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
October 5th, 2008
Prattville, Alabama

Debbie burst up and shook me, "Guy! You better get up, its 8am!"  "Dang!"  I grunted as I jerked up out of bed.  "I shoulda been on the road a hour ago!"  How I overslept I don't know.  I can see a guy doing that if he has to go to work, but leaving for a trip?

I packed and loaded the Honda yesterday, so had none of that to do, just needed to dress and ride.  But soon I realized something else;  "Have you seen my Blackberry?"  "No I haven't, last time I saw it was at Mass last night.  It was on the pew." "Dang, I bet that is where I left it."  It had to be because I couldn't find it anywhere in the house.  I called it a few times, knowing it would do little good, because I had the unit on vibrate, but I had to try.

The 8am Mass does not dismiss till 9am, so I'd have to hang around the house for another hour to go to the church to see if anyone had turned it in.  I was confident if it was there it had been, but then the question of where they put it will come up. "I'll go back to the church to look for it, if I find it I'll call ya, if not I'll come back here and take your phone."  It was all I could do, I can't be without a phone on a long tour.

At 9am I made the short ride to our parish and parked at the curb, sure enough the service was just letting out.  I went to the sacristy and there was my phone on the table with forgotten books, hats, and children toys.  What a relief.  Debbie's phone would've worked, but I'd be without all my numbers.

I spoke to a few friends, who asked where I was going and wished me a safe trip.  It was almost 9:30 before I found myself making the short ride north on U.S. 31 North to I-65.  "Man this is bad, I have a long ride today, and a very late start.  Oh well, only thing to do is play the hand out."

My goal for this day was a state park in Central Indiana.   No real purpose for me to go to Indiana other than I needed to set up the next 2 days ride across Ohio and West Virginia, and to do that I needed to start in Indiana. 

The weather was perfect, warm and partly cloudy.  I had on summer gloves and the Roadcrafter was vented out.

I felt lost without my GPS, I had no feedback coming back to me, and I didn't know what to think of that.  I kept looking down at the blank spot where it was suppose to be.  I sped north to Birmingham on I-65 thinking about how I was going to handle the trip without it.

I was 30 miles into a full tank when I left, but I skipped topping off because I was anxious to get on the road.  I was way behind and needed to put some miles down.  "As much as I hate to do it, I'm not stopping till I need gas."  My guess that wouldn't come to somewhere north of Nashville.

Birmingham came and went, I needed no GPS to get through the city, I can do it blindfolded.  I had 3 major cosmopolitans to pass through on this day.  The first two, Birmingham and Nashville, would not be a problem, but Louisville, Kentucky would be different.  My custom route leaves the interstate system just north of the city, and go to Central Indiana over a series of state and local roads.  I did something like this back in 2003 without any hang ups, so was confident I'd be able to do it again.

With a GPS I would have just quick routed to the start of my custom route, and relaxed.

The 1300 was running better than ever.  I chose the Honda for this tour, just because I was in the mood to ride it.  My last 2 long rides were on the RT, so I was looking forward to having the ST out.  The 1300 is very adept at this kind of long interstate drone with its smooth motor and compliant suspension, but it sorely needs a cruise control.  I've been asking this question for the last 8 years-"How do you make a touring bike without a cruise control?"  So far Honda has not been able to answer that.

I-65 carried me across the state line into Tennessee, and traffic picked up the closer I got to Nashville.  I got trapped behind a slow moving RV and 18 wheeler on a long uphill after crossing into Tennessee.

The reserve light came on at 220 miles, and I took exit 46 (Columbia) and came in for gas at a Texaco station.  I filled up the ST, and noticed a guy from Ohio filling up his white SUV.  He took the nozzle out of the tank, popped the hatch, and proceeded to fill up 2 10 gallon containers.   I hollered out to him, "Man that's dangerous!"  "I gotta be sure I don't run outta gas."  "Yeah but you're a mobile Molotov cocktail, you'd be better off to leave those things at a friend's house and call him if ya run out."  He ignored my warning and drove off.  Some people are just too dumb.

After gassing up I went across the street to a well staffed Waffle House for a grilled chicken dinner.  It wasn't anything special but it served the purpose.  I put in a few notes and called home to report my whereabouts.  When I returned to the road a HD got on the entrance ramp right behind me, but when I accelerated to cruising speeds he had no hope of keeping up.

I had to get back on the road to make up for lost time.  Because I wasn't able to charge my phone last night, it was only on 1 bar.  "I'll see about that tonight, I just need it to make it the rest of the day."

I used I-440 (outside loop) to bust through Nashville.  I wasn't sure where the Titans were playing today, and didn't want to risk running through the center of the city and getting tied up in ballgame traffic, as a result I took the longer but more open by pass.

North of the city I went back to I-65, and hooked up with a 85 mph train.  The train ran for many miles, and I was kind of zoned out on auto pilot.  I was zapped out of it when I looked to my mirrors and saw a trooper behind me, lights flashing.  "Dang! Where'd he come from?!  I'm toast."  I moved over and he jetted right on by, the blood flow returned to my legs.  "I guess he's got somewhere else to go."

Riding north I passed several bare headed HD riders.  To each his own.  I could never take the wind and the noise even if I was inclined to do that.

The Corvette museum in Bowling Green looked like it was under some kind of construction when I came by.

The interstate miles were growing tedious and I wanted to be off the slab, but I needed the miles to get to my final destination, to set up the rest of the tour.

I took a butt break at Lebanon Junction.  I had a cookie and  drink.  The janitor was stuffing paper in the restroom trash can with non gloved hands, and I wondered how he did that.  My phone was now blinking, instead of one bar, and figured it was about to power off on its own.  I was just a few miles south of Louisville.

