I was sitting in the airport in Detroit waiting to catch my flight back to northern Virginia and my attention was on The Weather Channel. It had nothing to do with weather in Detroit or Washington, DC. My focus was on tropical storm Fay. I was planning to leave Virginia first thing the next morning headed for Alabama, and as far as I could tell Fay was scheduling her arrival to coincide with mine.
I made it home and spent most of the evening packing the saddle bags and sneaking a peek at The Weather Channel to see if something new might help me make a decision on whether to make the ride or cancel. In reality, I knew I was going to ride, but by staying abreast of the weather, I could convince myself that my decision was based on information and not emotion. Two things were drawing me to the open road. First, I just like to ride. I'd ride through a hurricane versus not riding at all. Second, I had a high school reunion at the end of the ride and was looking forward to hooking up with old friends and having some fun.
The next morning nothing had changed weather wise. It was still obvious I was going to have to contend with Fay, but I loaded the bike and headed out anyway. I wanted to get an early start to allow me to enjoy some back roads once I got down into southwestern Virginia. Day one was planned for a little more than 500 miles. By my calculations Fay wasn't going to be a problem until Day Two. Caryville, Tennessee was the destination and the route included some roads that looked good on a map. Only time would tell if they would meet my expectations.
I loaded the bike and had the wheels rolling by 6:15 on a warm, late August morning. I decided to haul-ass down interstates 66 and 81 for the first part of the day, since I explored most of the roads close to home anyway. This would give me more time to enjoy the new roads I planned for later in the day.
My first goal was to check out the birthplace of Sam Houston near Lexington, Virginia. Having lived in Texas for more than 23 years, it just seemed right to stop by and check out Sam's roots. Getting there entailed about 40 miles of I-66 and then another 100 or so of I-81 through the Shenandoah Valley. I made it down to Lexington in slightly over 2 hours.
After reading a little about Sam Houston at the roadside park, I rode into downtown Lexington to check it out.
Lexington is home of the Virginia Military Institute and Washington and Lee University. For a southern boy like me, it's also home to the final resting places for two my favorite Civil War heroes, Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson. Lee was buried on the grounds of Washington and Lee University where he served as president of the school after the war. Jackson was buried in the Stonewall Jackson Memorial Cemetery, along with dozens of other Civil War casualties.
I wandered around Lexington for about an hour and finally decided I needed to get back on the road. I traveled south out of Lexington on US-11 until it met back up with I-81. I decided to fuel-up before hitting it hard again. While I filled my tank a fellow biker, Skip, a member of the Vietnam Veterans MC, was busy getting his bike back on the road and home to Florida. We struck up a conversation and rode out together. I only went a few miles before heading off to the west to explore southwest Virginia, but I assume Skip made his way to Florida without incident.
I peeled off I-81 at exit 167 toward Buchanan. Buchanan is where US-11 crosses state highway, VA-43. VA-43 is a great road that meanders along the James River. The pavement was good, the air was cool, and I was able to ride at my own pace (which is typically faster than the posted speed.) After 16 miles or so on VA-43 I crossed the river and made my way to Craig Creek Road (VA-615).
Craig Creek Road is another terrific ride. This road zigzags its way alongside what I presume was Craig Creek. It's a winding, well paved road with one significant hazard. Watch out for the deer. It was late morning by the time I had the pleasure of enjoying this road, and I still counted 13 deer through the middle stretch (6 or 7 miles) of the 25 miles.
Craig Creek Road brought me into New Castle and onto my next notable road, state highway, VA-42. By the way, Craig Creek Road continues south of New Castle as VA-621. I opted to grab VA-42 instead, but I suspect Craig Creek Road remains a great ride. VA-42 carried me up the hill out of New Castle to a beautiful overlook of the town and valley below. I snapped a couple of pictures and continued southwest on VA-42 for the next 30 miles winding my way, up and down, through the Virginia hills and the cool mist that settled over the top of the hills.
