This is the travelog for my recent wintertime motorcycle trip from Columbia, South Carolina to Big Pine Key, Florida. The trip was lengthened a bit by detouring through Mt. Olive, Illinois. Walt will be interested in the statistics: 2440 miles in 5 days from 5pm December 31, 2003 to 8pm January 5, 2004. I have to report that this trip was much more comfortable than the previous wintertime trip in 2003, from January 8th to 13th, Salt Lake City, Utah to Columbia, SC.
Sunday morning, Dec 26, in Columbia, South Carolina, I was watching the weather channel while lying on the Gowdys' couch. I was waking up slowly and definitely logy from lack of sleep, but my interest perked at the forecast for a warming in the Midwest into the 60 degree range with lows well above freezing for several days. For months I had been wanting to ride my old BMW motorcycle to Illinois to see my sister and to collect several items from my storage locker - the most important being a battery for this computer (since the original one is dead). The other items were a pair of binoculars to lend to my sister, and a water filter and backpacking poncho for my forthcoming hike of the Appalachian Trail. It would be a lovely surprise to see Carol and her family during the holidays. The forecast looked good, so I informed the Gowdys and Gregorys over breakfast of my abrupt decision to leave early Wednesday morning.
All year I had been helping the Gowdys with various projects indoors and outdoors. Sunday I started finishing the remaining projects and picking up my messes. I had wanted to leave before Thanksgiving and again before Christmas to spend time with my friend Bill who has been suffering chronic pain for the last two years in the Florida Keys. By Thanksgiving the Rambo genealogy was complete enough to leave but several Gowdo computer requests were unfulfilled. Just before Christmas the wireless network was finally fully functional after I drilled holes through the floors and crawled under the house to run three ethernet cables from the modem & computers in the computer room to the wireless router in the family room. (Wireless doesn't work well through walls!) The floppy and CD-RW drives were installed in Greg's old computer, but new drivers were needed to resolve sound card problems (due to a Windows 98SE upgrade). This gradual progress had reached the point that I could probably get everything organized and packed in a couple of days.
Sunday night I answered outstanding Rambo e-mail requests and went through my stacks of papers trying to figure out which ones needed to come with me and what I could store at the Gowdys until next spring. After a day of picking up yard debris and other messes Monday, I slept ten hours Monday night. Tuesday morning I resumed packing, sorting, and projects with hopes of leaving bright and early Wednesday morning by staying up Tuesday night until I had everything packed and ready. I also needed to do my 2002 income tax return and the annual pension fund accounting ... but realized I could postpone those chores by bringing all those financial papers with me to drop off in my storage locker in Illinois. Ditto for dozens of outstanding letters I needed to write.
At dawn motorcycle maintanence priority was to change oil - to lightweight 10W-30. I was partially packed, but still sorting through papers deciding what goes and what stays, still completing a few final projects, and still packing. The weather forecasts had come true to this point, and my state of mind had reached "frantic." Unfortunately there was just too much packing left to do, exacerbated by the need to take pending Rambo book items with me and to leave a neat stack of materials at the Gowdys awaiting my return next spring. Around 10am I realized that it was just going to take as long as necessary and I might as well relax about the process. Wednesday was indeed a warm and pleasant day.
I was finally ready to leave at 5pm Wednesday evening, New Years Eve. Greg and I made a final run with yard debris to the dump, to the dump, to the dump, dump, dump. I said one last goodbye to Clark and left on the motorcycle as the light was fading. The first part of the ride up I-26 was pleasant although a bit cool, perhaps all the way to the North Carolina border. Twilight is a relaxing time for me to travel on the interstate highways. Traffic was moderately heavy, perhaps because this was New Year's Eve. (I even saw two fireworks displays, one in North Carolina, and a single burst later in Tennessee.)
