Day 1
October 1, 2001
Prattville, Alabama
My wife jolted me out of the bed about 8am as she got ready for work, announcing
it was time to get moving.
"you better get going"
"no rush, only riding to Nashville to pick up Phil"
"well ok"
We kissed goodbye and I said I would see her in a couple of weeks, she left for
work, as I got ready for the open road. The plan for this trip is to ride to
Sault Saint Marie, then head back south to Toronto, then east to the Maine
Coast. Back south to North Carolina for the fall ST rally in the Blue
Ridge. Two weeks and 5000 miles. Piece of cake after a west coast
run. I know the weather can be iffy up there this time of year, but you
can't see fall leaves in July.
I am riding to Nashville to meet Phil Derryberry, who will be riding with me on
this trip.
I got up and went to my study to pay some bills, and made a few phone calls.
I loaded the ST the night before so was able to dispense with that chore.
I inexplicably rode off from the ATM the day before, leaving my card in the
machine to be devoured. As a result I have to bolt for the bank when it
opens to retrieve it. Without it this trip is a no go.
I pulled out of the garage at 9:05am and headed to the bank to secure my card
before they send it to Montgomery. I walked in and explained my
predicament and needed my card back.
"the cards have to go to Montgomery first, and they will send it to
you"
"but I ain't got time for that, just go out and retrieve it for me"
"that is not the procedure"
"look y'all KNOW who I am, just go get the card, I am leaving for
Canada"
The branch manager went out and secured my precious card, and sent me on my way.
I went by the power company and cell phone place, and paid my bills.
Having finished my last minute errands, I was finally on U.S. 31 heading north
for I-65 to start the trip north. It was a beautiful cloudless day, cool
fall temps. A great day to be on a ride.
I-65 north from Montgomery to Birmingham has to be one of the smoothest and
fastest interstates in the country. I crank the ST up to 85 and settle in
for the 125 mile slab ride to my first exit.
I cruise past lumbering trucks and mini vans, lost in the thought about the
upcoming trip. I have never been to the Upper Peninsula, and I look
forward to it.
In what seems like 15 minutes I arrive in the South Birmingham suburb of Pelham
and exit for lunch at a Captain D's. I recall when this exit was nothing
more then the service station across the street. Now it is a bustling
twist of lights, ramps, stores, and fast food joints.
I had the fish and chicken combo.
I get back on the road, and slide through Birmingham the direct route.
I-65. Traffic is light and I make it through unscathed.
North of Birmingham I exit to SR 157 near Cullman. Not the most direct
route to Nashville, but who cares. All I have is time and a great day to
ride, not going to waste it on a all day slab run. My chosen route will
bring me west of Nashville and allow me to go in on the Natchez Trace.
On SR 157 I pass by flea markets and fruit stands. Traffic on this road is
surprisingly heavy. Where are these people going? There are no
metros in this area of Alabama.
I decide to stop in the country town of Moulton and visit the ball fields.
It was in Moulton in 1992 I was coaching my sons Dixie Youth team in the state
tournament. A team from Prattville had not made it to the state tournament in 20
years. I did a poor job coaching the team in that tournament, and we were
promptly eliminated in 2 consecutive games.
Over the years my son has played on hundreds of ball fields across Alabama and
the South, from grade school to college. Now, whenever I am near a field
that he played on when he was a boy I stop for a visit. Kind of like old
soldiers and battlefields. I guess it reminds me of days long ago, and the
fun he had on these fields.
I have trouble finding the park, and stop for directions at a run down gas
station.
Armed with directions I quickly find the park and dismount to take some
pictures. The field is as I remember it. Immaculate. Funny how in
this poor town of 5,000 or so, the Little League field has such priority.
I look out over the field and can still picture little boys screaming and
yelling from the dugouts. Hundreds of fans in the stands. I see the
light pole we gathered under where I spoke to the boys after we had been
eliminated, trying to quell the tears in their eyes, with a less then good
speech.
I was glad I stopped, but it was time to get going.
I got back to SR 157 and headed north to Florence.
I get bogged down in the tri cities of Florence, Muscle Shoals, and Sheffield
which is really one big city. I get lost and notice a fire department
engine company out on a inspection. I pull in and my brother firefighters
get me straightened out.
I switch over to SR 17, and make way for Tennessee.
I notice a old beat up truck coming out of store parking lot and slow down in
anticipation of the vehicle pulling out. I am fooled, but better safe then
sorry.
SR 17 turns to SR 13 in Tennessee. The road is smooth and the traffic is
low. I had a great ride from here, and quickly find myself getting on the
Natchez Trace Parkway.
I exit the Parkway in Collingswood for Mountain Dew and beef jerky. I
called Phil and announce my whereabouts. He says he will ride south to
meet me and take me to his house in Nashville.
Downtown
Collingswood, Tennessee
I get back on the Parkway and ride north.
A sign notes it is 100 miles to Nashville.
It is late afternoon now, and the shadows begin to grow long. The Natchez
reminds me of the Blue Ridge without the mountains. It is smooth and void
of traffic. I ride by rolling farmland and woods.
The leaves are just starting to turn, and it gets my juices flowing for the
sights to follow when I get further north.
I pass a few cars but keep my speed in the 50 mph range, and I really have no
desire to ride any faster. I want to savor the afternoon and the sights.
Mile Marker 374 on the Natchez Trace Parkway-north bound
I spot a old barn and stop to take a few pics.
Sixty miles later I spot a fully loaded red ST heading south. Has to be
Phil. I slow down pull off while he makes a U turn to come back to me.
Right away I notice a difference in philosophy. Phil has TWO fully loaded
river bags strapped to his seat and top case. From the compression of his
rear end I guess him to be carrying 150 lbs of gear. His saddlebags are
also stuffed full. Top case fully loaded also. On the other hand I
carry 35 lbs loaded in Helen 2 Wheel bags. My saddlebags still have space
remaining. Phil's thinking if I think I might need it, bring it, mine is
unless its essential leave it. Neither point is wrong, just different.
Phil leads the way north up the Parkway to Nashville. Only the top of his
helmet is visible over the gear strapped on his bike. I will get well
acquainted with the rear of Phil's bike over the next 4,000 miles. His
bags are high viz yellow and orange, and have a hypnotizing effect.
I see his brake lights light up and we slow down to let 5-6 turkeys cross the
road.
The Trace gets a little curvy and we get in a few leans. The scenery is
great. I spot 2 deer well off the road and they are no threat.
All too soon we exit the Trace and make our way to Phil's home. I follow
him down dips and hollows and before turning in his driveway. It was a
great ride on the Trace. I recommend it to anyone when in the area.
We park in the garage and amble in. He introduces me to his lovely wife
and shows me the guess room. I throw my stuff on the bed, and take a shower.
I rode 346 miles today.
Supper is a home cooked meal of roast and veggies, it was very good. I
relish every bite as I know it will be the last home cooked meal for a few days.
After supper we spend the evening in Phil's study talking about the upcoming
trip. We confirm our plan to make Northern Indiana the next day.
I went to bed with my Sony player and headphones, listening a local soft rock
station before drifting off to sleep.
