Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
Adventures in Sport
Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT
Exploring North America...One Road
at a Time
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Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
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December 22, 2002 Take a gorgeous winter day, 3 friends and co workers with time on their hands, and you have a recipe for a long ride. Fellow firefighters, Red Knights, and good friends Brian Allen and Kenny Wayne Strength have been after me to put together a ride for several weeks, but never could work it in. In fact, we almost failed to pull this one off, but the road gods smiled on us, and everything finally fell into place. The 3 of us are all members of Engine 2, C shift. We spend 24 hrs together every 3rd day, sharing the good and bad of belonging to something special. The bond among firefighters on a particular shift is unique and one of the reasons I love what I do. Not only do we share the brotherhood of doing something dangerous, but we spend a 3rd of our lives together. It is a special camaraderie that few experience. It is one of the reasons I could never work a 8-5 job, not even a staff job in the fire department appeals to me. We eat, sleep, play, train, and make calls together, there is no feeling like coming to work to a fire station each day. We spend a lot of time together, and I felt bad we did not get to ride more often. It was time to remedy that. I was still in bed, but not asleep when Brian knocked on my door at 9 am. My wife sent him to the bedroom- "hey we're suppose to meet Kenny Wayne in 30 minutes!" "dang, last time I talked to that joker he had to go shopping today, so I figured y'all weren't going" I jumped out of bed and washed my face, gulped down some Coke and brownies, and suited up, while the ST warmed to operating temperature. The weather was perfect. Partly cloudy, and mild. As good as it gets in late December. Brian rides a 2000 Harley Road King. Beautiful bike. It rumbles to life when he hits the starter, as I pull out of the driveway. The unmistakable sound of a Harley resonating throughout my neighborhood as we made our way to 6th Street and US 31 North. We quickly cover the 5 miles to I-65 North, and take off to Clanton to meet Kenny Wayne and his 750 Honda Magna. I-65 is busy in both directions with Christmas traffic. We move out to the left lane and settle in at 90 mph. We slip by miles of cars crammed with presents and packages. Mini vans with cargo carriers form a endless line north. A girl in a red VW Bug passes us. What the hell? How did she do that? She must have the peddle to the floor. We fall in behind her, and soon meet a south bound trooper. All 3 of us are doing better then 90 but he ignores us. Must be the season. We cover the 25 miles to Clanton in 15 minutes or less and take the first Clanton exit. We see Kenny Wayne returning from a gas station and pull in a closed down fruit stand for orientation. The Magna only has a 3 gallon tank so he doesn't pass many gas stations. While stopped I called fellow shift member Andy "Harvey" Ellison who lives nearby, but failed to get an answer. We were about to strike out when Santa Claus
drove up. He got out of the car with a bucket of candy, and we grabbed a
handful. We spoke a few minutes and he wished us a safe ride. The plan is to ride SR 145 to Wilsonville, stop at the big flea market there, then ride SR 25 to Leeds. We get back on I-65 North and exit a few miles later to SR 145. A road I have ridden many times. It is one of my favorite roads, and I use it often to get to North Alabama. From the exit to Wilsonville is 30 miles of uninterrupted riding. Rare in Alabama. I feel the warm sun on my back, as we follow Kenny Wayne up the highway. The parking lots of the many churches on 145 are packed. I saw the place where I was pulled over by 2 Chilton County deputies a few weeks ago, but did not get a ticket. The lone red light in Wilsonville snagged us. No matter what direction I approach this light it always snares me. I've been riding through here for 30 years and not much has changed, but I think things are poised for that to end soon. We follow SR 25 out of Wilsonville. Pass the Gaston Steam generating plant, over a long bridge, then a hard bending left hand curve we go, finally bringing us to the flea market. I'm bringing up the rear in the number 3 spot. I'm not much on flea markets but this place is HUGE. The area is covered and the locals call it a "country mall." We parked our bikes out front, and went inside, walking up and down the aisles. Booths selling blankets, antique bottles, crafts, among other things, were doing a brisk business. We stopped at a leather place and Brian bought a 9-11 memorial buckle, and Kenny Wayne picked out a leather wallet. When we went back outside our bikes glistened in the bright sun. A local man was admiring the bikes and made small talk with us as we geared back up. We got back on the road, and took off to Vincent where SR 25 breaks off from 231, and takes us into the hills. SR 25 is the top motorcycling road in Alabama. The Harley and Magna are out of their element here, so I take the front. They run out of ground clearance long before they run out of lean. I'll say this though, Brian and Kenny got all the lean they could out of their bikes. We passed the 29 Dreams Motorcycle Resort, it was closed. I don't know why on such a great day for riding. We met a south bound sport rider in red leathers at the hairpin near the top of the mountain.
Back down the other side of the mountain we went, we were lucky all the traffic was heading the other way. We had a unimpeded run to Leeds, and SR 25 was good.