VA-42 dropped me out on US-460 and after crossing the New River three times, I rode into a quaint little town called Narrows, VA. Narrows sits at the confluence of Wolf Creek and New River, which gets me to my next road, Wolf Creek Road (VA-61). As before, Wolf Creek Road made its trek along the banks of Wolf Creek, crossing over from time to time, but always offering the fun and thrill of a snaky road with big sweeping curves and a few tight twists. Twenty miles later Wolf Creek Road delivered me into Tazewell, VA.
By this time my stomach was beginning to give the orders and it was time to grab some grub. I pulled into the local Sonic and gobbled up an order of chicken nuggets and a large drink. I met a local biker at Sonic and got the chance to discuss my route south to Cumberland Gap, Tennessee. He provided some insight into the area roads and I was able to settle on a route that would allow me to make up some time and still squeeze in at least one more back road before dark.
US-19 combines with US-460 and runs southwest out of Tazewell, so that was my escape route. About 15 miles down south of Tazewell US-460 splits off and heads west and US-19 continues its march southwest taking me into Hansonville and hooking me up with Alternate US-58 (US-58 Alt). US-58 Alt got me as far as Banners Corner before I decided it was time to get off the major roads and back to my roots. I turned south onto VA-65 and passed through towns named Mew, Sunny Point, Dungannon, Fort Blackmore, and Clinchport before hitting the real (versus Alternate) US-58.
US-58 gave me the chance to make up some more time. US-58 is called the Daniel Boone Heritage Highway along these parts and led me right to Cumberland Gap. I visited Cumberland Gap for the first time several years ago and remembered it as a nice small town squeezed in by shear rock walls on the northern side of town. Since the afternoon had been steadily getting warmer, the Cumberland Gap Drug Store seemed like the perfect place to grab a banana milk shake from the old-fashioned soda counter and take a break in the shade. After polishing off my banana shake, I rode out of Cumberland, crossing back into Virginia and then back into Tennessee again. About three miles south of Cumberland Gap, I turned onto state highway, TN-63 and took it southwest toward Caryville. I made a gas stop in La Follette.
I filled the bike, rode over to the shady side of the parking lot, and went inside to grab a cold drink and a candy bar. While I sat on the bike relaxing two cute girls made their way over to talk. I'm guessing they were either in high school or recently out of high school, but either way my trouble radar set off loud alarms.
Tonya was petite with beautiful hazel eyes. Her blonde hair was braided in two long ponytails hanging over each shoulder and tucked under a straw cowboy hat. She wore a pair of jeans and a long white lacy see-through blouse over a blue undershirt. She struck the pose of the perfect cowgirl.
Heather was a tall drink of water, probably about 5-feet 9-inches and was wearing one of those tiny jean skirts with a black Ramone's tee-shirt. She had long brown hair that hung loosely down her back and matched her caramel colored eyes. And, most importantly, she had attitude.
Heather walked straight to me and introduced the duo. She had an air of confidence that I found fascinating for a girl her age. I couldn't help but admire her poise and self-assurance. She began asking me the usual questions you get from people you run into on the road; where are you from, where are you going, etc. I gave my usual brief answers, still wary about why these two local beauties decided they needed to talk to me so bad.
I finally got my answer when I asked them, “So, what are you two up to this afternoon?”
This is when Tonya joined in the conversation and told me they were planning a party for that evening. This made a fine segue for Heather to ask the burning question that was on their mind; “Would you buy us some beer for the party? We'll pay for it, we just need you to go in and buy it.”
Bingo, there is was! I politely declined and explained that I did'‚t need to risk spending a night in a northern Tennessee county jail. I know I had to be a huge disappointment to them. But, even though they were cute as could be, I passed. Hell, I didn't even take pictures of them because I figured I'd get a call from some pissed off daddy in Tennessee, if he saw his little girl's picture on Bikernet.com. All I can say is the boys in Campbell County Tennessee (and every county around it) better watch out because I'm guessing these girls can turn boys inside out. It makes me grateful that I have three sons and no daughters.
I rode away leaving lovely Tonya and Heather to figure out who their next mark might be and continued down the road another 5 or 6 miles to Caryville. I reached Caryville much earlier in the day than I had planned. It was only about 5:30 when I rode into the Econo Lodge parking lot. I hate wasting one or two hours of daylight, but since it was already after 4PM it was too late to cancel the reservation I made the day before.
