Art of the Barber and Beyond
We got to Memphis in the early, very hot, afternoon. I'd heard that the Art of the Motorcycle exhibit was in town at a place called the Pyramid. When I asked where the Pyramid was, they just said, go downtown and you can't miss it.
Well, no kidding. As we were rolling across the bridge from Arkansas, a huge pyramidal structure came into view on the opposite bank. This, obviously, was the Pyramid.
We paid our $15 admittance fees and a $2 photo fee and went on in. We had parked on the wrong side of the building and by the time we walked to the correct side we were dripping in sweat. So we were very happy, in fact nearly ecstatic, that the Pyramid and the exhibit were air conditioned.
The Art of the Motorcycle is an exhibit that originally displayed at the Guggenheim museum in New York quite a few years ago. A somewhat reduced number of bikes make up the traveling exhibit, which is still amazing. It traces the development of motorcycles from bicycles with motors strapped on to the plastic wrapped carbon fibered multi-valved monsters of today. The exhibits are laid out in chronological order.
My personal favorites run from about 1930 to 1973 and there were plenty of representatives.
A nice feature of the exhibit is the fact that the bikes are on stands you can completely circle, so the motorcycles can be examined from all angles and views.
We thoroughly enjoyed the exhibit, even though we cruised through fairly quickly.
After meandering our way out of Memphs via side streets to avoid the interstate rush hour crush, we headed down 78 into Mississippi where we spent one more night in a hotel. 78 intersects I-20 in Birmingham and we headed east towards Georgia, Dad's destination.
Just outside of Birmingham we pulled off to fill up with gas. Coming down the off ramp, I saw a sign for Barber Motorsports. I knew the complex was in Alabama but didn't know it was right here. I told Dad we were taking a little side trip.
This place is amazing. The building housing the museum is a 5 level multimillion dollar glass steel and concrete construction with motorcycles everywhere....
The Art of the Motorcycle exhibit was no slouch but this place had at least 4 times as many motorcycles.
There was a definite racing focus, with many pedigreed race winning bikes.
Like the other exhibit, there was everything from motorized bicycles to modern bikes, with plenty of vintage British iron for me to drool on.
Specials weren't neglected either - here's a nice NorVin (Vincent motor in a Norton frame).
I don't know where the Barber money came from but they sure spent a ton of it amassing this amazing collection. If you're anywhere near, I strongly suggest touring the facility.
After burning up the batteries in my digital camera and tiring myself out from jumping up and down going "Ooh! Ooh! Look!", we continued our journey into Georgia.
Dad and I split in Athens with plans to meet at the house in Hartwell for dinner. After a brief expedition in downtown Athens, I headed up 29 towards Hartwell. This was a major trip on memory lane for me - I went past my old machine shop, the road towards my old house, the hospital where my friend Ray worked, etc. Seems like I used to know the stories and who lived where for half the houses on this stretch of road.
Another amazing coincidence - as I rolled up 29, Driving and Crying's "Straight to Hell" came on the radio. If there was a soundtrack for me in Athens in the early to mid nineties, that was it. Hearing it while tripping down memory lane gave me the shivers.
I stopped in Royston at The Bike Shop and visited with my friend Johnny, telling him about our trip. Eventually I made it to Hartwell for dinner and later back to Athens for drinks.
The next day, after I had my traditional Taco Stand lunch with my friend Neal, I headed up 441. In Maggie Valley I again visited the Wheels Through Time museum since I had a free pass from my previous visit. I spent the night in Hot Springs after a refreshing midnight swim in the river and multiple adult malted beverages at the Paddler's Pub.
Leaving the next morning I headed up 208 towards Greenville, TN, with the intent of catching I-81 northwards. I stopped in Virginia to gas up and consider my options. Getting in touch with a friend in DC, I made plans to spend the night there.
Immediately after getting back on the interstate, I could tell that something was wrong...the back end of the bike wanted to steer itself. What the heck. I pulled over to the side and took a look.
Flat tire.
On Sunday.
Oh no.
I rode on the flat for a mile to the next exit and made it to a gas station where I grabbed the phone book and my cell phone. Once again, HD to the rescue. There was a dealership 10 miles back on the interstate. Normally their service department wasn't open on Sundays but there happened to be a tech there doing some work. We loaded my bike into the trailer and took it back to the shop where I had new rear rubber installed. I was out of there and back on the road in a couple of hours.
Made it to DC only a few hours behind schedule and stayed up late drinking beer, playing guitar, and telling stories. This morning I'm taking advantage of the high speed internet connection for this update and then I believe I'll head down town and look around. I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian. Eventually I'll end up in upstate New York to visit my grandparents.