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

Day 6
August 11, 1973
Decatur, Alabama

Saturday morning in Decatur looked like a busy day.  Traffic on the boulevard outside my motel was thick and car horns resonated across the parking lot.

The ride to my sister's in Gadsden only 100 miles, so I was in no hurry.  Along the way today I was going to stop in Cullman to see Ave Maria Grotto.  The Grotto is the Holy Land in miniature.

I loaded the Honda and joined the fracas in the streets of Decatur.  It was warm and sunny.  The sign for U.S. 31 South was easy to find, but before leaving the city I pulled into a shopping center with a Rexall drug store to pick up some gum.  When I left there I went down the street for gas with self serve pumps, and filled the 350.  (In 1973 many gas stations were making the transition to self serve.  The were still old fashioned gas stations, but nobody came out to pump, the mega con store was still a few years away)

For some reason I took this picture in the parking lot of 
the drugstore.  Cars  were big and heavy in 1973, but hey,
gas was 35 cent a gallon.

The first few miles south the highway was 4 lane divided, but soon gave way to 2. "I hope Janice is still expecting me, not talked to her in a week, I guess I shoulda called her."

It was a quick ride south to Cullman, where I followed the signs to St. Bernard Abbey the scene of the Ave Maria.  Basically it was the work of one of the monks, he spent his time making images of the Holy Land (Calvary, famous churches etc).  I walked through and was impressed at the detail.  (The grotto is still there and open to the public).  The side trip took me about a hour.  I took a few pictures and moved on to Gadsden.

I took a lot of pictures of Ave Maria Grotto.  But this gives
you an idea of what is there.

I went to U.S, 278, but stopped for something to eat before leaving Cullman.  "Think I'll take a early lunch."  ( I had just finished my first summer at the pickle plant and learned the 11:15 lunch window.  I still prefer the early lunch to this day)

My lunch venue was a small local place with stools at a bar.  Even though it was early, it was kind of crowded.  I parked on a stool, and waited for my waitress.  A 30ish lady, with strawberry blonde hair and dimples, came for my order.  She was pretty, and very business like.  "Would you like a menu?"  "That'd be nice."  She came back a few minutes later and I said, "I'll take the hamburger and fries, ketchup and mustard ONLY."

One thing about being 18 years old in a place like this is- you're invisible.  And now that I look back on this ride many folks treated for what I was.  A kid.  I was just beginning to test the ways of the world outside of Prattville.  I was fascinated by people and places, and after this trip it would only become more pronounced.  The seeds from this ride would have to lie dormant for many years, but they were always there.

A couple of older guys were hitting on the waitress, but I was too immature at the time to realize it.  I thought they knew her.

The hamburger and fries were good, I paid my bill and got back on the road.

The little Honda ran true on 278.  It had a few hilly climbs and I had to drop a gear on the inclines.  The wind felt good and the ride was easy and comfortable.  The scenery was white, wood framed farm houses, and cows grazing.  I stopped at a roadside table a few miles west of Gadsden and took a butt break.  (the saddle of the 350 was only good for about 40 miles before I had to make a move.  The roadside table common in Alabama back there, have all but been removed.)

Kind of blurry, but the best the pocket 110 could do.  I
caught this passing motorist on U.S. 278 at the roadside
table.

I sat around, checked the map, but mostly relaxed.  I'd be coming into Gadsden from the west side, and this would be but my 3rd visit to the city.  My sister married and moved here about 6 months prior.  I was confident enough I'd see something I recognized when I arrived to lead me to my sisters.

A short ride later I was making my way through Attala and soon into Gadsden.  I was in the downtown business district on a Saturday afternoon (In 1973 most cities still had a downtown doing business, albeit they were on the decline) the place was busy.

After fumbling around a few blocks I found my way to Rainbow Drive and I knew where to go from here.  (in 1973 Gadsden was a vibrant place.  They had a big steel mill and Goodyear operated a large tire plant.  The steel mill has long closed and the operation at Goodyear has been scaled back over the years.  At the time Gadsden was significantly bigger than Prattville, today the opposite is true.  Gadsden has actually declined since 1973).

From Rainbow Drive I went by the Country Club and and turned on Azalea Drive and set the stand in my sister's carport.  (She moved across Rainbow Drive a few years later).  All the cars were home so I knew she was inside.  I called out to her when I walked in.  "Anybody home?"  "Yeah in here."  It was mid afternoon and things were kind of slow.

"So how's the trip so far?"  "Never had so much fun."  "Well you always did like riding."  (Thus began my tradition of stopping to see my sister.  But now I stop before or after long cross continent trips.  In 1973 I viewed the 130 mile ride to her house as a long ride.  I often do it now as a day trip to eat lunch.)

After unloading the Four I called Kathleen, who lived a few houses down.  "Hey baby, I'm at my sisters."  "Ok I'll be down there in a minute."

I liked Kathleen a lot, she was fun to hang out with when I was in town.  She often accompanied my sister, when she came to Prattville to visit us.

We spent the afternoon in my sister's pool and cooking hot dogs.  

I asked her, "where ya wanna go tonight?"  "I dunno."  "Pizza and a movie?"  "Sure."  "We'll have to take your car, unless I can talk my sister out of her Lincoln."  "That's fine just lemme know."

My sister was in a good mood so I asked, "look here, reckon I can use the Lincoln tonight?'   "I don't see why not, we're not going anywhere, but if we change our mind we have Newt's car."  "thanks"

I called Kathleen and advised her I'd pick her up at 6, we were going to see Walking Tall. (one of the best guy movies ever) We went to a local pizza parlor after the movie and sat on a quiet table outside to eat.  We ran into a few of her friends, but I think they noticed we wanted to be alone, and sat somewhere else.

The conversation took a serious tone, and it made me uncomfortable.  Kathleen and I had a lot in common, she was Catholic, quiet, also a middle child.  We got along well.

"look baby, I just wanna ride my motorcycle and have some fun, but you know I really, really like you."

"yeah but what's that mean for ME?"

"I dunno, I don't even know what it means for me.  I'll see you when I'm here, or when you come to Prattville.  In between, all I'm gonna ask is you not disrespect me."

"Ok" ( for the next year we saw each other when we could. Then we drifted apart and not long after that I met Debbie.  She moved from Gadsden, but in 1981 she was in Montgomery with a her boyfriend and called me.  I met her for lunch and we caught up on old times, and that was the last I ever saw her.)

It was late by the time I got back to my sister's.  I made a few notes and took comfort tomorrow was a day off from the road, but it was not like I needed one.  I was going to church and taking Kathleen out for a ride, after that the day was wide open.

Next- rest day in Gadsden