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 21 I was up early with Uncle Phil, loading the 1300 for the last time this tour. In a few hours I'd be home and this great trip will go in the books. "I'll see ya in August when Freestyle and Joyce come through on their way back west." "ok sounds good, it was good seein ya." The time was 6:00 am, and on a Sunday, traffic was about as lean as its ever going to be in Nashville. I went out the long driveway from the Holler, and on Charlotte Pike Road heading to I-440. I didn't need notes in the window for this ride. I knew the way home. From 440 I connected to I-65 South and went on auto pilot on the smooth Tennessee asphalt. I cleared the city quickly, and soon was in rural south Tennessee. Two south bound mini vans with Michigan plates and loaded top racks were hammering on. No way were they getting better than 10 mpg with all that drag. Four deer were on the shoulder grazing near the SR 50 exit. They appeared oblivious to all the traffic shooting by. So many deer this tour, I don't know how I made it unscathed. I was looking forward to returning home, and resuming my life, doing the things I love that make it so much fun. My mind began to turn to my upcoming tour to Prince Edward Island and the VVV tour in September. By 8am I was back in Alabama, and in the final leg of this 9,000 mile tour. My plan was to make this morning's 300 mile ride with 2 stops. One for gas and a muffin ( had no bread for peanut butter and jelly), and the other a early lunch at the Waffle House at exit 246. (where I always stop) I noticed a Pamela Anderson billboard near Decatur. She was calling for a boycott of KFC because they abused chickens. I almost had a wreck laughing so hard. I mean how does SHE lend ANY credibility to a cause? And why would ANYBODY care about chickens you are going to eat? A chicken has NO idea if he's in a coop , a yard, or whatever, he's put on this earth for TWO things, to lay eggs and fry. We have troops in Iraq fighting and dying for us, and she's worried about chickens? Sufficiently amused for the day, I took the Athens exit and went in a con store for a muffin. I was out of bread, so no PB and J, but muffins work well. I was running this afternoon and needed to carb up. I scanned the headlines of the Birmingham paper to catch up on the news in Alabama while gone. Nothing new. I called Debbie, "Don't fix any lunch, I'll grab a bite in Pelham. I'll take ya out to eat tonight to celebrate my return, and then I want popcorn while I watch the latest DVD." "Well ok, I'll be looking for ya, be careful." A good reminder not to get lackluster because you're close to home. "Check and make sure the garage door is open for me, home in about 3 hours." When I loaded up I checked the gas gauge, "enough to get to the 246 exit." Back on the road I was heading south at a quick pace. In Alabama I've never had a problem running speed limit plus 10 on the interstates. If stopped I was going to plead, "In the last 100 miles of a 9,000 mile cross country ride, and smell the barn, don't hold me back." Through Morgan, Cullman, and Blount Counties I knocked the miles down. Places I knew well my entire adult life. Then it was Jefferson County and the City of Birmingham, that I use to think was a BIG place. Not far to go now. The reserve light began flashing but I ignored it and kept pressing. I had the screen trimmed down in the thick humid air of Alabama. I was trying to move some air through the vents of the Roadcrafter. I moved around slower traffic and stayed on I-65 South through the middle of the city. The pavement is irregular and it bounced me all over. I went "over the mountain," (a phrase used in Jefferson County to define the more affluent counties and cities of the south) and into the suburbs. A number of vehicles were making their way south to the beaches and the lake for the holiday. Exit 246, I-65. If you can't find it here, you don't need it. The exit has EVERYTHING. And to think I knew it when it was nothing more than 1 con store on a hill, the remaining area grass and meadows. Such simple times then. I pushed the Honda's flasher to the right and went down the ramp, through 2 red lights, and on the service road, to the old fashioned Waffle House, that greets me on my return from long tours. I found a booth by the window, and like most Waffle Houses, it was cold. A young blonde waitress, with her hair tied back with a brown bow, and a southern accent, came for my order. "Watcha gonna have darlin?" The accent sounds distinct after so many weeks of NOT hearing it. "Gimme the grilled chicken baby." After turning in my order, she came back, "is that suit fire proof?" "Well no, but it does everything else." I went on to tell her I had just returned from California. "My husband wants a crotch rocket, but tell me something." "Anything ya wanna know baby." "He takes a lot of chan-ces, everting he does." The words rolling off. "Then he doesn't need a motorcycle." "That's what I figgered, he can't git one cause his credit ain't no good, but I can, so he keeps buggin me." "Well baby, I've been walkin the planet almost 50 years, and know a few things. If he keeps buggin ya, there is ONE thing you have a complete monopoly on." She came back later and sat my chicken down. A truck driver came in, reminding me somewhat of Big Daddy in Kansas. "Good morning." A heavy set waitress wiping glasses shot back, "WHAT'S SO GOOD ABOUT IT?" Yep, I was back in Alabama, and always assured of some good entertainment. After lunch I went down the street and filled the tank for the last time this trip. I only had 60 miles go, so the 1300 will end the tour with almost a full tank. The last 60 miles home were good. I spent the time reflecting on the tour, and how I was going to spend the next few days, adjusting to life off the road. I was looking forward to the big BBQ at the lake the next day, and getting back on my bicycle, and of course, going to work on this journal. I took the U.S. 31 exit a few minutes after 11am and started the last few miles home. I patted the tank of this great motorcycle, that once again brought me home safe and sound with no issues. I veered off the highway to ride by Mr. Powell's farm. The corn looked good, and so did the cotton. A few minutes later I was turning in my neighborhood and making the last few blocks home. The garage door was up as instructed and I glided the 1300 past the Accord, and in the garage next to the 1100, and set the stand, completing 298 miles for the day, and 8,768 miles for the tour. A great ride. I said a prayer for my safe return before leaving the saddle. I came inside, "HEY BABY!! I'm HOME!" "YIPEEEE!" It was a nice reunion after 3 weeks, and it felt good to be home. Anxious to get back to normal, I soon unloaded the 1300 and Debbie had the washing machine going. She found my stash of Twizzlers and Tootsie rolls. "I though you were training?" "I am, a joker has to have some energy yanno." I sorted 3 weeks worth of mail, and later in the afternoon had a nice 4 mile run. It felt good. I made a quick post on the ST site I was home safe, and thanked everyone for their support. Without my fellow riders, it would not be near the fun. As promised we ate supper at Applebee's. I didn't tell anyone else I was home so as not to have field any phone calls in the evening. Nice to be home.
Epilogue Bogart BMW left a message my new 1200RT had delivered and was waiting for my inspection. On July 8th I traded the 1100 in on the new bike. We spent the 4th of July at Lake Martin with family. I had a great time and ate too much. But what the heck, I was celebrating a great tour and being home. I washed, waxed, and dropped the oil on the 1300 a few days after my return. I noticed no new rock chips etc. The bike came through the entire 9,000 miles without a ding or scratch. The next day I began the daunting task of sorting through the 300 pictures I took on this tour. If enough of y'all are interested I'll post a new photo album with some of the pics I was unable to use in the journal. If you have any suggestions for a theme song for the album, shoot me a email. I returned to training and began planning the ride to Prince Edward in September. I plan on riding the RT for that tour. I'm also looking forward to my annual fall ride to the Blue Ridge. On August 2nd I celebrated my 50th birthday, and I'm happy to report at the absolute pinnacle of my life. Physically and mentally I'm the best I've ever been. Not on any meds, and no ailments or pains. I feel better than I did at 25, I don't know why God has blessed me so much, I don't really deserve it. Thus ends this story of a fabulous cross country adventure. One of my favorites, and I hope y'all enjoyed reading about it. If you have any comments good or bad drop me a line:
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