Slow Ride

didi

So it was a quick turn-around for part two of my vacation time.  On Sunday, Monica flew out of NC after our week-long beach odyssey and on Monday, I mounted my Streetglide and headed west.

I don't know if it's really a bucket list, but somewhere in my head is a list of things I'd like to accomplish and places I'd like to visit over my lifetime.  There are very few things on the list that I haven't done, or at least attempted, but as soon as I check off one item, I seem to add about 3 more!

Front motorcycle parking outside communal building.

Ever since I got stationed in NC, I've wanted to do the famous rides found along the NC/TN border in the Great Smoky Mountains.  My camping trip with Jess and Dano a few weekends ago into a nearby area just added to my conviction that I'd make it happen before I left NC.  In a few months, I'll be transferring to San Antonio, TX so I knew I had to find a way to fit this riding in not only before I moved, but also before the weather got too chilly for me to enjoy it.  As it turned out, I cut the weather piece a little close, but in the end, it all worked out.

Backside of Ironhorse.  Camping and cabins across the creek.

Since it was still good riding weather for anyone born north of Baton Rouge, I brushed aside my usual tendency to just roll into a town and try my luck at finding lodging and actually got online and made a reservation.  The original intent was to stage out of Robbinsonville, NC at the foot of some epic rides for a couple of days, then roll on to the Natchez Trace Trail down to Louisiana.  As luck would have it, the two days I planned on staying in the mountains were some of the wettest on record this year.  My desire to experience riding in the Smoky Mountains prompted me to extend my stay which allowed me a rainless, albeit chilly, riding day in some beautiful country.

Upstairs loft overlooking the Great room at Ironhorse.

Before I launch into a narrative about the actual riding, I have to give kudos to a great little nugget I found online.  The Ironhorse Motorcycle Lodge in Stecoah, NC proved to be a highlight of my week long riding trek.  All of the pictures in this post so far were taken at Ironhorse.  You would think that a day and a half of solid rain would cause a biker to lament her bad luck and curse the weather, but this place actually made even poor riding weather turn into a great opportunity.  This place has camping, bunk houses, private rooms with baths and whole cabins to stay in.  The best part though, is the huge communal building where everyone eats and hangs out to compare rides, equipment, riding stories and food.  The bad weather did nothing more than prompt most of us to hang out and make new friends.

Chris, Jackie & Brian out front of the Dragon hat store!

There are numerous pros and cons to traveling alone.  One of the definite benefits is that I'm much more approachable, which in itself is both a pro and a con!  It only took a half a day of pouring rain for me to make three new friends.  Chris, Jackie and Brian had ridden down from Ohio and had already done several of the rides on my agenda.  We spent the morning all hanging out talking bikes and getting to know each other before we spied a break in the clouds.  We were all itching to do some riding, so we donned rain gear and off we went.    As you can see in this pic of us at the entrance to the Tail of the Dragon, we got a little wet on our roll-out, but we didn't care even a little bit!  We avoided the more technical rides since the roads were so slick, but we still managed to ride the Hell-Bender 28, see some beautiful scenery and enjoy some curvy, flowing roads.

Click on pic.  Can you make out the dragon over the Cherohala Skyway?

A cold front rolled in that night so we were greeted with low 50s temperatures the next morning.  For my intrepid Buckeye friends, these temps didn't even register as something that needed a reaction.  But for this Cajun girl, I was sporting a full arsenal of snivel gear on a body that rested on a heated seat (yes, my new ride has all the bells and whistles!).

Jackie, Chris and Brian had already ridden the Dragon before my arrival, so I escorted them on the Cherohola Parkway as they made the trek back home towards OH.

Trail of the Dragon "Tree of Shame"

After parting ways with my new friends at the end of the Cherohala Skyway, I continued to make the loop that would take me on the Tail of the Dragon and back to the Ironhorse Lodge.  Luckily, the day warmed a little and I was able to relax and feel the road beneath my tires as I  rambled next to lakes, farmland and beautiful homesteads.  Once I hit the section of US 129 known as the Tail of the Dragon however, sightseeing ceased and I concentrated on the road ahead.  The road is so storied as treacherous that there's even a "Tree of Shame" on the NC side of it in which hangs parts left on the road by cyclists taking the turns too fast.  In order to document a biker's epic, or tragic, ride, there are a few professional photographers set up in some pretty hairy curves along the Dragon.  If you want to get a feel for what the ride is like, check out these websites:  www.killboy.com, www.us129photos.com, www.moonshinephoto.com.

