Quick Trip

Fate and a sick child overtook my plans for the Swap and Drag this past weekend. My mother in law was kind enough to watch the girls Friday so I could get a little seat time in before the cabin fever inspiring weekend. BamaRides has a pretty great photo-tag game going on and since I had the time and the location, I went for the tag. It was placed on an awesome stretch of county road just outside of town.

It was chilly and the rain chances ended up being more than just empty threats. That said, 60 miles are better than none. I met a friend close by for Mexican food and stuffed myself with skirt steak before heading back out into the downpour. Much to my chagrin, the precipitation situation had gotten worse.

I stopped for a photo to move the tag. 10 miles away from the house the three layers of cotton up top were soaked through insulating my torso with water. The wind cooled it further and I reached the point of abject misery. At times like this, a handful of miles might as well be a million and you feel like you'll never get home. Eventually through the droplets and fog on my glasses I could see the end and pulled the bike into the garage. The sizzle of cool rain on hot exhaust rang in my ears as I dashed inside, stripping off the layers and rushing to start the hot water in the shower stall. If a day is good enough, not even cold and rain can ruin it. I put this one in the "W" column.

07/29/13

     After a wet finish in Joplin, it was nice to find that the morning was dry. A long, hard day and cold beer were ingredients that resulted in a great night's sleep. I think it was a universal phenomenon. Everyone awoke in a good mood. After packing I enjoyed a Cliff Bar and coffee and soon after we were on our way.
      Route 66 came quick. Chris had done his homework on a good, local breakfast joint. The others ate while I enjoyed a water and the company. Wes received a plate that was more than he cared to handle so I picked up the slack by polishing off a pancake.

     Back on the road, almost instantly we came to a small town full of cool stuff to see. The people of Baxter Springs are some of the friendliest people I've ever seen. I was literally approached by everyone I saw. We all were. It kind of felt like the town from the Truman show.
     We were like kids in a candy store, posing and goofing off with the signs and artifacts. I would wager there were more pictures taken in this stretch than on the rest of the trip. The antique store owner wanted to take our picture too. People were taking photos of the bikes. It was all very surreal. The sky looked black ahead so we put on our rain gear and proceeded to get a good 20 minute soaking. Thanks to the OK heat and sun, we were dry before lunch.
     In the next town, Miami pronounced mI-am-uh, we stopped at the tourism bureau and got loads of info about things to see and do. The first was the local motorcycle museum which was nothing overwhelmingly awesome but there were some cool bikes and an Evel Knievel exhibit that had some cool stuff.

     We stayed on 66 into Claremore which was home to the J.M. Davis Gun Collection. This man started collecting guns at the age of seven and never stopped. The display was over 13,000 guns and was positively overwhelming. The collection is painstakingly organized and cataloged but it was easy to get lost in it. Literally, I had a hard time finding the exit.

     There was a handful of other cool things we passed but unless you have unlimited time, the best you can do is just look and take it all in. Each side of the roadway is littered with discarded leftovers of times gone by, some in use but most just being left to disappear. I was glad to see it before it all goes away.
     It was getting late in the day so we elected to do the interstate boogie again. We detoured through downtown Tulsa which looked like it could be fun. The entertainment district seemed to be hopping especially for a Monday afternoon. Again, rarely is there enough time.
     Passing through OKC was impressive and whet my thirst for all the things that lay ahead. We passed the Cowboy Museum and I was shocked at how big it was. I am guessing its going to take some time to go through.

     Home for the next three days is another KOA just outside El Reno. It is going to be nice not to have to pack the bike again for a few days. We unpacked and walked to the nearby restaurant for dinner. There is another rider staying nearby and he joined us sharing a tale of woe about having to have major bike work performed on the road by an inept, young mechanic.
     As has been the standard, no punches were pulled and we had a good time at the table. I am pretty sure the staff at the restaurant hated us but they probably get tourists like us all the time and are jaded as a result. No matter. I grabbed a shower and felt better but thoroughly beat. I'm tired but excited. Tomorrow the real stuff begins.

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.

Southbound

I knew it was high time for a beach trip. I put the word out here and there and had a taker, a good friend who just got his bike back on the road. With a donated tire (props to Josh) and help from a friend (thanks Brandon) he was able to make the trip. The plan was to meet between 6:00 and 6:30am for breakfast and hit it soon after. My pal was working with a new pack and had some issues getting it set up like he wanted and on the bike. He was a bit late but it would end up working in our favor. We gassed up and hit the road.

Highway 31 was the doorway to the connecting roads that would deliver us to Florida. I had originally planned to hit 231 to a state park outside Tallahassee. In order to give us more time the following day and not retrace my steps from a recent ride to Dothan, I changed the route. We followed 331 to the state line where we stopped for gas and food. Florala is a small border town well known to travelers heading to the gulf. Our restaurant of choice was on the beaten path near the gas station.

