"The Good Companions:"
I won't compare our happy band to the malcontents of JB Priestley's 1929 novel (written coincidentally in Deal, Kent, where Sylvia spent her childhood, all those years ago). Admittedly, his characters were also middle aged and seeking adventure on the road!
They may both be members of "the lost tribe," but no, they're not sisters!image
The bike sits and waits....
So the trusty iron horse is sitting impatiently, waiting for a mate to arrive so that she can be unleashed on the road - and head west after the sun!! The team has been carefully selected; a doctor to tell you when are ill, a nurse to actually look after you when you are ill, a financial adminstrator to look after the money bags and a submarine captain to..... well I'm sure we'll all have a part to play...
So, needless to say it wasn't quite as easy to pick up a big ol' Harley Davidson as the brouchure suggested. And the helmets that were provided bore more resemblance to a rabbi's skull cap than a safety device. So 2 new helmets for Stuart and Sylvia, a couple of hours of admin - and we were nearly ready. Has anybody seen the film Transformers - that bright yellow car Bumblebee (ie the alien in earth form) looks suspiciously similar to the rental bike. Perhaps it will turn into a space ship and save us from mad American truck drivers....
A new day, and a new hotel receptionist: this one bright, cheerful and pleasant - which proved to be a good indication of the day ahead. We filled up with gas (American for petrol) and after 88 quick miles, we reached the Skyline Drive, which took us through Shenandoah National Park. Forty miles of wonderful riding and beautiful scenery, were possibly bettered by the following 27 miles along the Blue Ridge Parkway. This was biking at its best, but as we travelled through the Blue Ridge mountains, we searched in vain for the lonesome pine!
The IT nearly beat us - but not quite.The late photos as promosed. Will try to do better:
Hey - bluegrass music actually sounds pretty good when it's on its own turf!
This looks like a good place for a group photo.
A long old day on the road.Today was all about making distance west - towards Nashville where we need to be on Tuesday evening. Careful route planning bit the dust yesterday - but a night in a recommended log cabin in the mountains definitely made it worthwhile. The cost was an extra 60 miles today on an already long programmed route. We clocked up 290 miles in the day - which for the non-motorcyclists amongst you means (a) a lot of bugs on the windshield and in your teeth (b) a big test of matrimonial harmony and (c) a seriously numb rear end.
And so on to the home of Country music.Today we journeyed from Jonesborough - the oldest town in Tennessee, with picturesque character buildings along the main street - to Nashville, the home of Country music. The route was largely on the Interstate, as we needed to arrive in good time to get to the Grand Ole Opry, for which Mandy-Jane and Craig had booked tickets. Don't know what the Grand Ole Opry is? It's the oldest live radio show, running continuously every week for nearly 88 years!
Park the bikes - it's time for a day of rest in Nashville.So that was the day of rest from the road. But Nashville is not a city designed to let you sleep. There are probably 2 ways to do this city; the guided tour which the hotel tried to force upon us. Or the follow your nose method - or more precisely your ears - they don't call it Music City for nothing! We chose the latter. You may not think that you are a great Country Music fan, but if anything is going to change your mind then the Nashville Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum is the place.
It's the middle of the day on Thursday, and we're in Tennessee ... chugging to Chattanooga.It's the middle of the day on Thursday, and we're in Tennessee ... chugging to Chattanooga. The temperature guage is nudging ninety (Fahrenheit), and the scorching sun is right above. The sky is the palest powder blue, with just a few thin cotton ball clouds, and we see turkey headed vultures riding the up draughts above.
If one looks at a map and plans a sensible route from Chattanooga (Tennessee) to Robbinsville (North Carolina) there is no logical reason to go through Georgia.......If one looks at a map and plans a sensible route from Chattanooga (Tennessee) to Robbinsville (North Carolina) there is no logical reason to go through Georgia. But there again this trip isnt really about being sensible or logical, and from the British travellers point of view you have to go to Georgia its where rednecks come from isnt it?
