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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Day 7 A good nights sleep came to an end at 7:00 am local time. It was still dark outside when I poked out of the tent. I looked to Peter's site, it was empty. "Well dayum, Peter is already on the road? He musta headed outta here like he had important stuff goin on up in State College. I'll call him later this week." It was cold, and sunny. I went to the gauge on the RT to note it was 32 degrees. The RTs ambient temp gauge is 4-5 degrees to the low side, but 37 was still plenty chilly enough. I went to the wash room to wash my face, and brush my teeth. I ran into Mike Gregory on the way out. "Good ridin with ya bro, we'll do it again." "For sure have a good ride back to Alabama." I made it back to the tent site and began striking camp. I'd been here 3 nights, in that span of time you have a tendency to collect "stuff." I saw Ron Epperly's bike outside his cabin, but no Ron. "Noway he's up this early." After years of shift work Ron is the worst morning person on record. He had a few more days off, and was riding north today. He wasn't going back Orlando till Thursday. After packing and loading the RT I got out the atlas to make a few notes. Not that I needed them, because the route home today, would be the same as the previous 5 years. Today would mark my 6th. "I guess I should look for something different, but this route is fun, and it takes me around Atlanta if I go due south, and avoids Chattanooga if I go west." I know the roads when I see them, but can't remember the route numbers, so I jotted them down and stuck them on my arm. Charlie and Mike came to tell me good bye, great guys to be around. I wished them a safe ride and fired the RT up for the last long ride of the season. I ride most everyday in the winter, but I don't have any more tours planned till next March's Texas ride. Out the narrow driveway and across the bridge I left the campground. I made a right on US 276 to Waynesville. A black snowflake was flashing in the BMW's instrument cluster to remind me it was cold and too look out for black ice. No kidding, the Germans try to think of everything. A bright blue sky shined the way across the valley as I moved through the cold air. I turned the heated grips and seat on to full, and brought the screen up to deflect the wind. Yes, the RT is pricey, but if you put down a lot of miles, you have to give it a serious look. It is so comfortable and sporty. After leaning like a drunk for 3 days, it was going to take me home on a mixture of mountain roads, routine highways, urban areas, and expressways. The RT has the sweetest riding position in sport touring. Upright and down in the cockpit. The grips are swept back to the rider, and the foot and arm position work really well for me. There are guys that spend a lot of money and time to copy it on other bikes, but nothing works like the real thing. My 1300 is comfortable, I ride it well, but I have to say the RT is just a notch better. I think the Japanese design a great bike, then place the rider on it, whereas the Germans designed the RT around the rider. That is not to say I don't miss the Honda after a long tour on the RT. I do, the first thing I crave to get back to is that lovely V4 motor. I went past the Jukebox Junction, quiet now on this Sunday morning. I'm growing very fond of this area.
Waynesville is like most Blue Ridge towns on a Sunday morning, preparing for Sunday worship. Church parking lots were beginning to fill when I came through. I left the city on US 74. I ran into fog in the usual places, but nothing serious. By now the heated seat and grips felt really good, and made all the difference on this cold morning. Despite the glowing sun the temp was still below 40. For the first time in days I moved the ESA to normal and brought the screen up to shift the cold air around me. The ride to the Gorge was quiet and uplifting, I was not looking forward to the 20 miles through the canyon to the valley on the other side. In the Gorge I passed 3 separate cars and was able to dispatch the area rather quickly. I was happy when I emerged back into the sunshine on the other side. By now my butt felt like it was sitting on a hot plate. I passed through Murphy and turned left on Spur 60 and went into Georgia. I was coming down out of the hills now and past experience taught me the temp would warm up quickly, as I moved south through the countryside. Every year I try to notice something different along the way, like the house with the red trim near the state line has a new truck in the yard. The RT chugged along the quiet Georgia country and all was good. Soon I'd be home with my wife, and another great touring season would be in the books.
I turned the heated equipment off in the warm air and sun of Georgia. In Mineral Bluff I swung down to US 76 and SR 2. I was beginning to see lots of motorcycles, the weather was perfect and many were taking advantage of it. I was in the last pieces of the Appalachians as the mountains give way to Georgia Evergreens and timberlands. After 150 miles I took my first break of the day in Elljay, at a BP con store across the street from the McDonalds I stopped at last year. The annual Apple Festival was taking place and traffic was thicker than usual, including a large number of Harley's. I had a PB and J sandwich and washed it down with Diet Dew. It had been a good ride so far. A car came to the pumps and a small dog inside took notice of me. I didn't know if the red RT had his attention or I. He perked up in the seat and watched intently, and studied every move.
From Elljay I went south to SR 5 and turned right on SR 53, a road with a few twists as it traverses across a few low spots. I know the road, and bumped the ESA to sport to get in a few more leans. SR 53 tacks into US 411 at Fairmont, where I turned for points south. The ride gets a little more crowded through here, but still good. As I motored through the rural Georgia countryside I was feeling almost overwhelmed at my life experiences since retirement. Last year I came through here, not really sure when to pull the trigger, and the ying and yang of the decision was annoying me. But now the deed is done, and the freedom I live everyday is something I treasure, and never take for granted. I went by a old, narrow farm road, that looked interesting, so I doubled back to it. The road was paved as it sprouted into a thick tree thicket. I wished to see it where it might lead, so I followed it. A few miles later it went across an old bridge over a older creek. I pulled the RT to the side and removed my helmet and ear plugs.
