For a few years now, I have told my mom that I will make it down to see her (she lives in Jacksonville, FL) for Mother's Day. Melissa squirreled a little extra money away to allow me to go this year. It helped she had a full week of OT the previous week.
I was ecstatic! Mom is an awesome person (of course, I am biased a bit).
I saw Mom last year when she came up for a couple days, but outside of that it's only been phone calls for the last five years. While I am grateful that we at least have that, there is nothing like being together.
I have a buddy that lives near Atlanta that came to the Leaf Peep last year. It isn't "on the way", but I will be on the bike, so what's a few extra philometers between friends?
Besides that, his dad was going to be visiting from Alaska. His dad is pretty cool old dude. I had met him seven? years ago and hadn't seen him since.
The forecast was not favorable for riding, but it sure would be cheaper than taking a cage. I opted for the KLR since the Bandit has a brand new rear tire and I didn't want to burn it up on the interstate. The KLR tires are half the cost of the Bandit's.
Melissa got home around 4. I had the bike packed all I had to do was touch base with her for a couple minutes, suit up, and go -- the tank was even full.
It was overcast and spittin' rain until I hit the NC state line. While the clouds remained, there were spots where the orb of the sun permeated them. As I neared Waynesville, the sky opened up and an aggressive downpour ensued. It is cats-and-dogs rain -- visibility was quite hampered forcing me to back my speed down to about 30 mph. Fun stuff!
After about 10 miles of this crap, I noticed that I was losing my directions. Water had seeped under the tape. Coupled with the wind, the directions were peeling off. I held them in place with my left hand until I found a parking lot to pull into.
I attempted to re-tape them to the tank. Trying to secure tape to wet tank, is rather pointless. I managed to make it stick to itself and with a few layers, I got it to stick as good as it likely was going to.
Luckily, the rain let up a little bit before I reached Clayton, GA. I stopped there to gas up and noticed an ABC liquor store. I stopped figuring I could grab some beer and ice it, that way it should be cold by the time I reached Brian's. I'm glad I did because they had Westbrook's IPA -- Christopher McConnell turned me onto that at one of Mo's wrenchfests a couple years ago and I hadn't seen it since.
Around Tallulah Falls area I noticed a couple roadside signs advertising for a BBQ joint ahead that offered craft beer. Well I'm hungry and a bit curious what they call craft beer, so I stop in. Craft beer? we shall see!
Once I get off the bike, there were some kids eating on the (covered) patio and asked me "You rode that in the rain?" Heh. I replied that it happens sometimes.
After perusing the menu, I realized they had three beers that I would put in the "craft" category -- just enough to advertise it, I guess. They also had Heineken and Blue Moon, but I don't consider them craft. Anyway, they had Hopsectioner, which is a solid IPA and I like it so ordered one with some pulled pork and baked beans.
The beer was better than the food. The food wasn't bad, but this is the south, and BBQ can be a big deal. The server was real cool, though, and she filled my cooler with ice for no charge.
I got back on the road and the rain had subsided. There were even gray spots on the asphalt where the car tire tracks had been.
When I asked Brian about a good bottle shop, he reommended one over in Stone Mountain -- about 10 miles from his house called the Smoke Rise Bottle Shop. I walked around drooling for about 20 minutes, talking beers with one of the stock guys, made my purchases, and headed on to Brian's.
We sampled some good beers and enjoyed each other's company until he said it was 2:30 AM. WOW! where does the time go?
So we shut down for the night. He offered me an air mattress or I could have the couch. The couch wasn't long enough for me, so I told him I would just crash on the floor. He wanted to blow up the air mattress, but I told him the floor would likely be better on my back. I slept like a rock.
I awoke moments before his cuckoo clock chirped 6 times. I never heard it go off at 3, 4, nor 5. I closed my eyes, but sleep didn't come, so I got up. Brian laid in bed until near 11 and claimed he hadn't drank that much or stayed up that late in a while. Yeah, since the last time I was here. ; )
I noticed that my chain looked a little slack, and Brian and his dad love tinkering in the garage, so we adjusted it. While adjusting, Brian noticed my tire looked a little low. We checked and, sure enough, it was, so we brought it up to 32 psi. His dad asked me to check the oil. I did and it was above the add mark, but not by much, so I added oil, too.
Brian's stable of bikes is mostly old Euro stuff. He has three Triumphs, a BMW, a Harley, and a two stroke 500cc triple Kawasaki. He has been telling me I need to ride the triple ever since he got it.
I obliged! that thing is crazy. What a hoot! When that thing decides it's ready to go, you BETTER be hanging on.
He took a picture of me as I approached his driveway and posted it to Facebook. You can view it by clicking
if you wish.
It came to the point where I needed to hit the road. I always leave the bike in first gear and start it in gear. I put the kickstand up, pulled the clutch lever in, and hit the start button. The damn bike lurched forward. WTF?
