BMW rally, catfish, red states (part 3)

(Monday, July 16)  I shot the gap at Cumberland, and streamed by Maynardville - but more on that later.

Yesterday evening I did online research on the BMW gear position potentiometer and discovered that sometimes reseating the connector and spraying WD-40 will fix the problem. In the morning I looked for the part on the bike and found it, but my big fingers couldn’t get a good grip on the connector and I didn’t have long, long-nosed pliers with me - and I also didn’t want to take a chance on breaking it with the tools I did have. However, when I started the bike first and second gears indicated correctly, leaving only neutral absent. 

It had rained overnight, and it was overcast and very humid when I left the motel and rode a mile north to Audubon State Park, where our family spent the better part of a summer back in 1960 or so. My father was working on a project in nearby Evansville, IN and we all stayed in an apartment above the park offices. (I think that my camera lens was misted over.)

Back on US 41 I followed the GPS to US 60 east, but first made a stop at a convenient Walmart to pick up a can of WD-40. I sprayed around the connector, but neutral was still missing in action. Later in the day neutral suddenly appeared again, and as of now it is on sometimes and sometimes not. 

I joined the Audubon Parkway west of Owensboro and followed it around that city and on the east side got off at US 54 which took me through Whitesville, Fordsville, and by the Falls of Rough (River), through Short Creek and into Leitchfield, where I went south on KY 259. The roads in the morning had been through farm country with rolling hills, gentle curves, little traffic, and lots of green, but on 259 on the west side of Mammoth Cave National Park the road became more twisty, the hills steeper, and with even fewer vehicles. I stopped at the Sportsman’s Grill in Brownsville for lunch (Mamaw’s meat loaf - the day’s special) and spent some time talking with the owner and a couple of customers. 259 ended at I-65 and I took the Louie B. Nunn Parkway 10 miles to Glasgow, where I went east on KY 90 through towns such as Willow Shade, Marrowbone, and Burkesville, more farmland, hills, and woods. In Monticello I rode southeast on KY 92 and found the best riding of the day, and even of the trip so far. There are farms and small towns along the road, as well as forests, but there are also many curves (marked from 20-45 mph), steep hills, and it was an invigorating ride. The towns along the road (such as Kidds Crossing, Pines Knot, Holly Hill, and Jellico Creek) are mostly very small, in a few of them the speed limit doesn’t even drop below 55, in others there might be a half mile of 45 mph. The ride through Daniel Boone National Forest was outstanding and I enjoyed every mile. The weather had been overcast in the morning, then sunny and warm in the early afternoon, and now it began clouding over again. I started off the day prepared for rain and finally outside of Williamsburg there was a 20 minute shower complete with lightning in the distance. 92 ends at 25E and I rode south on that road to Middlesboro where the rain began again just before Cumberland Gap Park and the tunnel under the gap. On the other side (in Tennessee) it was still raining, although not very hard and the rain gradually decreased until by the time I got to Maynardville on TN 33 it stopped altogether and there were just a few sprinkles after that. 

One of the reasons for choosing my route today was so I could ride on the roads and through a couple of the towns that are mentioned in the song, “The Ballad of Thunder Road” (Robert Mitchum, also the star of the movie Thunder Road (1958)):

Roaring out of Harlan; revvin’ up his mill.

He shot the gap at Cumberland and streamed by Maynardville.

With G men on his tail light; road block up ahead

The mountain boy took roads that even angels feared to tread. 

I was expecting 33 to be a small, back-country road like it probably was back in 1954, and it is still a two-lane road some of the time, but since it is the only road that goes into Knoxville from the Cumberland Gap area it has a fair amount of traffic. It also follows the Clinch River at the beginning and the road went by a large marina with luxury houseboats and sporting boats, and there were resort areas and vacation homes all along the road. A sign outside Maynardville proclaims that the town is the “Cradle of Country Music” but I never did see a proper town, or a cradle for that matter. TN 33 went by numerous chain businesses along the road through Maynardville, and the map indicated that there was a Main St. a short distance off the highway, so maybe that was it. Closer to Knoxville the road became four-lane for good and I also noticed several sheriff cars parked along the road looking for speeders - in fact I think that I saw more cops today than in all the previous 10 days. The song goes on to say:

Blazing right through Knoxville, out on Kingston Pike,

Then right outside of Bearden, they made the fatal strike.