There's no doubt that the 318 curves in 11 miles were technical and challenging; a biker had gone over the edge while I was riding it resulting in his bike resting 30 feet below in a ravine (thankfully, he walked away).  But I didn't find this stretch of highway any more difficult than the numerous mountain roads I prowled as I learned to ride a motorcycle in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.  Nevertheless, the Dragon was on my list of rides to do, so I enjoyed the journey and added it to my collection of experiences.

Natchez Trace Trail next to Ross R Barnett Reservoir in MS.

                                                                                     With all these notorious rides now under my belt, I pointed my bike southwest and made my way to the Natchez Trace Trail.    This trail extends 444 miles from Nashville, TN to Natchez, MS through three states and 10,000 years of North American History.  The route was once a footpath that bisected the traditional homelands of the Natchez, Chicksaw and Choctaw nations.  Now, it's a well-maintained two-lane highway closed to commercial traffic that doesn't have a single stop sign or red light for 444 miles!  Well, it was actually shut down from Jackson to Natchez, MS for upgrades, but other than that, no stops!  For a biker who enjoys scenery more than technical curves, this stretch of asphalt was the perfect way to see a large portion of MS.  Along the way, I saw numerous wild turkey and deer grazing along the side of the road, as well as seemingly kamikaze butterfly colonies that coated the ferring of my Streetglide after only a few miles.  A humorous interaction occurred at almost every gas stop once I left the Smokey Mountains.  I would shut off my bike and unscrew the gas tank cover to fill the tank.  Inevitably, some guy would get out of his car or truck, saunter over, and feel obliged to comment "That's a big bike."  I'd just smile and reply, "I'm a big girl."  Really, what is the appropriate response to that comment?  You don't have to be big to ride a big bike.  Quite a few guys I know wouldn't be able to lift an 850 lb bike off the ground if they dropped it, so it has nothing to do with picking it up.  The only issue related to the weight of the bike that I have to pay attention to is not parking it on a down slope.  It has no reverse, so backing the Streetglide out under leg power up a hill is much harder than it was with the Sportster!  

Riding the Tail of the Dragon. Photo by Moonshinephoto.com.

There seems to be a common thread that runs through some of my most pleasurable past-times- wind and warmth!  Although I enjoy a gentle breeze when I'm sitting on a porch swing or hanging out on the beach, it seems that a forceful, hot wind rushing past me causes my senses to come alive.  On a beautiful summer ride in Colorado between Colorado Springs and Canyon City on my Sporty several years back, it dawned on me how similar the feeling of riding my motorcycle was to riding in a boat in South Louisiana.  It was the warmth of the sun combined with the sound and feel of the rushing wind that felt utterly familiar and comforting.  In those precious 4-6 seconds of military static line parachuting before the chute opens or the glorious 30 or so seconds of free fall involved in skydiving, I have the same sensation.  Something about the heat and adrenaline rush of air whipping past me focuses my mind.  In those moments, I'm in the moment.  Work, relationships, economics, politics, every world dilemma recedes to some unregistered part of my brain and all I feel is that moment.  Whether I'm falling through the sky at terminal velocity or gliding over asphalt on two mechanized wheels, I have no thoughts other than the sensations of that moment in time.  It's just me and my interpretation of the sensations.  Just me and the consequences of my actions.  It's just me and whatever power controls my fate.

My ride spanned over 1000 miles and 6 states in 5 days.  I made new friends, saw some amazing scenery, reconnected with the sheer joy of a hobby and ended with precious time with family.  My week alone on the road reaffirmed my independence, yet my ability to enjoy those I encounter along my journey.  It's taken me a lot of years to stop and enjoy the proverbial "smell of the roses", but I'm finally coming to a place in life that allows me to stay and enjoy the experience I'm in instead of focusing on the next one to come.  It's still a conscious effort to be there, but there I am :-)