Not sure what caused it to all of a sudden come out of adjustment -- especially THAT much! We adjusted it. That done, I mounted up, and Brian told me to wait. The chain had NO slack once my 200 pound frame was on it. So we had to RE-adjust chain.
I finally got on the road. Googlemaps routed me through Atlanta and I-75 all the way to Florida. I *hate* driving through Atlanta traffic. I get into the downtown area and sure enough ... UGH! parking lot! It took about 10 minutes to go a mile.
I am rolling again and around certain trucks the bike is "wiggling" some. I chalked this up to wind buffeting as it only did it around certain trucks and settled once I got past it.
When I got to Macon, I could have taken I-16 over to I-95 or I-75 like Google suggested. The sky looked clearer to the south than it was to the southeast, so I opted for 75.
Around Tifton, I think it was, I stopped at a rest area as the sky ahead had turned dark. I grabbed a sugar-loaded, crusty, likely out-of-date cinnamon roll, donned my rain gear, and did a tire pressure check. It was still holding at 32 psi.
I am now south of Valdosta. While passing a truck, once again the bike began to "wiggle". Although, this time it was a significantly more pronounced yaw. It's not a tank-slapper thing as the bars are straight and unaffected, but it was just as interesting. The bike is just see-sawwing.
I let the bike slow (not drastically) and the wiggle stopped for a second. Now at 50 mph, it started again. I am no longer in a wind buffeting zone. I pull to the shoulder and hear the trademark sound of a flat tire.
Wonderful! There is nothing I can do on the side of the interstate, so I limp it 2 miles at 10 mph muscling that thing.
I pulled into the first gas station (a Shell) and headed straight for the air compressor. The air compressor isn't going to help me as the bead has broke. Worse yet, the tube is done as well.
Great! it's 6 PM on a Saturday night in BFE (technically Lake Park, GA -- 5 miles from the FL state line). I went in and asked the guy behind the counter if there were any motorcycle shops anywhere nearby. He tells me I "picked" a bad place to have issues.
Picked? PICKED?!?! You're right dude, I chose to wait until after any bike shop would be closed and break down in an area that has none any-fuckin'-how! I somehow kept from saying that and then asked if there was a pay phone anywhere close and nearly got laughed at. YIPPEE!
The guy offered me some business cards of 24 hour roadside tire services. I also looked in the phone book and grabbed a couple more numbers. Now I have to find a phone.
The guy behind the counter went on a paranoia dissertation about not letting anyone use his cell phone. I didn't even ask to use his, but he still went on. I guess it was a form of apology, or he was bored, or something, I don't know.
I walked over to the gas station across the street and asked about a pay phone. Nope! However, the younger clerk offered me the use of his cell phone.
I placed some calls, but none of the numbers I had did motorcycle tires. The clerk went through his stack of business cards, and produced one that said he could do it. He told me he was in the middle of a job and would call when finished.
So I waited ... and waited ... and waited. About 7:40 the young guy tells me he is leaving at 8 and that I should call him back. I do, and the tire guy says he will be here in about 45 minutes. 8:30 passes, as does 9, and 9:30. It's now 10:00 and still nothing. There was a Harley rider that had been hanging out in the parking lot messing with his LED light wiring in his trunk.
After a while he came over to chat and proceeds to tell me I have a flat. WOW! once again, I showed restraint.
The guy was aces though -- really a salt-of-the-Earth guy. He starts placing calls to friends to see if he could find someone with a trailer that could get me and my bike to his place. He had to leave early in the AM to deliver a load (he was a truck driver). He told me if it weren't for that, he would drive me to Jacksonville himself because "seeing your mom is important".
Crazy! it's people like that that restore your faith in humanity.
While he is on the phone, the tire guy finally showed. Harley dude headed out on his way as it seemed I was in good hands. He told me if I could get to the next exit he wasn't far off the interstate, but never bothered to tell me exactly where.
Tire guy looks at it and sees the remains of a tube and acts like he didn't hear me tell him the tube was done. However, it's a tubeless tire, so he attempts to work with it. He fights it for about 2 hours and the bead will not seat -- not even ether helped.
He says he can go to the next exit and use the tire machine there. He came back and the tire was still not seated. He said he put 150 psi to it and it still wouldn't seat. He said tomorrow he can try to find a tire or a tube, so I am stuck for the night! Before leaving, the guy let me use his phone to call Melissa and let her know what was going on.
The only hotel in sight is Hampton Inn. This is waaaayyy out of my budget, so I figure I will move the bike to the back of the parking lot and hope a cop don't mess with me.
Outside that crusty cinnamon roll at the rest stop, I hadn't eaten all day and it's after midnight by now. Next door is a 24 hour McDonald's and the lobby is also open 24 hours. I ordered a chicken sandwich and planned on going back to the bike and wash it down with a couple beers.
