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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Bridges to the Past It had been a long time since I lost myself for a day. The 1100 had spent most of the winter on light duty, because it needed tires and a oil change. My longest ride since returning from the Blue Ridge last October had been about 60 miles. The few times I wanted to ride longer, the weather was crappy. Since last October it seemed I was working on every pretty day. I finally changed the oil on the 1100, and a short while later took it the shop for tires and servicing. I had no idea when my new bike was going to arrive, so I made sure the 1100 would be ready for anything I might need it to do. Like a short day trip, or a ride out to the Hotel California. The day I picked up the 1100 from the shop Lakehill called me and advised my 1300 was shipping, and would be at the dealership in a few days. I brought the 13 home on the 16th, but duty called the next 2 days, no riding. It drove me crazy to be on duty with a new bike in the garage on 2 of the prettiest days of the year. I needed the good weather to last at least one more day, and it did. I spent last night on the internet looking for a place to ride I hadn't already been in Alabama. I wanted at least a 300 mile ride. I recalled reading something not long ago about the covered bridges up in Blount County, so did some research and found what I was looking for. There are 3 famous bridges in Blount County, all are still in service. With my atlas, I made notes, and planned my strategy. The area in question is 40 miles north of Birmingham, close to the Warrior River. I've never been there, so I was looking forward to making the ride. The names of the bridges are- Swann, Horton, and the Easley, they are scattered in different areas of the county. When I finished with that, I pre staged my camera, Oakleys, cell phone, and atlas on the table to make sure I didn't forget anything the next morning. I will take the scenic and fun route north, and return south the quick and dirty way. I was up early on my day off, and anxious to get going. I rolled out the driveway a little after 8am and stopped off at Wal Mart to pick up a table tripod for my camera. The weather was perfect, and the air temp on the 13 read 66 degrees, as I purred up I-65 north. I trimmed the screen up to my chin, and settled in for the quick ride north to SR 145. At this height I have just a little wind noise, and no buffeting. Keeping the 13 ANYWHERE near the 70 mph speed limit is painful. This bike loves warp speeds, at 100 mph you feel like you can get off and jog beside it. It is that quiet and smooth, with tons of throttle left. Today is the Friday before spring break in Alabama, and already traffic is building on the south side of the interstate, all heading to the beach. It is a 40 mile ride to the SR 145 exit. I was glad to get off the interstate to explore. I've been riding 145 for 30 years, but today I set back and try to notice something new. I recalled what this road was like 30 years ago. There are many more houses and roads along the way today. The ever expanding migration out of Birmingham is slowly moving south. Shelby County is now so expensive many have been forced to flee further south for the refuge of Chilton County, with its cheaper land prices. To live in Shelby County is to mean you are "well to do." SR 145 has an open stretch of road about 15 miles from I-65. It is about as straight as a road you will find in Alabama. I use this section of highway to top end my bikes, but the 1300 is still 200 or so miles from being totally broke in, so I peeled back after hitting a 110.
The route dumps me out in Wilsonville where I pick up SR 25. It has been very dry in Alabama so far this March, so the area is hazy with smoke from a few wildfires burning in the area. Alabama wildfires are nothing like those of out west. They burn slow, and with not much intensity. The land is too green and moist to burn any other way. I passed through Harpersville and Vincent. The latter is where SR 25 breaks away from US 231, and goes up and over the Marble Valley. This route is the finest road in Alabama for 2 wheels. I've ridden it hundreds of times, and today I'm riding it to compare how the 1300 stacks against the 1100. It does not take long for me to find out. The 1300 is much more responsive. It flicks more easily, and stays on the line picked like one of those rabbits at a dog track. The precise feedback from the fuel injection to the throttle is spot on. Honda has really done a good job on their FI. The transmission is typical Honda, flawless. I rode the 13 conservative through her paces. The powerful motor also makes the 13 a formidable ride in the twisties. Power is instantaneous, just pick a gear. I took a break at 29 Dreams Motorcycle Resort. I made a few phone calls and returned a voice mail my wife had left me. She said, "be home by 4 so we can go somewhere tonight." I sat out on the deck and enjoyed the warm sun. A Harley rider and Ducati rode in together and I fielded a few questions about the 13. Both said the 13 in blue was strikingly beautiful. When I finished my break it was back to more leaning. It was a great ride over the mountain. The 13 is a way better bike than I am rider. I'll probably never be able to test its limits.
