Chan writes:

 It was beautiful.  GSMNP is the most visited National Park in the country, but this side is much less visited, and is stunning.

 This section of I-40 is about a fun as an Interstate can be, with big sweeping curves as it traverses the mountains.  I set a speed that kept me moving just a bit faster than traffic and had a ball.

Coming around one curve, I saw a motorcycle in the emergency lane, with the rider dismounted.  As I approached I began to slow, intending to pull over and see if he needed help.  He turned and made eye contact, so I held up my left hand, pointed to him, signaled, “OK?”  He returned a “thumbs up”, I waved, and picked the pace back up.   

About a mile later, coming around another curve, I saw TWO bikes in the emergency lane, this time with a rider on the ground inspecting the bike, and tools scattered around.  “What is it with this stretch of road?”  I wondered aloud in my helmet.  I pulled in just ahead of them, dismounted, and went back to check.  The riders were two older guys, riding Harleys that looked about as old as they were.

 “You need a hand”?

 “I think we got it.  Burned up a clutch.  You see a hardtail chopper back there”?

 “Yeah, about a mile back.”

 “He’s waiting for us, probably wondering where we are.  He’ll be along in a minute, and we will be OK.  But I sure do appreciate you stopping.”

 “You bet.  I stop any time I see a motorcyclist pulled over.” 

“Well, we're pulled over all the time.  Look at what we ride!”

 We shared a laugh, and I went on my way.

Bill writes

Riding out of the driveway was going to be different – no trailer, no truck-cab. This would be an “organic” trip, involving the use of the motorcycle as the primary locomotion from the beginning of the trip, to end. The idea behind this adventure was self-sufficiency. I wanted to be able to ride and camp, ride and camp, until the trip was complete; in order to do so, clothing, technical items, and shelter, would all have to be contained on the motorcycle. As an experiment in capacity, I decided to purchase one of the larger side case housings from Bob’s BMW to test the theory of increased volume with the downside of lateral girth. This proved to be a good decision as tent, sleeping bag, ground sheet, pillow, mattress, stakes, and hammer all fit neatly – albeit the case needed some encouragement from me to actually snap shut. All other items, from camera, to change of clothes, to water bladder were placed in logical locations on the bike. With a brand new Nolan 102 on my egg, I rode out of my driveway early Friday morning heading North.

For a June morning in Florida, it was unusually cool and dry. For the first two hours of the trip, I was very comfortable. The dreaded heat and perspiration that go with riding in the South was minimal.  It should be noted that an Olympia AST was being worn with all of the vents open, (same with helmet), windshield in the maximum airflow position, and a full camelback of Gadorade were contributing to my level of comfort.  The perception of time passing quickly was a good sign as Eufala and Phoenix City, were quickly in my rear-view mirror. With Blue Ridge Mountain Motorcycle Camp, Cruso, NC as my target destination for the day, I had some miles ahead of me; but I reassured myself that once I had Atlanta in my “six,” that the remainder of the 600 mile day would be fine.

Marc and Chan had previously advised of an alternate route through the NE corner of Georgia that would add some miles, but make for a better ride than vectoring straight to Clayton from Atlanta. So, with daylight on my side, I decided to try their route. Excellent decision! HWY 197 out of Clarksville provides a beautiful clockwise route around Lake Burton with an Easterly vector to Clayton on HWY  76; this is clearly superior to HWY 441 – unless perhaps you are in a hurry. With a quick stop in Clayton for more Gatorade and petrol, I headed East on Warwoman Road --- Yeah! The really good stuff was about to begin. The bike started feeling light again – the payoff.

By the time I arrived in Highlands NC, the day was drawing to a close. I wanted to be at BRMC prior to sunset and it was pushing 1630 hours. More fuel and a good bottle of Merlot tucked in the trunk of my bike, and I was off on the final segment of the first day. Well, I though I was off – the traffic on 64 through Sapphire was thick. So I did not get to break free, until turning north onto HWY 215.  Better. Now I was within striking distance of Phil’s. Once on the Blue Ridge, I really let the RT go -- late afternoon sunshine, crisp mountain air, and few if any other travelers on such a beautiful majestic highway. FAHUN!  The final run North on HWY 276 lead me to the front gate of BRMC. Cool, day one done, six hundred and ten miles on the odo.  Greeted by Chan’s smiling face, I had made it, relatively comfortable, mildly fatigued, but here I was in the great state of NC, ready to relax and enjoy the rest of the trip.

Marc writes:

20 June (400 miles)

Destination was Louisville, KY and my son's Karate tournament (Blue Grass Nationals) at the Galt House Hotel.

I started the day early (before sunrise) at Hungry Mother State Park with a headache, mild nausea, and a bit cold.  It seems a cold front moved though.  Later that morning, other folks would mention being a bit nippy in the night ("It was right cold in the night, wasn't it Ms. Daisy?").  I was the first up/going in Campground B.  I couldn't suffer the headache anymore, and knew that I needed to mitigate it before it got worse.  Off to the bath house for a badly needed potty.  Stopped by the bike for 4 Advil, a swig of Gatorade, and a Special K bar.  Returned to the tent and ate the bar -- yuk.  I did not feel well.  Waiting.  Waiting.  Still feel bad.  Right, then.  Off to a hot shower, maybe that'll help.  Camp "towel" and diddy bag -- and about a half-hour in a steamy shower.  Afterwards, I felt a bit better, but still not good.  I started to break camp and get things in order -- I had to make Louisville that day.  First to stow was the air mattress, next the tent, clothes, and what-not.  I changed into my riding gear before breaking the tent (modest me).  The tent broke down easily but was still a bit damp.  I'd spread it out (the sun is starting to show now), and took off to get some breakfast and gas back down in Marion.  Buy the time I get back, it should be dry (enough).  The lake at Hungry Mother was covered in a mist.  Pretty.  Looked like a scene from a medieval-type movie.  (Please, enjoy the pic I did not take…)

