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 1
August 6th, 1973
Prattville, Ala.

Today I start my big adventure, I'm finally going on a long ride, something I've been wanting to do since Jr. High.  I watched Bronson a few years ago, and if I wanted to be like him, now was my chance.

I was not in a big rush, as I finished loading the 350 Four.  I had a clothes bag, sleeping bag, and a travel case with various sundries.  I was overloaded, but I didn't know it.

By 9:30am I was ready to go.  I called my mother at the cafe (my family owned a small cafe in Montgomery) and told her I was ready to go, and would see her next week.  "Are you coming by here on your way out?"  "No mother it is too far outta the way, I need to get south."

After making one last map consultation I folded it, and stuffed it my back pocket. (my riding ensemble was a football jersey, jeans, and sneakers, no gloves. Nobody rode in protective gear back then.)  I moved a few bills out of my stash to my wallet.

I choked the carbs and punched the starter of the Honda 350 Four, and let the bike idle to warm up.  I had just picked it up a few days ago from a routine service.  It was good to go.

At last I rolled off the stand and headed up Hickory Lane to Fairview.  I stopped at the Exxon Station at Main and Memorial and filled the Four up for 1.12. (no kidding I have it in the notes, gas was 34 cent a gallon.  A huge chrome and glass con store replaced the old fashioned gas station in the 80s, it still pumps Exxon gas)

I reset the trip meter, and took off south on U.S. 31 under partly cloudy skies.  It was hot and humid.  (I-65 was still 2 years away from completion. As unbelievable as it sounds, traffic was directed off 65 into Prattville and motorists picked the route back up in East Montgomery.  If you did that today the volume of traffic would choke the city down to a standstill)

My route veered on to the Western By Pass and through West Montgomery where I went to U.S. 331 South.

At the Catoma Creek bridge I saw 3 men fishing from the roadway, they're not suppose to be doing that, but the deputy that met me on the bridge didn't care, and kept going.

It was a quiet ride to Snowdoun, passing pastureland and dairy farms.  My first stop of the day was De De's home.   I met De De this summer while she was babysitting for my sister.  She was currently at her aunt's in Decatur.  I was going to stop and see her later in the trip.  I was fiends with her younger brother Bobby so I a resaon to stop.

Their white farmhouse, under a huge oak tree, is located just off the highway, it is easy to find. (the house is still there, but it is no longer white, and the big oak tree has been cut down)

I eased the 350 up the long dirt driveway.  Bobby saw me pull in and came out to the porch.  

"hey now what's goin on?'  He called out to me as I took off my helmet.

"nuttin much, on my way south, just thought I'd stop in and see ya."  What I really wanted to know is if De De had mentioned me lately.  He took me around back where he had Yamaha 175 Enduro under wraps.

"Where'd ya get it?"

"I bought it from a boy down the road for 50 bucks, but it quit running.  I don't know what's wrong with it"

I kicked it over a few times, absolutely nothing.

"Man its got zero spark.  Didja check the points?"

"not yet"

Thirty minutes later it was time to get back on the road.   A few dark clouds were poised off to the east, but I was going south and would be ok.

"look here, I better be going.  If you talk to De De tell her I'll see her Friday night, if nothing happens.  I have your uncle's number, I'll call her in a couple of days. (this is the days before cell phones and instant communication.  In these days you had to coordinate things when you were near a phone.  Long distance charges were over 1.00 per minute for instate calls. Why  it cost more to dial in state then out  I never knew)

I left Snowdoun and continued on U.S. 331 South.  The highway is the main connector for this part of the country to the Fort Walton Beach area.  There was no traffic to speak of and the Four motored on merrily at 65 mph.  

"I'll get something to eat in Luverne, should be a number of options there."  Through the quiet hamlets of Ada and Lapine, with their large overhanging trees I went.  I thought back to the summer about to end, and those hot nasty days at the Pickle Plant.  "Man I'm glad that's over."

About 30 miles later I was cruising into Luverne, the first on a string of towns south to the Florida line.  I was last here in 1970 when we played Crenshaw County in a football game. I spotted the cafe the team ate at that night.  I wasn't impressed with the food that time, so pushed further into town.

I rode past a row of nice older homes with porches (331 through Luverne is still the same, so are are houses) and waved to a couple of nursing home residents in wheel chairs sitting out on the landing.

U.S. 331 turns hard right onto Main Street and the business district was busy on this Monday afternoon.  I rode on a little further and discovered the Chicken Shack, it smelled good so stopped for something to eat.

The Chicken Shack was a walk up and order place.  There was no dining room.  I got 2 pieces of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and tea, and sat down under a tree since I had no car to eat in. (The Chicken Shack is still there, but the old building has long been torn down, replaced by a large restaurant with a big dining room.  Debbie and I sometimes eat there on our way to the beach.  The food is still good.)

"Now this is livin," as I calmly sat and ate my lunch, the 350 Four right in front of me.  I checked my trip meter, 64 miles so far.  The rainy clouds were still off to the east.  I made a few notes on the trip so far, and then leaned against the tree and took a nap.

