07/27/13

     As forgiving as our KOA cabin was, the call of nature woke me up at 4am and cartoons and the Weather Channel lulled me in and out of sleep until about 6. Ken was up and about hunting for hot coffee with no success. Finally, when it became painfully clear that there was nothing fresh to be had, he settled for a Starbucks Via from my stash. I opted to have one as well.
     Cliff makes good bars so I packed six. One was knocked out while ken ate beef jerky on the porch. I joined him and noted the table outside the cabin smelled of Bud Light. We got our helmets and headed for downtown.
     On these trips, I always carry an atlas but ever since I got the Earfuze custom molded earphones, I can hear music better I figured GPS instructions would be easier to hear too. Turned out I was right so the Scout GPS app led us downtown.

      At last, we secured hot coffee and proceeded with the tourist bit. We walked a lot, which was nice to stretch the legs after I day in the saddle. We saw the Ryman Auditorium, a handful of notorious Nashville shops and the river. The scenery was excellent and decorated with locals. It was cool out and the morning was superior.

     Jumping back to the KOA, we packed up and headed out but not before tinkering with a tail light issue with Ken's bike. It was minor and fixed to our satisfaction. It was just starting to get warm and I was eager to get moving and a little cooler.
     My goal again was to stay off the interstate and on back roads. A classic mistake I make again, I forget that population density equals slower travel. Our route was marked as scenic and though it took time to reach it, it was well worth it. On the road, you are always chasing the good on the other side of the horizon. It is great when it delivers.
     The road opened up on both sides and retail and urban sprawl became fields and farms. Semi's became tractors and we became guests of the open-armed land. I was reminded of why we stay off the slab. The interstate is not America, this is America. It was vast and breathtaking and as you cross the land at 65 miles per hour it is impossible not to feel something and that something is that you are alive. As excellent as things were, light was growing short so we had no choice but resort to the interstate. Its funny, looking back. Walking in downtown Nashville seems like a lifetime ago.

     We reach Wes' place in North Vernon, again aided by the GPS. I know I am in the right place because I recognize a bike I've never seen in person but know well. It's Chris' Softail. He, Wyatt and Wes come out to greet us and almost immediately, its like old friends sharing stories and laughs. We adjourn for the dinner table where Wes and his wife have prepared and impressive spread of foods made with local, organic ingredients. It is excellent. Everyone has seconds.
     After we are all stuffed to the gills, we go back outside for more bs'ing. Again, the story and laughs rush out. I drink excellent beer and feel overwhelmed by my quality of life. Other than the sting and emptiness of missing my family, I am otherwise overcome by a striking inner peace.

     Making this trip was a good decision. These are all good people and I am stoked about sharing the road with them. I grab a shower and hit the sack. I'm exhausted but afraid I might not sleep.