I awoke to the sound of pouring rain. Had a crappy hotel buffet breakfast, put on my rain gear and headed off towards Memphis. I was extremely happy to be on the bike again though. Talked to 3 women in the lobby the night before and 2 thought I was crazy, 1 loved the fact that I was doing it, and they all wrote down the website name. I thought about the fact that I was really doing this and forgot about the light rain.
After a few hours the rain stopped and I felt like Richard Simmons in a garbage bag. The skies were blue so I lost the suit. I was driving along the Kentucky scenic byway, and came across Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace so I stopped in for a quick tour. A monument was built which is pictured here. They put the smaller possible version of his childhood cabin inside. Either it is it or it isn’t, why don’t they just say its a guess.
About 45 mins later, the skies blackened and I thought I would re-suit at the next spot I could pull off. I passed that spot and after a quick bend in the road about 2,000 ft past the spot, I knew I was screwed. I stopped in the driveway of a small farm and started putting on the rain jacket as fast as any human could. As I started putting on the pants over my already dampened riding pants, the waterfall rolling off my helmet created a bit of a deluge around my eyes. But my persistent nature said “carry on!” so I did. About 1 min later, the velcroed sleeve that was slightly too loose for my liking was letting in a bit too much water, so I pulled over in the driveway of a fenced company, as I imagined they were all laughing at my misfortune. Now imagine, in a panic how long it would take you to fix the velcro on a single sleeve, maybe a few seconds you say? Well, it takes longer than the largest single gust of unenexpected wind to knock a man and his previously undropped motorcycle onto the ground. The rain and wind was now so hard that I quickly righted the bike got back on and didn’t care if anyone saw or not. It turns out that those few moments spent introducing the ground to the bike, saved me from a much worse fate. As I drove away from the scene, the road was littered with clumps of leaves still attached to full branches. Not little sticks, but full on timbers. Oncoming card were flashing their lights at me as a warning of the carnage lying ahead. I drove maybe another 2 miles and saw a small diner with a ton of work trucks, tree crews to be exact. I got off the bike and walked in. The cook handed me a towel right away, as they all saw me coming in. By the time I ate my lunch, blue skies again. As I ate, I saw the storm heading towards Memphis, so I changed direction to Nashville to avoid it. On the way there, the temps had hit 99°, and i found myself slightly wanting it to rain again, bit just lightly. Had 1 beer on the main drag, and continued on. I drove pretty far out of town and found a campground with only one other campsite taken. The person running the camp, Coleman (fitting, isn’t it) loved my ride plan and said he was inspired, and let me camp for free. I setup camp and went to a bar and grille nearby. Ordered a beer and was then told they a shutting down for the night, kitchen closed. There were 2 guys and the bartender and they asked about the bike and the bags. Told them about the plan or lack thereof and one asked if I was on Instagram, told him no, but gave him the website. Now I was out in the boonies, so ended up driving 12 miles away to get Subway. I hate Subway and soon enough was going to be eating it in my already set up tent at camp, in 90 heat at night. But I was finally camping!