He left the road at 90; that’s all there is to say,

The devil got the moonshine and the mountain boy that day.

Bearden is now part of west Knoxville, and the Kingston Pike goes through a residential neighborhood, so I didn’t feel obligated to follow the song through to the end. Before reaching Knoxville I went on I-40 east for 14 miles and then south on TN 66 to Sevierville (pronounced Severe-ville, I am told) where I am spending the night. The day was spent almost entirely on small, back country roads and what with the warm and humid weather, the rain,  and the time change, it feels like a very long day, although it was only 412 miles. 

(Tuesday, July 17) It was a splendid day up until the motel parking lot in the afternoon. The day began with an excellent breakfast at the motel, and although it had rained overnight, the sky was overcast but not raining. The humidity was about 99% however, and that made for some discomfort under my rain gear, which I was wearing because showers were predicted along my route later in the day. I went south on US 441 through the rest of Sevierville and then Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. If I had thought that Sevierville was tacky, the next two towns put it to shame. I appreciate the tackiness of the old tourist towns from the 1950s - there is a certain innocent charm to them. But these places are just gross; all along both sides of the highway are a constant stream of chain eateries, outlet stores, entertainment, water slides, amusement parks, Dollywood, Hatfields and McCoys Dinner Feud, a zip line, helicopter rides, and on and on. I suppose if I were 12 years old, I would think that it was heaven, but at my advanced age it is all just garish and brash and ugly with far too many people and cars, and way too much neon. Downtown Gatlinburg looks like it may once have been and interesting little town with stone buildings, but whatever charm remains looks to be manufactured. All of this excess goes right up to the entrance of Smoky Mountain National Park, and never was a park entrance so welcome. It is only about 30 miles through the park, and, although there are camping areas and a visitors’ center is is mostly just a drive-thru. After the squalor and madness of highway 441 the road through the park was almost serene, with moderate traffic and a good road. The highest point, New Found Gap, is at 5000 feet and up there it was a cool 65 degrees. The picture below was taken at a slightly lower elevation - you can see why they are called the Smoky Mountains.

Just after the south park entrance I turned onto the Blue Ridge Parkway and followed that road for 14 miles to Maggie Valley, SC. There was no traffic, the road was clear, and the weather was good - perfect riding. I’d planned to visit the Wheels Through Time museum in Maggie Valley, but found that it was closed on Tuesday and Wednesday. Not a big deal because I’d been there a few years ago and this time I’d just planned to stop for a break and see any new acquisitions. I stayed on US 19 east through Maggie Valley until it joined US 276 and stayed on that through Waynesville to NC 215 which goes south along the Pigeon River and through the Pisgah Wilderness Area. This is a steep and very twisty road with a broken road surface for part of the way, wet spots in the shade, gravel in the center of the lane, a few campgrounds and vacation cabins, Logan Lake, and the road provides a lot of fun if you keep your eyes open and your reflexes sharp. It crosses under the Blue Ridge Parkway at Beech Gap at almost 6000 feet before it descends and becomes US 178 at the South Carolina border. In Pickens I stopped for lunch at the Gateway Inn (the fried okra side was good) and called a BMW shop in Fredericksburg, VA to make arrangements for a new rear tire and a minor service next week. Continuing south on 178 to Anderson I went south on SC 28 through farm country and small towns to Augusta where I followed the GPS to my motel in Hephzibah. 

That nail has been waiting for years for me to ride over it.