I walked into the lobby and was greeted by a plump middle-aged woman named Daisy. I requested a ground floor room, but there weren't any available. Daisy found a room on the 2nd floor, but a whisper from behind the office door suggested that room might not be a good choice since the A/C was out. Daisy tried another room only to hear the same whisper again. Finally, she settled on a room approved by the whisper behind the creaking door.
I unloaded the saddlebags from my bike and trudged up the stairs to my room. When I opened the door the first thing I noticed was the headboard laying on top of the bed where it apparently had landed when it fell off the wall. I don't know if it was raucous sex in my room or the room next door that did the headboard in, but I knew I didn't want to be the guy to pay for it. I called Daisy and let her know the headboard would be sitting in the floor. She offered another room, but I told her that wasn't necessary and asked her to make sure I didn't get charged for any room damages.
After taking a few minutes to relax, I decided to get something to eat. I read about Rickard Ridge BBQ and decided that was where I'd try my luck for dinner. It turned out to be an excellent choice. Rickard Ridge BBQ is located just inside the grounds of Cove Lake State Park. The only downside, they don't serve any alcoholic beverages, but I managed to thoroughly enjoy the Top Combo and wash it down with a couple of lemonades.
The Rickard Ridge Top Combo is listed as, “the meal of a lifetime.” It's made up of a rack of ribs, pulled pork BBQ, and Rickard Ridge's famous chicken thighs, not to mention the side dishes of slaw, baked beans, potato salad, sweet potato fries and a dinner roll. Oh man, was that a good meal.
The parking lot of the Econo Lodge was filled with pickup trucks and beer drinking patrons when I returned. I assume several of them were living at the motel while working in the local area. I looked at that as a good sign, and figured I picked the right spot to spend the night. Directly across the street is the Quik Stop BBQ Market & Deli. I understand they serve up some really good BBQ also, but I used it as a beer stop instead. I grabbed a couple of large cans of Coors Light and walked back across the street to enjoy a relaxing evening stretched out on the bed and watching some mindless entertainment on TV after 525 miles for the day.
The night was extremely quiet. Most of the guests were workers who began moving about and rolling out early the next morning. This made it easy for me to get a good night's sleep and hit the road early myself. I had about 550 miles to go to get to my folks place in southern Alabama and that assumed I went the direct route (which by now you know wasn't likely). I turned it into a 600-mile day that included some time wandering around Conecuh County, Alabama.
I rode south out of Caryville on TN-116. In Lake City TN-116 swings to the southwest and traverses the central Tennessee hills. Shortly outside of Lake City I passed a sign indicating twisting turns for the next 25 miles. Sweet, my kind of road. Unfortunately, I was only on the road for 6 or 7 miles after seeing the sign, but it was still a great ride in the early morning. I turned southwest on TN-330 at the crossroads called Dutch Valley while TN-116 continued its winding way to the northwest. I've got to get back and finish the rest of TN-116 one day.
TN-330 connected me with TN-61 in Oliver Springs. I continued on TN-61 southwest to Interstate 40. I jumped on I-40 for the 18-mile ride to Cox Valley Road and TN-68. These two roads took me to US-127 and TN-28. This was my uneventful route south for the next 70 miles as I passed through the Sequatchie Valley. I hooked up with I-24 for a short distance to US-72 and took it south out of Tennessee and into northern Alabama.
US-72 crossed Jackson County from the northeast to the southwest as it followed the Tennessee River toward Scottsboro. Just south of Scottsboro I split off of US-72 and onto AL-79. AL-79 continues southwest along the shores of Guntersville Lake and into Guntersville, AL. From Guntersville, I took AL-69 to Cullman, AL.