Riding in the dark doesn't promote vivid scenic descriptions, so my preference is riding in daylight. However, this time I was taking advantage of a wintertime "window of opportunity" to retrieve several items from my storage locker in Illinois and to see my sister & nephew. It was chilly and I was thoroughly bundled up with two pair of tights, kneepads, jeans, and coveralls beneath my rain suit. The tights provided the first layer for my feet, silk socks and running shoes from Jim Sweet were much appreciated, but I attribute "warm" feet to the SmartWool socks - thanks again Danny. Up top I had two undershirts, two threadbare turtlenecks (one from Mark Valdes), one long sleeved Halloween shirt from my brother Dean, a heavy Wisconsin sleeveless shirt, the old polyester shirt that appears on my driver's license, the coveralls, a WestCan thermal vest from David Friedman, and the old blue parka from Stewart Kane inside the rain suit. On top I wore a polypropolene bacclava and a double layer dickie-style ski mask tucked into my coat under the motorcycle helmet. At least six different people contributed items that I was wearing, some were "inherited" from my father, and I even purchased several items myself. The rain suit provided a windproof outer layer. The ride would have been unbearably cold without it.
My bike had been balky about starting before I left, and I thought the battery would charge up while riding. It didn't, so I had to stop for gas only at stations that have a downhill grade. My first goal was to cross the mountains before going to sleep. Sometime in North Carolina I reached around behind me to see if the jug of orange juice was still hanging precariously from the bedroll behind me. It was, but I also felt a small flat box that seemed to have shifted. In daylight I would have stopped to adjust the load, but at night it is harder to find a safe spot to stop. Periodically I felt back to confirm that the box was still there and that it was staying in place.
Immediately after crossing the Tennessee border, I decided that I had come far enough and was too tired to continue. I took the first exit and reconnoitered. Uphill was a gravel road, no good for push starting the bike. Downhill was paved with a good grade leading to a whitewater launch site - Excellent! If I could just find a good place to sleep uphill near the gravel road, I'd be beddy bye close to midnight. About a mile up the gravel road I was very surprised to see headlights behind me. I pulled over to let a white pickup truck pass. By this time the road was a single track and soon after I came across a house fully lighted. Since I hadn't seen any side roads or "hidden" places to sleep I backtracked to a wide pull-out and stopped. When I stepped off the motorcycle I was immediately struck incredulous by the absence of that 2-inch thick box of papers and miscellany. Lord knows what was in it. I searched for it, by riding back up the gravel road, back to the whitewater launch, back 20 miles to the previous exit on I-40, back up the gravel road a second time ... no box.
By now I was wide awake, so I decided to ride on instead of sleeping. As I rode, I rummaged through my mind thinking of the last things I had seen while packing that last box of odds and ends. Finally I had an exhaustive list of anything that might be in that box ... and I was again ready to stop riding and go to sleep. About 60 miles into Tennessee I pulled off the road for gas and found a Tennessee State Visitor's center that was uphill and closed. I parked the bike in plain sight in the huge, dark parking lot away from the doors and laid down to sleep on the pine duff covering one of the traffic islands without removing any of my clothing or helmet. On another night I might have been more circumspect, but I couldn't imagine anyone partying or parking in that lot on New Years Eve and I'm sure the police were busy elsewhere.
After a few hours I woke up a bit chilled and decided to get rolling to get through the mountains before the coldest hours pre-dawn. I ate an ages-old piece of plastic-wrapped bacclava that I had saved from certain death in the trash can at the Gowdys. Reading the label provided quite a surprise since it contains neither sugar nor milk, so is ok for my diet. I continued up I-75 past Lexington to I-64. In rural Kentucky as I approached Louisville, fatigue again overcame me and I pulled off the interstate. At first this exit didn't seem promising. It was at the top of a ridge and the local road dropped downhill in both directions, paved to the south, gravel to the north, without any side roads or "hiding places" for me to sleep safely. When I turned onto the Interstate ramp, there was a big highway department shed full of sand - and nothing else. Terrific! I confirmed that I could sit on the bike and "walk" it back out the entrance ramp to the local road and to the downhill pavement. Perfect! The sky was pitch black and the view of the stars excellent. I parked close to the shed, unpacked my sleeping gear, and slept soundly until daylight. During the night, a semi also stopped at that exit and the tractor-trailer actually blocked the view of my position completely.