Then I noticed the strawberry cheese pie sign. That looked *good*! I ordered it.
By now, I already had the previous order, but I wait at the counter, and wait, and wait. There were three people (including manager) working.
With it likely being the only game in town open at that hour, it is a bit crowded. The guy taking orders continues to do so while someone else fills and dispenses them. After about three others had gotten their food, the manager (who was filling orders) asked what I was waiting on. I told her only to hear "We don't have any of those" I replied that that was "just wrong"!
She tried to offer me anything else. I didn't want anything else. I wanted that strawberry cheese pie and requested my money back.
She tells me it would take eight minutes to make one up. I tell her I ain't goin' anywhere!
So she put two in for me -- for the "inconvenience". I sat down and ate my sandwich. I'm not a big McDonald's fan, but I am here to say their habanero ranch sauce is the bomb!
She gives me my pies and apologizes again. I thank her and head over to the bike. I took the first bite and OH.MY.GOD!!! it was like crack!! soooo good -- especially hot out of the oven like that! I burned the roof of my mouth, but didn't care.
I reached in the side bag and pulled out a beer to wash it down; then had another. As I was getting the third, I must've disturbed the center of gravity enough that the bike tipped off the kickstand and over on it's left side.
GRR! that was it! I have had it! frustration doesn't BEGIN to explain it.
I held my arms up, looked to the sky, and asked, "WHAT ELSE DO YOU HAVE FOR ME TODAY?!?!" The nerve of me! Having a tire go flat at 50 mph and safely navigating it without endangering my safety or anyone else's earlier and I have the nerve to question something that petty!
I set the beer down and try to lift up the bike. I have dropped the KLR a few times before on the trail, so lifting that heavy pig isn't a big deal. Yet, never tried it with a flat rear tire. I had to exert a little more effort than I normally would. It is at least 75* and muggy. I am drenched in sweat.
Yeah a beer was needed! I hate to say I "need" a beer because I am not dependent on it, but at that moment ..... I think I did!
While sippin' it down, I noticed a sign for a Travelodge on the other side of the Cracker Barrel. I am smelly and tired, well, exhausted, so walk over and the lady behind the desk gives me an absolute bottom price of $55.
I want a shower ... badly! and $55 isn't a bad price for a room nowadays, despite the fact that I really cannot afford it. I go ahead and get it, grab a shower and finish off the last three beers I had (for this trip -- in GA I picked up some to take home). It was about 4-something AM before my eyes shut.
Up at 8 and head back to the bike. I eat the other strawberry cheese pie for breakfast. It's MUCH better piping hot, but still not bad. I go into the Shell and the two guys that were working at the other gas station the previous night were there. Apparently, they own both stations.
The older guy kept giving me the stare down. I guess he didn't trust this long-haired hyppie-looking mofo! I spent the day outside awaiting the tire guy to show.
About noon, I give up, go inside, and peruse the yellow pages again looking for Enterprise rental (they will pick me up) thinking I can rent a pickup truck. No Enterprise, as a matter-of-fact, no car rental places listed. Okay U-haul ... nope, no moving rental places listed either except the 1-800 number for Hertz. Great!
So then it hits me if I could put a call to Melissa, I could have her put a note on the Sabmag facebook page for me. I find a trucker filling up, explain the situation, and ask if I could use his cell phone to call my wife. He allows me to and Melissa tells me this tire guy wants her to wire him $90 so he can drive to Ocala, FL to get a tire from some guy who will open the store for him to sell him a tire for me.
Screw that! I paid him that same amount last night, so he had cash to cover it up front. I told her it sounded like he was trying to rip her off and told her he can come talk to me or go to hell! (yeah patience had worn thin by now)
The cell phone paranoia guy (from yesterday) shows up for his shift and asks what the latest is. I tell him that the tire guy showed but we couldn't get it done. I may have help coming but have no way of knowing.
Before he goes on in he asks if I have eaten. I told him there is McD's next door and others within walking distance. Nice guy!
Later, when a biker comes in, he asks the guy come talk to me. This guy tells me of a bike shop about 15 miles up the road that will be open on Monday and could probably pick me up, so worst case scenario is I can be rolling by Monday, but seeing Mom is out on this trip.
After a bit, the owner (the one who was giving me the nasty eye) comes out. It's about to pour as the sunny sky had given way to black clouds. I tell him I have nothing new to report and he heads inside.
A couple minutes later, paranoid guy comes back out and tells me it's going to rain (this guy is good with the obvious!). He reaches into his wallet pulls out a hundred dollar bill, tells me there are hotels over there, go get you a room, get on the phone, call your people, and get something done -- this is NOT a loan! it's a pay it forward deal.
As I walked back to the bike, my eyes welled up. I am not all that emotional but I was overcome with emotion and began to cry a little -- just overwhelmed.