Cullman is my grandfather's hometown. I'm sure I still have relatives in town, but that wasn't the reason I decided to pass through. I can remember making a trip to Cullman when I was about 10-years-old. That was more than a couple of decades ago, but I remembered visiting the Ave Maria Grotto on the grounds of Saint Bernard Abbey, a Benedictine Monastery. Brother Joseph Zoettl built over 125 miniature reproductions of famous churches, shrines and buildings encompassing an area of over three acres. Brother Joseph continued his work for over 40 years, using materials sent from all over the world. He built his last model, the Basilica in Lourdes, at the age of 80, in 1958. The miniatures are very detailed and it makes for an interesting stop to admire the art and patience of Brother Joseph.
As usual, I was running behind schedule by the time I finished touring the grounds of Ave Maria Grotto, so I decided to jump on Interstate 65 and haul ass south to make up for the day's leisurely pace. I still had about 350 miles to go and I was burnin' daylight. Shoot, I even bypassed a stop at the local Hooters in Pelham.
After a couple hundred miles of I-65 I needed a break from the interstate. I took exit 114 and rode into Georgiana, Alabama for a quick photo-op at the Hank Williams Sr. Boyhood Home and Museum. I didn't have time for a visit, but would have liked to walk around and see what they had to offer. Maybe I can work in a visit some other time.
I rode south on US-31 out of Georgiana. A few miles south of Georgiana US-31 takes a turn to the right. That's the turn I missed. I actually saw the turn at the last minute, but decided, “What the hell, I'm still going south, so I'll just keep going.” My southern route was on AL-55 and it quickly changed from a southern route to an east-southeast route. Not the end of the world, but not really the direction I needed to be going. Thus began my exploration of Conecuh County Alabama.
I followed AL-55 down to US-84 with a slight detour through a little town called Red Level, Alabama. Having traveled across Alabama on US-84 before I knew it ran west and would eventually take me back to US-31 and I-65 both. Common sense would have told you to stay on US-84 and get back on track, but that would have been too easy.
Instead, I decided to turn left onto County Road (CR) 21 and see where that would take me. CR-21 ran into CR-7 about 4 miles later. CR-7 just happens to be the road I was on while I made my detour through Red Level, but I had no idea at the time that it was a short cut down to US-84.
CR-21 separates from CR-7 very quickly and I continued on it because it was basically running in the general direction I needed to go. That seemed like a good idea until another 4 miles produced the dreaded, “Pavement Ends” sign. Shit, here we go again. There's nothing like riding a 700 lb Harley on a dirt road. To make matters worse the dark clouds were blowing in from the east and swirling around the outer edges of tropical storm Fay.
I crossed Bull Slough on a wooden, one-lane bridge with runners for the car tires. I picked the runner on the right side of the bridge and managed to avoid focusing on the runner itself (a sure fire way to make you fall off of it.) I only had to navigate a couple of miles of dirt road before I linked up with CR-43. CR-43 carried me into Brooklyn, Alabama which really isn't a town, but more of a crossroad.
As I prepared to turn left onto Brooklyn Road I noticed a train of ATVs headed my way. Each ATV carried a teenage boy with his girlfriend firmly squeezed against his back. Everyone had a Coors Light in their hands and I'm guessing they were headed for a fun time somewhere on the creek. Envious of their good time and the fact that they knew where they were, I fell in behind them and slowly rode into Brooklyn.
It turned out I could have continued down CR-43 and eventually met up with US-29. But, I didn't know that at the time and instead chose the chicken shit option of going west on CR-6 knowing I'd eventually hit US-31 in Castleberry. Both US-31 and US-29 will take you into Brewton, so I eventually made it back to known highways and continued on my trek to Foley where my folks live.
US-31 took me to Bay Minette, the county seat of Baldwin County Alabama, where I grew up. AL-59, or the Gulf Shores Parkway as they call it today, takes you into Foley. I arrived about 7:30 that evening and covered 600-plus miles in 14 hours or so. Day Two was officially complete and somehow, other than a few drops of rain here and there, I managed to make it before any nasty weather from Fay arrived.
A 600-mile day under my belt; 1125 miles for the trip so far and nothing but fun. God, I love to ride!
Here's a preview of my Hooters visit in Mobile. Gerri took good care of me for the afternoon.
–Chuck
criddle123@earthlink.net