It was quiet as I stood on the edge of the bridge checking the water moving slowly under me. A bird of some kind made a call, and another answered from a tree across the small road. A bush rustled to my left and it startled me, I couldn't see what was in it, but something was definitely moving around, when all of a sudden a Armadillo popped out. He sniffed me out and ran back for cover. The Armadillo was named by the conquistadors, meaning "little armored one." Thirty years ago they were unheard off in Alabama, but they slowly made their way east from Texas, and multiplied like rabbits. Thousands are taken out each day by cars as they scour the shoulder for the dead bugs that can be found there. I didn't know all that at the time, but the close encounter on this day, was a good enough reason for a Google search later. I hung around the old bridge for 20 minutes, and didn't see a single car. Soon enough I was back on US 411 and on the way to Cartersville and another route change to SR 61. Cartersville was hosting a fall street festival as the RT came through town. I went over the railroad tracks and followed the signs to Dallas. The area is not far from the Atlanta Metro and suburbia is starting to arrive in what use to be a relative quiet place. I've wrote about this ride so many times, there is not really much more detail I can add. I did pass a few Harleys and a BMW cruiser near Carrolton. South of the city I stopped at a Waffle House for lunch. I called home and told Debbie my whereabouts, and would soon be home. I thought back to yesterday on the Skyway, what a great ride that was. I forgot to mention on the Day 6 journal, Ron Epperly caught me when I almost tipped over. We had just pulled in the scenic vista when I kicked out the stand, apparently it wasn't far enough and the stand snapped back up, only I didn't know it. I leaned the bike and nothing but air, and it looked as if I was going to ease it down, but Ron Epperly had just came in beside me, and his big arm grabbed the luggage rack, allowing me to correct things. It wasn't going down hard, but I'm sure his quick thinking saved some scratches. Thank goodness for friends. In Carrollton I checked over to US 27 south and headed toward La Grange. I've made this ride 5 times on the Hondas, and their reserve lights fired off somewhere in this area. The 1300 has a slightly bigger tank than the RT and the 1100. The RT still had one bar showing before reserve, and carries a half gallon less than the 1300. I've never bought a bike based on mpg but the RTs miserly ways with fuel is a nice extra. It almost always returns over 50 mpg. I was surprised the day had not warmed up more than it had. Temp was in the low 70s. Usually its well into the 80s this time of day. The drivers in La Grange are myopic. They seem lost and dangerous. A lady left a gas station, then cut me off for no good reason. I went to a con store near I-85 to fill up. From here I have a 2 hour ride home, about 120 miles. I wanted to ride it non stop. After filling up I was on I-85 and in the last 100 miles of the riding season. What a great year it had been. I thought about all the good times over the last few months as I cruised home. I had the cruise set, screen up and the shocks on comfort. After all the back road riding it was time for a little slabbing. Something the RT is really good at, but I'm not. I don't have the patience for it. I crossed the Chattahochee River and was back in Alabama at 3:11pm. From there it was a quick ride through Lee and Macon Counties into the Montgomery City Limits. I sped through the city and took I-65 North to Prattville. Traffic was light. At the 179 exit I left the interstate and came through East Prattville. I waved at a motorcycle patrolman near Wal Mart. It had been a great ride, and a fitting way to close out the season. A few minutes later I slipped down the driveway and parked next to the 1300 dropping the stand after a 411 mile day, and 2,547 for the trip. I said a prayer for my safe return, and Debbie came out to greet me. I was home, not just from this tour, but all the tours of the past season. I was looking forward to the down time. I plan to delve hard into training, update my web site, go to the beach, and have some great holidays. An hour after my return I was unpacked and out running 4 miles. My leg was still a little stiff but at least I was running. We went out to eat at Longhorns. At supper Debbie asked, " So what was your best memory from this year?" "I dunno baby, saw so much. I'd hafta to say riding in the UK and meeting those great folks." As far as just riding I'd say riding across Colorado that day, but then again it might be Lolo Pass." "So where ya goin next?" "Prolly South Texas in March sometime. Not sure yet." "But for the next 5 months ya gonna be home with me every night?" "Yesssssssss, but that can be a good thing or bad thing can it not?" "Not going there, so eat up, the movie starts soon."
Epilogue The next few days were quiet. I stored my camping gear and put things away till next spring. I washed and cleaned the RT. For the next few weeks I primarily rode the Honda. Fall is my favorite time of year around here, and and I was still putting in a lot of miles riding the local roads I love so much. Several days I just went out riding with no place to go. The weather in October was really good and I enjoyed each day. I received an email from Andray noting the downed rider from HSTA was still in the hospital. I don't know his name. All the riders in my group made it home safe and sound, and all mentioned what a good time they enjoyed. Uncle Phil was feeling better a few days later. Hard to keep that joker down very long. On November 11th Debbie and I departed for Destin, Florida (in the Accord) and spent 6 days at the beach. I spent time in the sun, shopping with my wife, eating out, and watching football. It was great. I fulfilled my promise to spend time with her when touring season was over. Comments about this ride? Any ride? Let me know your favorite and why you liked it. You can let me know your least also, like we all know some rides are better than others. firfytr@aol.com
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