Later in the afternoon I’d noticed that my tire pressure in the rear tire had dropped slightly (the bike has TPMS) and after I parked the bike and unloaded it I checked the tire and discovered a nail near the sidewall. I was annoyed but not too worried because I carry a plug kit and an electric air pump for just such circumstances, but the plug wouldn’t hold air - in fact I used several plugs - so I’m stuck here until I can get a tow to a BMW dealer for a new tire. AAA is ready to send a truck as soon as I find a dealer that has a tire and can make the time to put it on tomorrow. There are three dealers in the area, but the closest is in Greenville, SC 120 miles and 2 1/2 hours away. Wish me luck. (277)

(Wednesday, July 18) Predictably, almost the entire day was spent dealing with the tire. Right at nine, when the shop opens, I called Freedom Powersports in McDonough, GA (a little south and east of Atlanta) and asked about a tire. They had one in stock, a Michelin Pilot Road 4 (not the Road 5 that I would have preferred, but the 4 is what I’ve been riding on and it is fine) and they could install it as soon as I got there. I told them that I hoped by noon, and then I called AAA referencing the incident number that I’d given them yesterday. They said that they’d get right on it and the tow company would call to make arrangements. About an hour later the tow company (Chancey’s Towing) called and once we got the mixup resolved (they thought I was going to Charleston, SC) they said they’d be over shortly. They arrived at noon. A guy towing a tilt-down trailer behind. an old pickup truck and another guy following with tie-down straps that looked like they’d just been purchased. He insisted that he’d done this before, and he did seem to know what he was doing. So, I rode with Mike in the pickup and heard all about his kids, grandkids, dating experiences, etc. Really, he was a good guy and I could understand most of what he said - my Southern is rusty but getting better.

We arrived at the shop about 2:45 and the service manager helped me get the bike off the trailer and I said goodbye to Mike and we got the bike written up. I went next door to the Southern Cookhouse restaurant and had coffee and a meal - breakfast had been at 7 AM and consisted of Belvita crackers and coffee and I was hungry. In the restaurant I reserved a motel room for the night about 90 miles away in Unadilla, GA, and back at the shop I put the address in the GPS and by that time the bike was ready. They said they’d checked it out to make sure that the TPMS sensor hadn’t been damaged and also the fork seals and declared me good to go. I got out of McDonough, picked up I-75 and followed it to the motel, arriving at 6. 

Freedom Powersports is one of those large warehouse places that sells a lot of off-road ATVs. Buried among the ATVs, enduro bikes, and Japanese cruisers were a few BMWs. Not a place I would normally choose - the website for the shop in Greenville, SC made it seem like a real BMW shop - but in the end Freedom worked out OK. Greenville was closer to Augusta by 15 miles but twenty minutes farther away because it is non-Interstate roads to get there. (91 miles) 

(Thursday, July 19) A day on the Interstate, and that is just as boring as it sounds. It poured hard overnight but wasn’t raining the the morning when I got up, although it was still dark outside - this far east the sun rises later by the clock than I am used to. The Travelodge motel worked out fine and even the minimal continental breakfast was good, or maybe it seemed good because I hadn’t eaten anything since 3 PM the previous afternoon. I started off with my rain gear although it was dry and only somewhat overcast because the weather report predicted showers along my route. I-75 is a straight shot almost to Orlando, so I followed that by Ashburn, Tifton, and Valdosta into Florida. Georgia is having enhanced traffic enforcement this week and there were sheriff cars and local police all over the Interstate. The limit is a reasonable 70 so that wasn’t a problem for me, but it was for the people I saw pulled over by the side of the road being written up.  I-75 is flat and boring, but without the heavy truck traffic I’ve experienced on other Interstates, so it wasn’t a bad ride. The billboards along the road provided some mild amusement and many of them were for attractions in Florida and were directed at tourists and truck drivers. My favorite, and I saw multiple signs for this establishment, was for The Risqué Cafe - We Bare All (the “I” in risqué being the silhouette of a pole dancer). 

In Gainesville, Florida I hit a heavy rain shower that lasted for 15 minutes or so, and there were scattered showers the rest of the day. I turned off the Interstate onto the Florida Turnpike, a toll road, which goes into Orlando. After three stops to pay tolls I exited in downtown Orlando and made my way to the Ace Cafe, where I met Howard for lunch. 