I checked my notes.  I was suppose to go to I-264, 64 loops over to U.S. 150.  It sounded good on paper but it was anything but.  Spoiled by the preciseness of GPS, I was going to have to navigate this the old fashioned way and I was out of practice at watching signs and exit ramps.  I went to 264 easy enough but things fell apart rather quickly after that.

I was looking for U.S. 150 but realized I had missed it when I found myself skirting near downtown Louisville.  "This isn't right, I'm not suppose to be here."  Then I found myself on I-71 heading toward Jeffersonville.  By now I knew I was in a mess.  I exited off the system, went to a bank parking lot, and got out my atlas.  Something I rarely had to do with my Zumo.  I was cussing Garmin in a tirade like fashion.  I was fit to be tied.

My atlas told me I had to go back through Louisville and then just look for the exit.  "I don't know how I missed it on the way in."  I was glad it was Sunday, which meant much less traffic.  I went back in, and 8 miles later found the correct exit and went to U.S. 150.  It dropped me off in a less then thriving part of the city.

I slid through urban sprawl and blight to SR 135.  It was not a pleasant afternoon in Louisville.  The mix up probably cost me 45 minutes.

In Martinsburg, I went to a Marathon station to fill the ST and discovered what would be a recurring problem on this tour; lack of anything higher then 89 octane. The 91 pumps were bagged off.  With no other choice I filled the 91 required ST with what was available.  I've done it before out west with no repercussions, so I wasn't really worried.

Now comes some of the weirdest routing I'd ever put down.  I was due to go to SR 135 to Salem but was met with a detour sign and sent to back to U.S. 150.  I stayed on 150 to Paoli, and there was instructed to go to SR 56.  Which wasn't all that bad because the highway was a nice ride through farm and pasture land.

It was getting late now, and the white farm houses along the road became tinted in the soft glow of a afternoon sunset.  The road flowed along the contours of the land and the riding was good.  

I found this idyllic country church scene on SR 56.  It was 
a nice, late afternoon ride in rural Indiana.  The only pic
I took all day.

After the long detour I was in Salem and went to a  CVS parking lot to check things.  It was getting late and trying to find the local roads I had planned to ride without the Zumo was not going to be possible.  I got the atlas out to see about my options.  It was almost dark and the lights on the LED billboard sign overhead, flashing the daily specials and time, made it easy to see where I needed to go next.

"Well I reckon I'll just go SR 60 back to SR 37 to Bedford, which I shoulda done back when I came through Paoli.  Dang."   But I didn't know then what I knew now.

The road was dark as I went the 20 miles or so to Bedford.  Not much to report other then the traffic was kind of thick with weekenders trying to get back home.

Bedford is a medium sized city in the state.  It had a lot of traffic lights and a sizeable business district, but no signs for SR 58.  I took a side road that I thought would be it and found out I was wrong when I came to forsaken place called Dolitic.  Once again I cursed Garmin.  I went back the way I came and made another wrong turn.  Feeling exasperated I took out the atlas but not enough to detail to be of much help.  I wanted to ask somebody but I found myself surrounded by barred up shops and stores.  "I guess this ain't exactly the best part of town."

While sitting out a red light I looked up the road and saw the road to my left was SR 58.  There was no sign for that at the intersection, and the fact I was savvy enough to look left and right far down the road, was I able to find my route.  And that is the problem in places such as Bedford.  They drop the number for a local name.  SR 58 through Bedford was known something like 5th Street.

SR 58 was a dark, bending road past homes with long white rail fences.  The powerful lights of the ST 1300 supplemented by the PIAA 1100s lit up the yards and front porches of homes that sat facing the road as it made a hard turn left or right.  I was cautious of deer but saw none.

At the crossroads of SR 446 I made a left turn and knew I wasn't far from the park.  I can't tell much about the last 25 miles because I couldn't see anything but the lights of of a few houses.  I went over the long bridge across Monroe Lake and went into Paneytown State Park.

There is a long entrance to the park, but up ahead I could see the guard shack.  I was surprised to see it still manned at 9:30pm.  The ranger lady said, "it will be 5 dollars to get in, and 10 dollars to camp."  "An entrance fee and a camp fee?  Y'all don't waive the fee if a guy is gonna camp?"  "Well no."  "Ok put me someplace quiet."

She was a little passed middle aged but friendly enough.  She gave me a map on how to get to the campsite, but I didn't need it.

Paneytown is a nice park, and my spot was located by the lake under some thick trees.  I was the only guy in my section of the campground, but across the way were a couple of RVs and pull campers.

I ended the day with 621 miles.

Setting up my tent in the dark went better then expected, but only because of all the miles and experience doing it.

When I finished it was almost 10 pm.  It was then I realized I hadn't ate supper.  "Well not hungry anyway, I'll just skip it."  With the little power my Blackberry had left I called Debbie and reported I was done for the day, and was going for a shower shortly.

On the way to the shower house I stuck my phone on charge at a empty RV hook up.  I didn't worry about anybody bothering it.  No one else was around, and it was way too dark to see it.

The bathhouse was clean, lots of hot water, and good pressure.  You don't always find that in state parks.  On the way back to my tent I gathered my phone, the 30 minute charge had me back on 3 bars.

I squared my stuff away and zipped up.  Temps were dropping into the 50s, good sleeping weather.  I was happy to be on the road again, and enjoying the ride, I fell asleep quickly.

Next- lost in the cornfields, and through the Ohio Valley