Next morning, New Years Day, I got started early and figured to arrive in Illinois by mid-afternoon. Traffic was somewhat busy through Louisville, but once I switched to Interstate 64 through Indiana and Illinois, the roadway was practically deserted. The temperature warmed up into the 60s so I was warm and comfy, especially since I was still wearing everything listed at the start. I called my sister and the Stalcups when I stopped for gas in Indiana and surprised them by announcing the impending visit.
I stopped in Trenton, IL to see my friends Don & Ann for an hour, but had to leave about 4:30 to meet my sister at her son Eric's house. This is the first time I've seen his house completed and occupied. It looks very nice and homey. Last time I saw it was while helping to paint Chelsea's bedroom purple and Erika's bedroom pink. The girls both showed me their rooms, closets, and Christmas presents. Eric was tired and dappled with plaster from mudding plasterboard in the basement bedroom which being finished for 12-year-old Chelsea. Eric's basement den is very nicely appointed for the hunter and the tongue-and-groove flooring that Carol milled and installed is beautiful. Everyone was healthy and happy, even more important than usual since Denise was seven months+ pregnant with their son. Eric showed me the shed & workshop he had built with two 10' doors and as much floor space as the house. His collection of hunting trohpies now adorns those walls instead of the bedroom. We rolled the motorcycle down into the workshop and hooked its battery to the charger. Ralph joined the group and we headed off to look for a restaurant open on New Years Day. The first restaurant of choice was closed, so we made the trip to Edwardsville to eat at Steak and Shake.
My custom in the past at Steak and Shake was to eat their desserts ("Life is Uncertain, Eat Dessert First"), and it was strange to eat other food according to my heart-healthy diet. Carol promised to drive me around on errands Friday, so I left the motorcycle charging at Eric's and loaded all my papers and sleeping gear into her truck. At her house first I went through my papers to see what might have been in the missing box. I was reassured that most of the "important" papers I might have lost had been packed elsewhere. After that I slept in Carol's front yard happily and soundly all night. Friday morning early Carol and I ran to the local convenience store/gas station for eggs and confectioners sugar. While Carol baked and frosted the angelfood birthday cake, I did my 2002 income tax return. I am happy to report a total income of $371.79. Carol dropped me off at the storage locker where the big surprise was an office lock preventing my entry. It turns out that lock should have been removed in May when I paid my past-due bill. The miracle is that I had found everything I wanted and more by the time that Carol returned from birthday card shopping. She drove me to the Credit Union where I enjoyed talking with Maxine, Kathy, and Nancy. Then it was time to return to Eric's for his birthday party and dinner at Red Lobster. Red Lobster is a special treat for Eric since the rest of his family isn't enthusiastic about meals there. Both girls behaved admirably throughout both meals and that certainly helped to make the occasions most enjoyable for all of us.
The bike started much better with the battery freshly charged, and I rode it up to Carol's so that I could pack and leave in the morning. The weather forecasts for St. Louis, 50 miles southwest, still predicted 50 degrees overnight with rain starting in the morning and continuing all day with steadily falling temperatures for the next two days. The weather front was approaching from the southwest. After the rain, the temperatures were supposed to continue falling into the low 20s. I would rather have stayed another day or two, but my "window of opportunity" was obviously about to slam shut. It rained lightly a few times overnight, so I moved my sleeping gear under the lumber shed. Saturday morning, January 3rd dawned quite overcast so I hurried to shuffle papers and figure out what could be left in the storage locker. That turned out to be a 2 inch thick stack of financial statements. It drizzled lightly and briefly a couple of times before 9am, and I was relieved to pack and leave without rain. However within a mile the drizzle resumed and continued while I filled up with gas in Mt. Olive. The rain stopped 20 miles later as I rode past the Illinois farming community of Hamel. At my storage locker in Edwardsville I stopped only long enough to drop off that pile of financial statements.