The original Ace Cafe on the north circular road around London, England was established in 1938 and was primarily a transport cafe for commercial drivers. It was damaged by a bomb during WWII, but was rebuilt and reopened after the war ended. In the 1950s and early 60s it became a hangout for motorcyclists who would gather there to socialize, show off their bikes, eat greasy chips (French fries) and drink mugs of tea. They would also listen to Rock ‘n’ Roll on the jukebox - at that time English radio, the BBC, did not play rock music and jukeboxes were the only places where young people could hear rock, unless they bought the recordings themselves. There was supposedly a challenge where riders would start a song then ride down the road a mile or so to a turnaround, then attempt to get back to the Ace before the song ended. The rockers (motorcyclists with British bikes, black leather jackets, and long, Brylcremed hair - as opposed to mods who wore stylish clothing and favored scooters) either moved on (many died), or married, had kids, and bought a Mini, the whole rocker scene faded, and eventually the Ace closed, the building became a tire repair shop, then another business. However, around 1993 or so a man named Mark Wilsmore, an old rocker from back in the day, resurrected the place and it became a big success. So much so that a few years ago they opened a branch in Orlando. I was afraid that the Ace Cafe Orlando would be along the lines of the Hard Rock Cafe - an excuse to merchandise unearned nostalgia to aging baby boomers, but it is actually a well thought out, friendly, and accommodating establishment with decent food and a large selection of beers on tap that caters to motorheads of all persuasions as well as the casual visitor. The building used to be an old warehouse and there are three levels, with a couple of bars and seating on all levels. Several motorcycles are scattered around inside the building, motor artwork and photographs adorn the walls, and there’s even a an Austin Healey 3000 on the floor, as well as a Daniese store (Italian motorcycle clothing) attached. There is an Ace merchandise shop, but it isn’t obtrusive (I bought a mug).

Howard and I enjoyed our lunch, then wandered around the Ace, admiring the bikes on the floor and the pictures on the wall. I followed Howard (through a brief shower) to his house and unloaded the bike. We talked some more, then Deena came home from the store and we talked some more. After dinner at a nearby restaurant we returned to the Ace (after dropping Deena off at the house) because Thursday is bike night at the Ace Cafe. We arrived before things really got going, but there were many bikes already parked in the large lot, rock music was playing, a food stall was busy, and a dealer and one or two vendors had set up booths. A couple of young ladies in bright orange bikinis were washing motorcycles. Howard and I wandered around looking at the bikes, which were an eclectic mix of cafe racers, full on touring rigs, customs, standards, and cruisers - just about everything except vintage. Later in the evening a band was scheduled to play, the number of bikes would probably double, and perhaps a few owners of classic Triumphs and BSAs would bring their bikes around. On other nights of the week there are events that cater to old cars, sports cars, and other niches of the motor culture. 

Back at the house we talked into the evening until it was too late to watch the DVD of Thunder Road - perhaps tonight after dinner (320 miles) 

(Right now it is Friday morning and I’m at Deena and Howards house and it is pouring down rain - glad that I’m not on the road.)

(Saturday, July 21) This was a predictably boring ride on I-95 today, although visiting with Carol’s sister Trilla and her husband, Steve outside of Charleston, SC was fun. The weather was partly sunny to partly cloudy with temperatures in the mid to high 80s. There are fewer billboards on I-95 going north than on the Interstate going into Florida, and the traffic seemed a bit heavy for a Saturday, but it usually moved along at the limit. From the NOAA site it looks like this one day of good weather will be all that I’m going to get for the next five days. There is water everywhere in this part of the south and I’ve been told that it has been an unusually wet summer. (440 miles)

(Sunday, July 22) It was a good riding day until about 30 miles north of Richmond, Virginia, and then it became a slog and then it got wet. The breakfast at the Quality Inn in St. George where I spent the night was good - surprisingly so since the motel itself showed signs of hard use and neglect. There was a soft fog when I left the motel and got on I-95, but it soon burned off and it became a sunny and pleasant day with the temperature around 85 degrees. For an Interstate I-95 isn’t bad, at least in South Carolina and North Carolina. The road goes through many wooded areas and there aren’t many billboards to divert your eyes until you get within 80 miles of the North Carolina border and you begin to see signs for Pedro’s South of the Border, a huge motel/gas station/souvenir shops/restaurants/fireworks complex just south of the NC line. At first the billboards appear every few miles, but by the time you are within a mile of the exit they are about 500 feet apart. I only gassed up and took a couple of pictures but there were many people wandering around, most of them with kids. Tacky in the extreme, but an innocent tackiness.