Gassed up now and looking for breakfast.  I still didn't feel great and I was afraid to eat at my normal greasy spoon breakfast, OS or WH – it might come back on me later.  My main concern was that I'd have to deal with my headache all day.  I stopped at McD's for a chicken biscuit and a diet cola.  Nibbling on the biscuit, sipping on the coke -- not going fast.  I made a call to Connie to bring in her morning -- she was folding laundry (7am central), nice.  We chatted about Jacob's upcoming drama/play, Grace's FCAT scores, and Pierce's activities at Child World -- we are very busy people.   She's a Nurse Practioner, so I tell her my symptoms -- or, at least give them as best I can.  She's good.  After a brief discussion and more questions, she concluded that I needed caffeine.  True.  I had not been drinking the cokes nearly as much as in my normal daily grind.  I'd been trying to be healthy -- Gatorade, water.  Well, screw that.  Give me some aspartame.  Another refill of diet and some time on the Wi-Fi.  There was an open network nearby that kept me from *paying* for the McD's wi-fi.  I cannot believe that they charge for wi-fi.

Checked the weather -- looked like rain on Sat/Sun in Willville.  We would see as it got closer.  No mail.

I stopped at the general store to pee and pick up a diet (remembering my addiction to caffeine).  Another cool place.  It had everything -- bulk food, candy, a small greasy spoon, and cold drinks.  It even had a wood-burning stove surrounded by gents talking of the day's events.  Collette said that it'd been 38 degrees the night before.

North, out of BG and making my way back to Tazewell to continue north -- remember, Louisville is today.

I wanted to change the route to make it into WV (to check off another state, right).  Added Yukon, WV to my Zumo route and off again on 16 north out of Tazewell.

Southwestern WV was a place like I've never seen, in person.  The small towns have houses *right on the street* -- zero front yard, and all evenly spaced along the highway.  A feeling of narrowness.  It reminds me of the coal towns you see in the movies (October Sky).  They didn't look like they were prospering.

Just after Squire, WV, my Zumo told me to take a left onto Canebrake Mountain Road.  Man, what a road.  Only about 1 lane wide, with "houses" periodically.  I initially thought it was a driveway after I met a few cars coming down the hill -- they didn't know what to think of me and my setup.  I just waved and prayed that I wouldn't break down here.  Nice road, though.  A bit trashy in the corners.  The name changed to Warrior Mine Road and terminated at Hwy 83 in War, WV.  Nice name.

83 was a very nice road.  Continued north on 80 (out of Bradshaw) towards Iaeger, WV.  More "close" towns, some abandoned schools -- which is an eerie thing.  To see a large multi-story school building boarded up (or even bricked up) seems to be out of place.  My stereotype is for this stuff to be in eastern Europe, not here.  Wrong.

The roads in this part of WV are seriously winding, but there's not much change in elevation.  Nice riding, but zero passing opportunities.

Hwy 80, and Hwy 52 north were just about miserable.  The good thing about this part of WV was that there are some nice back roads.  Right.  The thing I didn't think of was that these back roads were also the "front" roads.  80 and 52 were heavily used by trucks of all types.  Coal, rock, log, you name it.  I followed one of some form for way too long.  No passing areas.  Really.

I wanted to eat at some place local (as if there were any chain stores).  Stopped for lunch in Justice, WV The Justice Cafe (on the right going up) -- "Southern WV's best food" -- Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes green beans cole slaw.  Yum.  Would eat there again.

Just south of Delbarton, it started to rain.  Good, in a way.  I was having trouble staying awake after that lunch.  Stopped at a church parking lot to don the new Frogg Toggs.  A custodian was loading trash bags onto the *top* of her car (I'd learn later that she was taking them across 52 to a dumpster) and one fell off.  With only one glove off, I walked over to get her attention and help her get it "loaded" up.  I grabbed the bag and proceeded to get the nastiest stuff on my hand (un-gloved).  I don't even want to know what it was.  Yuck.  I just handed the bag to her and smiled.  Back to the bike for a Huggies wet wipe.  Better now.  Anyway, rain top on and ready to go.  Very steep driveway down to 52 and, man, this bike is *tall*.  Don't want to drop it -- that would look funny.  Since it was raining (and I was getting tired of following trucks) I reprogrammed the Zumo for fastest (w/ interstates) route to Louisville.  I was still 6 hours away and it was after 2p local time.  Time to kick-er in the tail.

I Caught 119 at Williamson (what state am I in?) and was making good time.  119 has several new sections that are not on the 2008 City Navigator package.  The Zumo, of course, goes nuts in those sections.

Above Pikeville, KY, I caught the Country Music Highway (23).  The roads were getting much better, save the rain.  Speeds are higher.  Making time.

West of Prestonburg, KY the highway changes to Combs Mountain Parkway -- starting to look like interstate -- just the 2-lane version and reminded me of the BRP.  Passed Campton.  Gas is getting low (flashing solid bar), ~240 miles on the tank.  Eventually found gas at Hwy 715 -- flashing hollow bar -- 260 miles on the tank.  Whew.  More soda, a break, and a call to Connie.  They'd left home but are not sure where they are.  Nice.  630 mile trip.  Leave home at 1:00pm central.

Bert Combs has a nice highway.  Really nice.  4 lane, smooth, rough-cut through the hills.  Stopped in Frankfort (Hwy 60) for a visit to the Waffle House (btw - my headache was long gone).  Another call to Connie…they've found their way.  It'll be a late arrival for them.  And tomorrow's the tournament.  Don't waste time.

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