Immediately afterwards more drizzle fell on I-270 toward Highland, but it diminished after I exited onto Illinois highway 4 south to Lebanon and continued on old U.S. 50 across to Trenton. The Stalcups were home for another couple of hours until 12:30 when they left to babysit their grandchildren. I rode out of the area on I-64 east-south-east since the weather forecasts had shown a storm approaching from the west-south-west. In Mt. Vernon did I remember John's motorcycle museum and saw the Harley shop from the interstate, but didn't stop at either. I-57 south runs past Rend Lake and many other familiar places from my days at Carbondale with Linda. The drizzle caught up to me again north of Marion. I left the interstate for several miles to gas up and to "enjoy" traveling in the mist at a lower speed in less traffic where it is safer and possible to find shelter and stop. The drizzle was again short-lived and I continued on to I-24 south-east. That is another good road which has deteriorated in Illinois, but I was relieved to be heading away from the storm. I kept running through drizzle occasionally in Illinois and decided to try to get past Atlanta and out of the mountains before stopping.
The Paducah, Kentucky welcome station is a refurbished historical house, very scenic, and very crowded. To relieve myself I first have to struggle and writhe to get out of my rain suit. It amused me to do those contortions in full public view while watching the TV monitors for the weather report. The monitors showed no rain ahead, so I made a couple of cell phone calls to reassure sister, Gowdys and Stalcups that I was alive and safe before I resumed travel. Riding under overcast skies is always a trifle tense and that was the course all day.
Darkness dropped as I approached Clarksville. It was unfortunate to miss all the lovely scenery by continuing to travel through those Tennessee mountains during darkness, but it seemed appropriate to stay ahead of the storm. The Stalcups had told me to enjoy the sights of Nashville, but only lights were visible and traffic was fairly heavy. I've always enjoyed riding the turns into Chattanooga, but not after dark under cloudy skies. Fortunately the skies cleared somewhat and several stars appeared to reassure me.
Approaching Atlanta, I finally tired and pulled off at an exit where I went uphill and found a carpet warehouse that looked sufficiently "common" to be of no concern for patroling night-time police. This being Saturday night, I had no concerns about the business opening early in the morning although there was a misty drizzle falling occasionally. The window "treatment" included a canopy that reached around the corner of the building to cover a grassy area behind the gas meters, so I parked the bike in the shadow of the building underneath that awning, laid out on my back fully dressed and fell off to sleep quickly. I awoke refreshed approximately three hours later and resumed riding through Atlanta. Traffic after 2am in Atlanta was busy but not heavy. The skies cleared and everything looked rosy. Somewhere south of Atlanta I made my first stop for Blue Bell ice cream. The first Quick Trip had a full case marked "not for sale." I stopped two other places before I found a pint of Cookies and Cream and another pint of Butter Pecan at Walmart. Yum! Approaching Macon I again became tired, so took a rural exit and found a newly developed office park. I was able to park the motorcycle out of sight behind a large office air conditioner. Unfortunately the smaller air conditioner I laid down beside wasn't as dormant in the cool night as I expected and I was awaked rudely and suddenly twice when the thing turned on only inches from my ear.
After the second rude awakening I resumed riding. At a gas stop near Valdosta close to 10am, I called sister and friends to brag about my progress and called ahead to see if the Sewell family was at home in Orlando. Heidi answered and assured me that the family would be at home later in the afternoon. In the next few miles I began to be sleepy, so I pulled off at a rural exit where I found a miniscule industrial park. There were no cars in the parking lot this Sunday morning, so I parked at the end of the lot and slept fully dressed, flat on my back in the shade of their air conditioner for an hour or two.