It wasn't much longer before we arrived at our destination. We made great time and arrived at Grayton Beach State Park around 2:00pm. We didn't have any problem checking in...until we mentioned that we camped in hammocks. Florida is apparently very protective of its coastal trees and they were worried if they would support us or if our setup would inflict damage. The first site were were assigned (pictured above) did not have trees large enough so we moved to the site directly across the lane. They asked before we tried anything that we show them where we planned to string up so it became a bit of a fiasco (one of many over the weekend) of moving sites, getting approval, etc. It all ended up working out fine. Just be aware if you are going to Florida and you plan on camping in a hammock, you might encounter some resistance or have to jump through some hoops.

 

All the effort was well worth it, the state park had access to the bay and the gulf. We got unpacked and set up and walked down to the beach. There was a killer sandbar and the water was warm and clear. We spent some time soaking off the road dirt. It started to rain so I walked the half mile back to camp in a rush to cover up my gear. Some stuff got a good soaking but nothing terrible. I had made some light preparations for rain before hitting the sand. 

Worried about more rain, I hung a tarp over my hammock. This would keep me dry later. We shot the shit at our site and my buddy hit the beach again. I cooked chili and ate and drank a little bit before calling it a night.

I slept from roughly 8pm until 5:30am the next morning. Everything wet had dried as it was getting hot quick. We were losing our shade and were ready to hit the road again. I ate breakfast, made coffee, made one more trek to the sand and hit the road.

 

Hopping back on 98, we made slow progress through every touristy beach town. There were small stretches where we actually covered some miles but they were few and far between. We grabbed a $1 menu lunch and gas. Since time was getting away from us and I was afraid we would not make it to Mobile that day I decided to call ahead to the Gulf State park and reserve a campsite. I had called several weeks before and been told I would not have a problem getting a spot the week after July 4th. Apparently the operator who said this was not aware that the softball world series would sell out every campsite and hotel in the area. Neither were we. An hour of smart-phoning and calls later and we still did not have a place to stay. We said screw it and pressed on. 

We detoured off 98 onto 399. This was one of the best decisions we made the whole trip. Navarre Beach had the whitest sand and bluest water we saw all weekend. There were stretches of road that are not developed and you are literally right next to the gulf on both sides for miles at a time. We took a brief break, the sun was relentless and we were really cooking at this point.

My buddy decided to split off, he wasn't really interested in my next destination and I think the pace and the sun were negatively effecting his good time. I was going to snap some shots of the National Aviation Museum in Pensacola but I never made it on base. Apparently you have to have a long sleeve shirt (neither a t-shirt or long sleeved jacket will work, I asked) to ride on base so we never even got past the gate. This was fiasco number 2. I backtracked and headed for Perdido Key.

Another bit of smart-phoning and I had some leads on places to stay. Thus begins fiasco number 3. The Beech Camper and Mobile Home park in Orange Beach does not allow motorcycles on its premises. Noted. Another site I won't even name wanted hotel money for a site. No sir. I spoke to a very nice woman on the phone who promised she could find us a space on her site so I went to check it out. Basically we would be stringing up our hammocks in her front yard with no privacy, shade, etc. There were also some "sites" in the woods next to the main loop of the site but old discarded junk, swarms of insects and a strange odor at these "sites" was a little too Texas Chainsaw Massacre for me. I passed. I hit 59 towards Foley stopping at every hotel I saw. I was hit with a lot of "no vacancies" and was quoted rates everywhere from $160/night to $240/night. I decided to loop back. A run down off the road Travelodge had one room left so I grabbed it. I called my buddy and unpacked.

We took a break, cleaned up and decided to venture out for some food. The Keg is a locals joint tucked away in Orange Beach. I happened upon it several years back with my wife and every time I am in the area I try to make it by. The food is great and the staff is friendly and fun. I highly recommend looking it up if you want a non-touristy burger and beer. Heading back I was amazed at the late night traffic and the amount of people out and about. It had been awhile since I was in the area in the summertime. I got back to the room, showered and drifted off to sleep with the help of several rum and cokes.

I woke up the next morning to this. We delayed our departure and waited for a break. We looked at the weather, altered our route, packed and loaded and hit the road. We didn't get far before going through another shower that would keep us damp the rest of the day. 

It was clearing so we decided to check out the beach one last time. This ended up being our saving grace. We watched bad storms and lightning pass directly over our intended path. Killing two birds with one stone, we thought if we were going to sit we might as well eat so we grabbed a booth at the Rib Shack and dined before getting back out in the now manageable showers.

I wrapped my pack in my rain jacket which did a great job of keeping my gear dry. We rode through Pensacola once again and back to 31. I was pretty much over riding in the rain at this point so I opted to catch 65N near Flomaton. My partner wasn't in quite such a hurry so he opted to keep going. I got a text from him later that he got a hotel room for the night and would take his time getting back the next day.

I arrived back home in time for supper. I unpacked my gear, all of which smelled like bug spray and campfires. Even with it's rough spots, it was a killer trip and I already miss being on the coast. I am sunburned in places (should have reapplied), the only souvenir I brought back. If you live close and ever need a quick getaway, don't ignore the coast. There are tons of great state parks to stay in and cool places to see. Do some research, plan your trip and get out on the road.

As seen this past weekend...