I was about to mount back up when a green Ford pick up pulled in beside me.  A old man, short in stature and gray, seemed to flow out of the truck.  He said, "where ya off to young man?"  "I'm thinkin I'm goin to Dothan."  "Good a place as any I'd say."  (thinking back this man was probably about my current age.  He looked so old to me when I was 18.)

The afternoon was passing quickly.  "I better get a move on."  I stayed on U.S. 331 and left Luverne.  The next town on the list was Brantley a scant 12 miles south.

There was still no traffic and the riding was good. (this section of 331 is now 4 lane divided)

They call Brantley the front porch city for good reason.  The northern end of 331 is lined on both sides for a half mile with old homes with front porches.  Back in the day before tv and AC, people sat on the porch each evening, and talked while the kids played in the yard.  The town was a friendly place (this is still true today, and the homes with their porches are still there, but 331 is a much busier highway.  At the time of this tour Alabama's population was about 2 million, it is now close to 4. And 331 ceased being a quiet, peaceful highway with only the occasional car long ago.  In the summer it is clogged with traffic in both directions.)

Just south of Brantley I made my first route change as I turned onto SR 189 and headed for Elba. The scenery was mostly timberland and pasture.  The Honda seemed to be handling the touring load ok, and I had no problems, other then the bike wanting to pull to the right.

At 65 the tiny pistons in the 350 seemed to be kind of busy.  To do any kind of passing I had to drop a gear. (this is one of things that is hard to relate to.  The immense power of my present bikes, make the 350 Four seem like a scooter)

Elba was a sleepy southern town with a prominent courthouse.  It seemed like a good place to live.  In Elba I picked up SR 12 and saw the sign pointing to Enterprise.  "That's where I need to go." ( I can't remember exactly when, but the town of Elba was virtually wiped out in the 90s when a flood overcame a nearby levee.  Many of the buildings and homes I saw this day were lost.)

I was for sure taking the long way to Dothan, but I didn't care I was riding!  I wanted to pass through Enterprise to see the Boil Weevil Monument.  It is located in the middle of town.  The city was busy so I didn't hang around long.  I was getting thirsty so stopped at a store on the East side of town.  I took a 7 Up and jotted down a few notes.  It was still hot and muggy.

After my break it was time to knock down the last few miles to Dothan and call it a day.

I arrived in Dothan about 4 pm and cruised the city to see what I could find.  While coming through the business district a large sedan (all cars were big back then) left the curb parking and pulled into the lane ahead of me.  I jammed the brakes, and avoided a mishap.  (The 350F had a disc brake in the front, drum in the rear, that was not very effective.)

When I finished surveying the area I decided to pull in the Bee Line Motel.  The old motel was probably built in the early 50s.  It was a locally owned place.  I went in the front office filled out the card and picked up my key.  Total cost was 6.50 paid in advance.  ( the Bee Line is still in Dothan the last time I came through there, but renovated many times I'm sure.  It looks to be a flop house.  I wouldn't stay there now)

The motel was configured in a U shape, and my room was on the left side, all the units were ground floor.  I was in number 5 and took the 350 up to the front door and unloaded after a 152 mile day. ( the only picture I took this day was of the 350 in the parking lot, but somehow I misplaced it.  All I know it is in my house somewhere, perhaps mixed in with pictures from my modern tours, back before I went digital)

After unloading I took a walk down the street for a Coke and popcorn, and upon returning I checked my cash stash.  I had about 350 dollars on hand and my checkbook. (there were no such things as ATMs, and if you were more then 15 miles from your bank, nobody was going to cash your check.  National and regional banks were not to be found. If you were out of your home territory you took whatever cash on hand you thought you needed.  Mastercard and Visa were just starting out, and not accepted many places except fancy restaurants.  Didn't matter, I had neither)

Back at the room I couldn't get the small black and white tv to work.  "Owell I'll work on it later, need to get a shower."   When I finished I went back out of the business district to a McDonalds on Ross Clark Circle and ate supper.  Back in the parking lot 2 guys my age with real long hair and cut offs asked where I was from. 

"Where ya from?'

"Prattville"

"what brings ya down here?"

"nuttin really, just riding around."

The conversation took a weird turn I didn't like, so I eased out.  They were basically asking me if was interested in drugs, but didn't get far enough to find out if it was to buy or sell.  (that McDonald's is still there)  It was almost dark when I left the fast food place and went back to the motel.

"Well that was different," as I opened the door to the musky smelling room.  I worked on the TV and finally got a grainy picture to come in.  (there were only 2 stations to pick up, cable tv was still in its infancy)

I was going to call home, but the room was absent a phone, and I didn't feel like walking up to the office to use the pay phone.  Instead I got interested in a old movie and watched it to the end.  (really had no choice, stations went off air around 12, and even if I had a clicker what was I gonna surf with just 2 channels?)

Sleep came about 12:30 am.  I had a good time and was thinking, "I'm really gonna like this motorcycle touring stuff."

Next- riding west to visit an old friend.