Existing In BFE

If you were expecting Flashback Friday, then you might be disappointed.  This seemed like a great day to wrap up the Great Trip North Adventure 2013.  Flashback will return next Friday.  DAY THREE Up early in Tifton, Georgia along Interstate 75.  My usual routine is to get the bike packed and ride in the dark for a while for a change of pace.  My luggage affixed, my antler well secured, it is time to get out of long-ass Georgia and into Florida.  I begin thinking about all kinds of things:  I wonder where Norah is this morning?  Can I stop by and see her?  It will be nice to sleep in my own bed.  What did I miss?  Can I turn around and do it again? Then it happens.  I had not been on the road long, but long enough to want to end the trip and rest.  About 2-5 miles north of the I-75/I-10 interchange I begin getting a little vibration from the front tire.  Kind of like when you are on grooved or rough pavement.  I slow up a bit, and think, this is odd.  It's not

Day Two saw me arise early and re-load the bike for our next leg of the journey.  On Jeff's Harley-Davidson atlas he let me borrow, I noticed a pretty scenic road from South of Chattanooga that wound all the way down through Georgia that would allow me to sidetrack Atlanta, the Wicked Mother of all traffic miseries.  I just had to get through Nashville, the Wicked Aunt of all Traffic Miseries.  I was up just as the sun was starting to filter in the sky and since I was just a short jaunt to Nashville, I assumed that traffic would be light.  I assumed somewhat wrongly.  Who are all these people running around at 5:30 in the morning?  Cars, trucks, campers, I guess they all had the same plan I did.   It was somewhat harrowing, and my pit juice had failed to hold back the waters, but I survived and now headed down interstate 57 to Chattanooga and then, off to Route 23 over the Smokies.   Once again, it was travel day and I did precious little sightseeing.  I was a man with a missi

I had allotted plenty of time for the trip.  My only guide was that I wanted to be back in Florida by the 4th of July.  No particular reason, but maybe a nagging need to see Miss Norah, again.  The day comes when you have spent all your money, and done everything on your list, or almost everything, and it seems as good a time as any to take off.   Mr. Sutor had wanted to meet up on my trip up but the logistics didn't work out, so he wanted to escort me for a few hours down the long state of Illinois.  We had originally picked a route (67) that would take us down past St. Louis and to Chester, Missouri.  from there, it is a scenic drive through Cairo and then on to Paducah.  Never having been to Cairo I was looking forward to it and that scenic stretch along the Mississippi.  But, alas, the threat of rain propelled me to change our plans and Jeff recommended Route 51 which would take us through Decatur, Pana and a bunch of other towns I'd never heard of.  Like Clinton, Mowe

Midwest Skies People talk about how nice Florida sunsets are, and it's pretty well true.  But for spectacular colors any time of cloudy day, there's nothing quite like the Midwest.  Down here if a bag forms in the West you may get 4 or 5 minutes of rain, then sweltering heat and humidity.  But up North, a bag could mean an all-day rain, a gullywasher complete with anything.  Florida just has squeaks for storms.  Just like that they are over.    Here are some random pics I took of the North and its skies.   Beautiful skies if not artfully photographed.

It has been a long time since I have participated in my Club's annual car show at the end of June.  I wanted to go to Sturgis on the River and, because I bought an old classic, to attend Railroad Days Car Show.   The previous Tuesday I went out to Burgess to caress, pet, and otherwise be intimate with my new metal love.  I think she is gorgeous and has all the right curves.      I went over to pick her up and naturally I was a bit apprehensive since this was our first date, so to speak.  She had already proven to be difficult to start without Marvin's $100 dollar can of starter juice.  He told me to take it just in case.  I rather thought that after a trip over to G-Burg that might keep gas in the carb so I wouldn't be embarrassed by having to use ether.   I'm kind of crazy about Imperials.  I had a '61 for a few years and loved it and certainly bought into their advertising that stated they were America's Best Made Car.   This '65 was