It all started simple enough: ride out to a new art installation/white table cloth restaurant for a quick day ride and be back early afternoon.
You start a little to early and travel a little to efficiently... you arrive at your destination over two hours prior to lunch time. You pass a sign, only 130 or so miles to Mobile. More than you planned...but what the Hell.
Now in Mobile, you think...well we're only an hour from Gulf shores. Never mind being lost beyond all hope in Mobile for an hour.
Oh we are in Gulf Shores...have to eat at Lambert's.
Get back on the bikes and ride out...in the rain.
Well if we are in Gulf Shores we might as well go home through Pensacola...after we stop at the Florabama for beers.
Of course I'm serious.
Leave the bar at around 5pm with around 6 hours of riding to do. Hmm...how did it come to this.
100 miles at a stretch doing 80 plus rolling 6 deep, smallest tank dictating stops. We pushed on the interstate through dark, tired and sore. The last gas stop was over half an hour. Did we not want to get back on or not want it to end?
I miss rides like this.