I entered the city of Leeds and picked my way through the traffic to US 411. I am now in the habit of trimming the screen all the way down in traffic or parking lot speeds. Dogwoods were blooming everywhere in the city. US 411 was thick with traffic all the way to Odenville. I followed 2 Harley riders most of the way. The south bound traffic made it impossible to get around them. In Odenville I went to SR 174. A nice quiet road through the blooming Dogwoods. I went by several old barns thought about how fun it would be to find one full of hay and sack out for a 30 minute nap. The haze of Central Alabama wildfires was now gone, leaving a pristine blue sky. What a gorgeous day for a ride this is. Not hot, not cold, but just right. I pulled to the Springville Cafe located in the heart of the town, for lunch. I strolled inside and found a table. A waitress my age called out to me in a rolling southern accent- Whacha want baby, a menu or the buffet?" "y'all gotta a buffet?" "yeah its in the next dining room" "think I'll do that, just bring me some sweet tea sweetie" Lunch was fried catfish, hushpuppies, corn on the cob, baked beans and peach cobbler. Doesn't get any more southern than that. The food was good. It was nearing 12pm when I finished eating and the lunch crowd was milling in. Including several old ladies who looked to be members of the local garden club. I left Springville on a county road. I failed to get the number, all I saw was the sign reading Onenota. Right where I was going.
The county road followed a creek, and took me past bare trees with buds about to sprout. In a week or 2 all the trees in this area will be greened up. The air temp gauge was reading in the 70s now. I followed the road till it emptied me back out on US 231. A store at the crossroads had a little old lady in the parking trying to sell a few wares. Most of the stuff looked like something Elvis would buy and put in his house. Oneota was a busy little city when I arrived. I found a empty parking lot and checked my notes. The Horton Covered Bridge is found just off SR 75, so I look back up and check the intersection, "hey thats it right there." A few miles later I found the bridge in question. She sits high above the water below, perhaps 90 feet. The bridge is still in service so I drove to the other side. I took a few pics, then got back underway. Cross number 1 off the list.
My notes were vague so I rode back into town for directions at a Kawaski dealer. "which way is the Easley Bridge?" "turn left at Hardees, and go about 5 miles, you'll see the signs then" The directions were good, and soon the 1300 and I were pulling off the highway onto narrow old farm road. The surface was very bumpy, but after the Maritimes in Canada, I was up to it. Cross number 2 off the list.
The Easley bridge is not very long, but still scenic. What is about covered bridges that makes everyone want to visit one? I went back to 231 and few miles later I saw a local pumping gas in his truck and asked- "is this the right way to Swann Bridge?" "yes, stay on this road till it ends, then turn left, go a few miles and you will see the sign." "thanks" The road to Swann Bridge is no better than the others. Narrow and bumpy. Finally, I see the bridge come into view. At 300 feet Swann is one of the longest in the country. Down below it people are enjoying the weather by wading in the water. I took 2 pics before my camera batteries died. Cross number 3 off the list. Mission accomplished. Time to head for home.
I went back to town and went to SR 160 to hook up with I-65 south. Traffic was bad and getting worse the closer I got to the interstate. I took I-65 when it came into view and took off south. I jockeyed over to the far left in the spring fling melee of south bound college kids. Not the best of drivers, so I put myself in a position to keep my eyes on them. I trimmed the screen up and sat back. Birmingham was busy when I came through. I went through the traffic unscathed and shot out the south end for home. The powerful 1300 overtook cars so fast it was like they were melting before me. My fuel gauge begins to flicker and I see the trip computer go from telling my average mpg to miles left till empty.
I filled the tank up on less then 7 gallons. Next time I'll know to go on the next store. With my gas tank full I charged on south to Prattville. Traffic was BAD. I was caught in the mix of SUVS and mini vans. The 1300 gobbles up interstate miles like no bike I've ever owned. It dominated. At the end of the day I felt I like I had only gone to the store for bread. I rode with the screen up most of the way to Prattville. It knifed through all the turbulence, I can tolerate looking trough the Plexiglas if I'm on the interstate. Traffic was better by the time I exited for home. I pulled in the garage after 292 miles. It was a great ride, and fine way to spend a Friday. By the way the 1300 is one sweet bike.
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