After I awoke and resumed travel, traffic was quite heavy and fast on I-75 south but I was very interested to again see the Florida scenery of pines, palms, and yucca. The landscape is flat, flat, flat, but there were more variations of height than I expected. At the Florida welcome station, I enjoyed a dollup of grapefruit juice with a similar dollup of orange juice as chaser. That left a very pleasant aftertaste. I called the Sewells again and got detailed directions to the house. The ride south was uneventful and traffic diminished substantially after I exited I-75 onto the Florida Turnpike. Signage warned of panther crossings, sometimes in areas where both sides of the road were fenced 10' high. There were only about three stops to pay tolls. As I breezed through the first east-bound toll booth, I was surprised to see west-bound traffic backed up at the toll booth for a couple of miles.
In Orlando I followed Bill's directions onto several toll roads and was amused by the Florida architecture and very light traffic. As always, it took longer than anticipated so that it was 4pm by the time I rode into the driveway. It was quite a treat to see grandpa Bill riding the mower with a grandkid in his lap. Heidi looks exactly like I remember her mother from 20 years ago. Her two boys, Jacob and Caleb are very well behaved, very different, and have a lot of fun with grandpa. It was quite a treat to see Bill and Merry enjoying their grandkids.
I left Orlando the next morning about 9:30 and skirted the city to the north by riding north on old US 441 until I could take Florida highway 19 south to US 27 south. I stayed on 27 south until I came to Florida route 29. There was a lot of traffic and development along those highways, so it is not a good route although I did find Blue Bell ice cream at a Walmart. I enjoyed a pint of Tin Roof Sundae and a pint of Strawberrys and Cream (although that one was freezer burned). There was so much development along the first many, many miles of US 27 that I expected to see gas stations every few miles. That suddenly ceased about the time I needed to fill the tank. I ran 25 miles on reserve until it ran out. My second reserve line wasn't working, so I unloaded several pieces of luggage and laid the bike on its side to slosh the gas from the unavailable reserve into the main tank. This maneuver allowed me to go the additional 15 miles to the next station. I chose this route hoping to see rural scenery. The scenery was sadly inferior although it was fun to ride the Tamiami Trail again (old US highway 41). Even US 41 is much, much more developed than the last time I rode it several years ago.
The sun was low in the sky as I started south on Florida 997, my favorite by-pass of Miami. I was surprised that it was only 15 miles to Homestead. A canal lined with palm trees parallels the road to the left, vegetable truck farms extend to the right. Traffic is light and moderately fast. No signs of hurricane damage were evident from the roadway. I gassed up in Homestead and stopped to call my sister and the Stalcups once I crossed Lake Surprise and was actually out on the Keys. Riding onto the Keys in the dark is not as scenic as I had hoped, even with a nearly full moon. In the future I'll have to remember to wait for daylight for that first beautiful 100-mile trip on old US highway 1, The Overseas Highway, across all those 47 bridges out onto the Keys. I arrived at Bill's house near mile marker 30 on Big Pine Key around 8pm Monday, Jan 5th, five days and four hours after leaving Columbia.
When that box of papers fell off the bike in Tennessee, I imagined that the local residents in the white pickup truck had picked it up. After my trip was finished, I decided that the box was too flimsy to have stayed together when it struck the ground. If that is so, then it fell off earlier on the interstate and I might have found it by backtracking several exits instead of only one. That had occurred to me at the time, but I had been too tired to want to ride back thirty miles or more to look for it. Now I wish I had done that even though the items lost were of minimal importance.
Now that I've been in the Keys two week, I've ridden over to play basketball on Sugarloaf Key four times. That ride is 12 miles and crosses a long causeway, a bridge to Little Torch and Middle Torch Keys, a 2nd bridge to Ramrod Key, a 3rd bridge to Summerland Key, and a 4th bridge to Cudjoe Key, and one last bridge to Sugarloaf Key. The water colors range from the normal blue to green-blue to milky greens to shades of purple and violet, depending upon the water depth and vegetation. Mangrove islands dot the seascape and there are occasional views of open water. Big Pine vegetation includes poison wood, pepperwood, palms, and pines. The Key Deer are the cutest little things and are mostly unafraid of people. I saw a wonderfully huge iguana dead alongside the road - the body must have been 3 inches around and a foot long. Unfortunately my buddy Bill is not doing well.
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