In Leeds we picked up I-20 West and went to Birmingham. This section of slab is one of the most patrolled areas in the state. The area is usually saturated with LEOs but we fail to see any. I suspect they are getting tired of those Atlanta folks driving like they are home, and decided to crack down. We stopped to give a sedan a break, and let the driver enter the flow of traffic near I-20. It excited the 2 teenage girls in the back seat and they waved frantically at us. We decided weeks ago, the lunch spot for this ride would be the Hooters on the west side of Birmingham. They talked me into it. Traffic on I-20 was heavy for a Saturday, but we found the exit needed for Hooters and worked our way through the endless lines of shopping traffic. It took 15 minutes to ride the few blocks from I-20 to the restaurant. A typical Hooter's girl sits us near the window and soon we give our order to a young lady named Traci. Traci takes our order and comes back to chat with us. She says she once had boyfriend from Prattville and has been to our city many times. I told her- "dang baby didja know we made a special ride up here just to see y'all" "really?" "yeah, so we deserve sumptin special" I had the crispy wings, and while I ate them I thought back to the Hooters in Ottawa with JerryR, and the one in Orlando with RonE, wishing both could be here.
We were finishing up when a attractive lady is seated behind us. I started a conversation with her and find out she is Traci's mother. Hmmmmm. Her name is Donna and says her ex hubby had a Harley, that he crashed several times. Donna says she also rides, and if she had her bike, she would ride out with us. After a great meal and conversation it was time to head south, and see what other trouble we could get into. Its good to take a day and just get lost. The folks back home only knew we were out riding, they had no idea where. Everyone should play hooky now and then, just ride off and be unaccountable. Good for the soul. We take I-20 to I-459, and pick our way through the Birmingham traffic. We make it ok, and find I-65 on the other side, near Pelham. I-65 quickly jets us south where we take the Montevallo exit. Taking the interstate home would be boring. In Calera, I see the Railroad Museum. Have to come back one day and see what that's about. From Calera its a short ride to Montevallo. A small city with a private college in the city limits. Students are home for the holidays so things are relatively quiet. We veer off on SR 139 west of the city, to begin a quiet ride to Maplesville. The highway is guarded on both sides of the road by forest. The tree line is close to the highway and I feared a deer would bolt out any second. Alabama has one of the thickest deer populations in the country, despite a generous hunting season. Hunters can take one a day, from Oct-late Jan. It would be ok with me if they took several a day. Cruising at 70 mph, we passed farms and fields. Houses decorated for the holidays stood guard as we motored toward Maplesville. In Maplesvill,e we kept a close check on our speed. This place is nothing but a speed trap. The city claims "jurisdiction" 2 miles from the city limits. In other words, they patrol all approaches into the city, long before you even get into the city limits. Effective, because they can corral revenue, without having to give city services to the folks living along the highway. Ought to be a law against such stuff. We rode through Maplesville 5 miles under the posted limit. Our trio turns east on US 82 about 3 pm. Today is the first full day of winter, and the shortest day of the year. We only have about 2 hours of daylight left. The coffee shop we wanted to stop at on 82 was closed. US 82 is busy with trucks and other vehicles. The sky is deep blue and warm in the late afternoon sun. A few miles later we cross back into our home county and stop for a butt break in Billingsley. Brian points out he once worked a bad call at the nearby Tenaska plant. We sipped Mountain Dew and decided it was too early to head back to Prattville, so we went to nearby CR 1, it will bring over to SR 14. CR 1 is the best motorcycle road in Autauga County. Quiet, with a few nice twisties. Nothing compared to the more famous roads, but better then anything in Florida. We are riding due west, and the afternoon sun is bright in our face, and as a result we knock off a few mph. An old and broken cotton gin that has being lying abandoned in a nearby field, is still there. been there at least 5 years. CR 1 T bones into SR 14 and we turn east for home. The waning afternoon sun casts our shadows to the front. It was a pleasant ride to Autaugaville, and we when passed by fellow firefighter Carl Wells' house, we beeped our horn at his 2 boys playing out in the front yard. The Magna needed gas again, but the 2 gas stations in the Autaugaville were closed, so we pushed on to Prattville, about 15 miles east. As always, traffic picked up east of Autaguaville. Just west of the Prattville City Limits, we stopped at Big Bass Bait and Tackle for Kenny Wayne to top off the Magna. We took Old Autaguaville Road coming into town because we wanted to stop by station 2 on the way home. The golf course was empty when we came by the country club. I guess everyone is back in by late afternoon. We pulled into station 2 to rub it in with the guys working today, but they are not in the station. The delicious aroma of a roast in the oven wafted over the dayroom. I laughingly called out to Kenny Wayne- "hey know what we oughta do?" "what??" "cut the stove off and run like hell, they'll come back thinking its time to eat only to open it and find it ice cold. Those jokers won't eat till 10' o clock." Kenny says, "yeahhhhhhh do it" But Brian steps in, " better not loo, they'll be pissed, and then they'll mess with us", so we didn't. I called dispatch and asked- "hey is E2 out on a call?" "no, they are PTing at the training faciltiy" We left station 2 and found B shift at the drill field. We caught up on the scuttlebutt with Lt. Chris Ray and his crew, then he took the picture below for us.
They had a roast in the oven to get back to, so loaded back up. Most of the conversation revolved around the upcoming shift change. Nothing stirs up the ranks like a shift change, and one of the biggest I've ever seen is coming down. We made sure to tell them we ate at Hooters today, and they didn't. We left the drill field and a few blocks later, a red light cut me off from my 2 cohorts. I made it they didn't. I stopped and looked back but didn't seem them, so I went home. I guess they did the same. I pulled in my garage after a 247 mile ride. A great day, and one we need to do again. Lets not wait so long.
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