The rain started to fall here in Buffalo Creek in the early hours of the morning, and as we rose and enjoyed a hearty breakfast, the rain was coming down straight as stair rods. The flow was increasing in the creek which runs just a few feet from the porch, and none of us felt like going ahead with our plan for today: to ride the Tail of the Dragon.
318 curves in 11 miles. No wonder the motorcyclists of America flock to the "Tail of the Dragon."Last nights update was posted prior to the main event of the evening the Buffalo Creek B&B weekly campfire for friends and neighbours. Great crack; but sadly rain stopped play just as the jumbuck was being stuffed into the tucker bag during Stuarts unique rendition of the Waltzing Matilda. Perhaps it was just as well that the rain arrived; with both Stuart and Craigs vocal chords warmed up the poor old locals might have been in trouble!
Our stop last night in the Best Western hotel in Seneca, South Carolina, was 50 odd miles short of our intended destination. Although that meant we had to make up those miles today, we didn't mind at all - the ride yesterday was just so superb. A group of bikers were also staying overnight at the same hotel, and we chatted to them after returning from our evening meal. As always, they were very friendly, and we shared our experiences of the day with them, as they were heading to where we had come from, namely Deal's Gap and the Tail of the Dragon.
Tourists in Charleston.It was with muted enthusiasm that we set off this morning. We were not immediately headig off to our next adventure, but rather to the Harley D dealer so that the Fulton bike (codename Bluebird) could be repaired. There is a joke commonly told by Japanese bike riders which was on our minds: did you know that of all the Harley Ds ever built 98% are still on the road? Only 2% made it home.. Ho ho. The nice man said it would be $200 to run the diagnostics and he would call us with the news. Then it was time for a taxi into Charleston cental.
Back on the road again. Heading north along the coast.Today is Wednesday, and we left Charleston after a leisurely start, taking the scenic route already planned by Craig, and endorsed by Greg our guide yesterday. After a while, we found a quiet section of road, and stopped to take photos of each other riding past. As we did so, the road suddenly got a lot busier! A good number of those that passed us, stopped to check we were all right - it was another demonstration of the kindness of strangers, which we have seen so many times on this tour.
Sadly we have reached the last full day of the trip....Our hotel in Wrightsville last night was .em . different. Whilst it was one of the most expensive that we have stayed in on this trip, and was in a superb location, it had a curiously seedy feel to it. Rusty unpainted elevators, for example, and bare concrete steps between floors. The attendant (given the utilitarian nature of his office that term seems somehow more appropriate than concierge or receptionist) found it rather extravagant that 2 couples would want 2 rooms when there were four beds in each!
The gang arrives back at base camp. This morning, we augmented the modest offering supplied by the motel with muffins and some excellent coffee from the coffee house two doors away, and enjoyed our breakfast "sitting on the dock of the bay." After a quick walk to a British War Graves Commission cemetery, where four Royal Navy men were buried, after their anti-submarine converted trawler was torpedoed by a U boat with the loss of all hands, we packed up and left Ocracoke harbour. We had all agreed that this had been an excellent place to stay - such a perfect location.
So just to sum all that up....So that was that then. This time last week we were waking up in the Buffalo Creek Bed & Breakfast with ice cream muesli and grits for breakfast, overlooking a babbling brook in the heart of the Smokie Mountains. The prospect of another week on the road stretched out ahead for the seasoned explorers. And now we are home, and its back to work tomorrow. Only one night in our own bed and the whole thing seems like a bit of a distant memory.
When we started to consider crossing of the USA by Harley Davidson motorcycles, and more recently began planning this trip, we knew we were going to have an adventure, something really special. We hoped it would be worth sharing with family and friends, and that's why we set up this blog.
At times, after a long day, it was a bit of an effort to do the daily blog entry, but it was a good way to consolidate the events of the day, and the "bedtime story" ritual became an event in itself.