Traffic increased as I got closer to Virginia but still moved along at the limit until about 30 miles after the I-295 bypass around Richmond when both northbound lanes suddenly came to a halt. After a few minutes we began moving again and were soon back up to 70, only to slow down. This behavior repeated itself several times until I exited I-95 in favor of US 301 which goes northeast towards the Potomac River and Maryland. The road is four lane divided most of the way with a few small towns and lots of flat, wooded land. When I got close to the river everything came to a stop and I discovered that the Potomac Bridge is only two lanes. We crept along for a couple of miles and I watched the oil temperature on the bike climb one bar above normal and then two and then I watched the sky go from overcast to threatening and just before the bridge it began to rain. I stopped on the other side and switched gloves and stayed on 301 through several very hard rain squalls where the road was partially flooded in spots. Finally I came to the turnoff for the backroads that lead to Shady Side, Maryland where Clark lives, arriving around 6 PM. With the heavy rain and all the water on the road my gear shift indicator has gone back to not showing first, neutral and second gears, but maybe they will return after the connector dries out, which may be some time because rain is predicted for the foreseeable future. 

Clark and I caught up on what we’ve been doing and later went out to dinner at the Brick Cottage, a nearby restaurant with excellent seafood. (520 miles)

(Tuesday, July 24) Yesterday was spent drying out, going into Anapolis for lunch, and watching the rain pour down heavily at times, lightly at other times. Not a good day to be out on a motorcycle and, fortunately, I wasn’t. At the Boat Yard restaurant in Anapolis our server, Taylor, recommended the crab cake so that is what I had and it was very good. Dinner was at a restaurant near Clark’s house in Shady Side and I had the salmon, which was also excellent.

This morning I walked into downtown Shady Side, which consists of Backyard Boats boat yard, the Shady Side Market, and the Driftwood Inn. Yesterday I’d ordered a breakfast at the Driftwood that was just too big, so this morning I went with the Starter Breakfast:

That dark oblong is scrapple, a PA/DE/NJ/MD speciality that is a sort-of-sausage - various animal parts held together with lard and fried. You do not want to read the ingredients on a package of scrapple. The breakfast was good but this was one of the few times on this trip that I’ve left food on the plate. 

Back at Clark’s I did a laundry and once that was done packed up and said goodbye to Clarks’s house on the West River.

I followed Clark to a nearby tavern in a boat yard where we had a light lunch and we said our goodbyes. I followed the GPS out of rural Maryland to I-95 south into Virginia where I caught heavy traffic after a few miles. There are two express lanes which were moving along very well, but they require an EZ-Pass, which I do not have. After several miles the traffic let up, only to slow to a crawl about 14 miles north of Fredericksburg. There was an accident blocking two of the three lanes and we crept along for a couple of miles. My oil temperature gauge climbed up to two bars over normal and I shut off the engine at the top of a gentle slope and coasted for 15 minutes by which time I was at the accident scene, which seemed to consist of a car in the median, but perhaps that was just the remnants since a fire truck and ambulance had gone by on the median shoulder earlier. At least it wasn’t raining - just a few light sprinkles.

Finally in Fredericksburg, I checked into the Econ-Lodge where I’m spending the night. The motel is about a quarter star above a Motel 6 but I was so glad to finally get here that I won’t complain. (100 miles)

(Wednesday, July 25) I was at Morton’s BMW (just down the road from my motel) before 8:30 and got the bike checked in. Across the road is the Four Seasons Restaurant where I ate a couple of years ago and breakfast there did not disappoint. Back at the BMW shop I read for awhile, wandered around and almost bought a jacket that I don’t need, but fortunately the bike was soon ready and I escaped without spending more money. The service cost considerably less that it would have in the Bay Area and they pulled the connector for the gear position potentiometer to find a mangled seal, which probably let water in. The tech replaced the seal, cleaned and put dielectric grease on the connector and everything is working so far. 