I get a room and the sky opened up -- what timing! I call Melissa and she tells me that Curtis Cavanaugh is en route (from Atlanta area -- 4 hours away). I felt so relieved! Amazing!
I like Curtis, so am glad it is someone I know and like, but ... WOW! that's 4 hours one way!! Not only that, Melissa said he was planning to drive me home. which is an additional 4 hours in the opposite direction of his house. WHAT A GUY!
There's no way I will allow him to do that. That would be 12 hours of driving if he drove me home and 16 if he went back home AFTERwards!
After getting off the phone, I go to the front desk clerk only to realize I cannot get money back. I had been in the room 10 minutes and only used the phone. The clerk explains it is policy and out of his hands, yet calls his manager. The manager confirms what the clerk said.
GAH! I almost kept their card key and when they mailed me about it I would've told them that it would cost the price of a refund. ; )
I go back over to the Shell, thank paranoid guy who gave me the money and tell him help is on the way. We chat for a bit and then Curtis pulls into the parking lot at about 30 mph rubber-necking looking for my dumbass! I say good-bye to the guy and go see Curtis. This whole time the owner has been once-again giving me an eye! I won't miss him!
We got the bike loaded, which with a flat rear tire, was *much* easier than I thought it was going to be, got it tied down, and headed north. Curtis is a leadfoot! he has a 350 in that truck and believes in using each cubic inch of it! ; )
As we pulled into his town, I asked if we could hit a beer store. He said that was already in the plans.
Sadly, the store he had in mind was closed by 10 PM on a Sunday night. Kroger was next door so we head in and find there is still two minutes of "selling hours" left.
We take a brisk pace across the store, grab the first thing that looked good and rush to the self-service checkout. I got it scanned in time, but we had to wait on the clerk to check my ID. By the time she entered my birthdate, it was too late. Ugh!
I had a couple beers I was planning to take home, but they would be drank now instead. We got back to his house, and pull the wheel so all we have to do is put it in the truck in the morning.
We jumped online and checked our options. I figured we would either get a tire, tube, or I would leave it, take a bus home, and come get it another day. Tires were a bit out of budget, but a tube wouldn't be.
During our research, we found that I could get a bus ticket online for $13 that would leave Marietta (near his work) at 7 AM. Cool! Then the Greyhound site didn't allow you to buy the ticket. Okay we will show up at 630 AM and buy the more expensive ticket at $40 (still cheaper than a tire).
We then hung out for a bit and shared a couple beers. It was now 12:30 AM and we were leaving at 5:45 AM, so it was bedtime.
We got to the bus station only to find that it was closed and wouldn't open until 9. WTF?!? Man! we could've slept longer had we known *that*! What an inefficient-run operation!
So we hit a McD's to usurp their free wi-fi. We find that there is a bus leaving Atlanta for Knoxville at 2 PM. We decide to go back to his house and do some more online searching for tires/tubes.
No one opens until 10 AM, so we sat around twiddling thumbs for a couple hours. We tried Cycle Gear first (as they are the NAPA of motorcycle shops -- you may pay more, but they will likely have it in stock). I found a tube and they mounted it. The guy asked what happened to the tube and I told him.
Apparently, the tire guy in GA had tried to inflate and seat the bead using the valve stem from the busted tube rather than affixing a tubeless valve stem -- it's no wonder the damn thing wouldn't seat! I was tired and wasn't paying attention -- that's my story anyway.
The guy at Cycle Gear aired up the tube, and even balanced the tire. At checkout, he only charged me for the tube, no labor.
We head back to Curtis' house and remount the wheel. Of course, I put the wheel on and then realize I had forgotten to put the chain on the sprocket. DOH! I'm not tired, nope ... not at all!
Curtis points me to I-75. It's about noon by now so I pull into Arby's for some food and to figure out a game plan as it is too pretty to slab it all the way home. I opted for US 411 to GA-136 to GA-368? which would take me to GA-5. 136 and 368 looked real curvy on the map but turned out to be less so. It was still better than slab!
I stopped in Blue Ridge, GA for some caffeine as I felt the "sleepys" setting in. Then it's on to TN-68 and a stop at Hunt's Lodge, only to find no one there. I will need gas before I get home, so I stop and get $10 worth. I am dog-tired and fighting to stay awake. Some stretching and a bit of sugar and am off.
I take TN-360 to US 411 on home. As I approached Sevierville, the sky was black and the mountain tops were ate up by clouds.
SHIT! I been dry all day and I am going to get drenched the last 20 miles! However, I managed to get home completely dry. It was sooo good to be back home.
Again, a big, big thanks to Curtis, for going waaay above and beyond. While at it props to Harley dude for trying to help, and paranoid guy as well.
I am truly blessed to have people like that show up at such a trying time.
