I feel/felt that for my age I was in good enough shape to be able to handle it).
Stopping at the interchange to Interstate 77, I pulled into a gas station to fuel up for the night. I took the opportunity and got some coffee as well. I needed that stay-awake “kick”.
Leaving the station, the blanket of darkness was now unmistakeable.
The weather conditions seemed to be worsening.
It was still wet.
Humidity levels were high.
I was sweating in my gear and needless to mention, was terribly uncomfortable.
I couldn’t help it. It was what it was.
I wanted to strip my gear, but the fear of the alternative - leaving my skin all over the road in event of going down - was not my preference.
The 18-wheelers were relentless - reminiscent of my travels across the Pennsylvania Turnpike in times past.
I was fast approaching another congested area of the country.
The road climbed in elevation as I headed into the Jefferson National Forest.
The worsening road conditions, dense fog, pitch-dark and aggressive, unrelenting, discourteous 18-wheeler drivers began to change my mood, potentially threatening and compromising my safety.
I could feel road rage setting in.
Although I could easily out-pace them and get away into a safer zone for myself, the pitch-dark and heavy fog made me realize that it was really not wise in the interest of safety, to do so, nor was it worth being on the road at this time under such conditions - needless to mention, a forest road.
So I made an executive decision to get off the road for the night at my next available opportunity.
So okay, I would get home 8 or 9 hours later than I would like - not the end of the world!
I found a Motel 8 in Wytheville, VA - (the only one out of all of the hotels and motels I went to in the area) with a vacancy, with its last available room of which I rented in a heartbeat!
I don’t know what was going on in the area. I didn’t care to ask. I was not desperate to know.
The wall clock in the lobby registered 10:38 p.m.
I unloaded the bike and “bedded” her down in the designated motorcycle parking area right next to the lobby entrance, by a couple of other bikes.
My room was barely 20 yds. (18 m) away on the 1st (ground) floor. That was okay by me. She was still close enough for the night.
I felt secure.
After a hot shower to “wash the road off me” I went directly to bed, keeping my unpacking to a minimum in preparation for a very quick re-pack and early departure in the morning to come.
It had been a long riding day. An exciting one for that, with lots of thrills and with new friends added to my circle of friends in life.
My life was that much more enriched .
It had been a day of lovely weather, it had been a day of inclement weather.
It had been a day of lovely roads, it had been a day of treacherous roads.
But most importantly, it had been a safe day with an additional 412 mi. (660 km) on the odometer.
After phone calls to link up with my wife and kids, I prayed the lord my soul to keep, in event that I did not wake from my sleep.


6th August, 2016.
Day 15.
I was up at 5:00 a.m.
I particularly wanted to make an early start.
I began getting myself together and prepared to load up for a possible 6:00 a.m. start.
Exactly 27yrs. ago to this morning, to this day, I remember receiving a phone call from halfway across the world informing me of my fathers’ “passing” in the overnight hours.
It sees like just yesterday!
I miss him tremendously.
I said a prayer for him, wherever he might be, wishing he could still be with “us” and for the opportunity for me to be able to share these exciting times, stories and tales of my motorcycling journeys/travels.
My mind went right back to that first day he put me on the Honda 50 and took me to school.
It warmed my heart that showed with an affectionate smile.
That’s where this all began for me!
Opening the door as I proceeded to begin loading the bike, I was met with very dense fog!
No way could I ride out into this! I could not even make out the cars across the parking lot of the motel.
I had no choice in the interest of safety, but to wait for it to lift before starting my riding day.
So to kill time, I set about downloading what few pictures and video footage I captured the day before in between some new footage I captured doing a “walk-about” in the parking lot.
Around 8:30 a.m. the fog began to lift and I proceeded to load up.
I met up with owners of the other bikes parked next to mine in the parking lot. Like me, they were also waiting for the fog to lift before starting out as well.
so we struck conversation and I learned they had ridden here all the way from Canada, purposely to ride the very same highway 28 I had just come off the day before!
How coincidental!
We had experienced the same thrills and chills of the road, having shared the same experience.
Our conversations and descriptions of the ride were so similar!
……… and through them, I got to learn that the road, highway 28, was a.k.a. “The Moonshiner”.
So we all went about loading up and securing our touring luggage, wished each other a continued safe trip and travels, and parted ways.
I finally felt it safe to get on the road around 9:15 a.m..
From here on out, it was highway riding all the way with nothing much to take note of or tell about.
It wasn’t long after, I think about 45 mins. or so, but definitely less than hour, when I crossed into W. Virginia.
W.Virginia riding is always nice.
Road quality in these parts is really great - the kind my bike and I love.
And not to mention, the scenery is just breath-taking.
Almost Heaven! Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River ………
Around midday in the Charleston area, I pulled off the highway in search of some much needed coffee and a snack - my substitute for dinner last night and breakfast this morning, or should I say for the lack thereof.
Besides, the bike needed some gas.
I found a Marathon Convenience store that satisfied that need for both and used a few extra minutes to force a break.
I really felt tired despite a decent nights’ sleep.
The mountain twisties of the day before had worn me out more than I realized.
I made a mental note of making sure that henceforth, I would put myself in better physical condition before each ride/tour in an effort to meet the challenges of whatever an area would throw at me.
4:00 p.m. found me in the Coshocton, OH area for another rehydration/hide-from-the-heat break.
Home was now foreseeably within striking distance.
And so I pushed on, arriving at home close to 6:00 p.m.
My journey was now officially at an end and ready for my history book.
As the days went by and I compiled/revised this trip, I had journeyed 3835 mi. (6136 km), coming away with new friendships and experiencing so much more of the natural beauty of this country and the blessings and enrichment bestowed upon me through this experience.