Back on I-95 North I just followed the GPS around Washington to Rockville and picked up I-270 and then I-70 to the Pennsylvania Turnpike (AKA I-76) all the way to the Ohio border. The PA Turnpike was the first “super highway” in the country, opening in 1940, so it is a bit old and tired, but the road does go through an impressive tunnel, and that is fun.. In the Allegheny Mountains I hit heavy rain several times for periods of 15-20 minutes, but by the time I paid the toll ($19.25!) and got to the Ohio Turnpike the weather cleared and it was a beautiful afternoon. I followed the GPS through Cleveland to my sister’s place in Lakewood where I’ll be until Saturday. (430 miles)

(Saturday, July 28) After a great two days of visiting family and eating too much I left Linda’s house Saturday morning and rode west on US 20 to the Ohio Turnpike and after a short distance exited in Elyria where I picked up OH 113 and rode west through Milan, Ohio (birthplace of Thomas Edison) to Bellevue where I continued west on US 20 again and in Fremont picked up US 6 which I stayed on for most of the day. This is all familiar territory to me since I went back and forth on US 6 from Cleveland to Chicago on various motorcycles over the years when I lived in Cleveland and had friends in Chicago. The road hasn’t changed that much over the years, although the small towns have spread out so that in central Ohio at least the towns seem to run into each other. The last time I rode US 6 there were many cops but this time I only saw three. In Ohio the larger towns such as Bowling Green and Napoleon have four lane bypasses around them, but in the smaller towns 6 goes right through and there is often a classic red brick downtown complete with town square. Edgerton (on the border with Indiana) was having some kind of town party and it would have been nice to stop and walk around but progress on 6 was slow and I didn’t want to delay any more that I already was.

In Indiana the small towns are farther apart and progress is a little more rapid than in Ohio. I rode through Butler and Waterloo, Kendalville and Syracuse and Nappanee, Bremen and Walkerton and Westville where I went north on US 421 to the Indiana Turnpike. After a short distance I paid a toll, then continued by Gary, Indiana and paid another toll and then onto the Chicago Skyway where I paid still another toll. The Dan Ryan Expressway, I-90/94, had heavy traffic and stop and go near downtown and then it cleared up a bit to the Edens Expressway which I followed to the north side where I exited at Peterson and followed that to North Jersey Ave. and my motel. The motel, a Rodeway Inn, is vey basic and compact but it seems to have been recently remodeled with new fixtures, good lighting, and plenty of outlets.

I called Andrew and he picked me up at the motel and we drove over city streets to iO improv theater where I ate dinner while we watched Whirled News Today,  which was fun. (350 miles) 

(Sunday, July 29) Today was spent with Andrew in Chicago. After breakfast at a nearby IHOP, I picked up three quarts of oil at an Advance Auto Parts and rode the bike to Andrews place on N. Hermitage. We added a quart to his car and put the rest in the back for future use. We rode the CTA (formerly known as the El) downtown to the Loop and walked by River Walk and Millennium Park to the Chicago Art Museum.

The museum had a special exhibit featuring John Singer Sargent, an American painter known for his portraits. He lived most of his life in Europe, but has a significant connection to Chicago through his good friend and patron, Charles(?) Deering of International Harvester. After lunch in the cafe at the museum we looked around some more, especially at the exhibit called Flesh (not what you think) featuring Ivan Albright, whose painting Dorian Gray is well known. 

We walked by Buckingham Fountain to the Loop. The huge music festival, Lolapalosa, was in the process of being set up. It is a great venue with the Loop to the west and the lake to the east.

We rode the El to iO where we saw a sketch show that is in preview and in which Andrew’s long time friend, Sera, is featured. After dinner at a nearby brewpub, we got back on the El and went to Andrew’s place where we said our goodbyes and I rode back to the motel. 

Some thoughts on Chicago. It is very spread out which makes getting anywhere a lengthy process. Away from downtown the streets and visible infrastructure of the neighborhoods is somewhat shabby, but in the area around the museums and the Loop everything is clean and maintained and there were far fewer homeless and people acting out than in San Francisco. Smells a lot better, too. When we rode the El downtown there were many people going in the same direction, mostly Andrew’s age, out to enjoy a fine summer day. I’m not interested in living there, but I can understand why Andrew likes it.