Continued from 12 August 2013 Post...
Friday, 12 October 2012
At 5:00 I woke-up to the sound of a torrential downpour. It's amazing how loud rain can be in an otherwise silent cabin. I thought for a moment that his wasn't the best way to start the day but quickly realized how blessed I was...I was originally going to camp in my tent. I rolled over and went back to sleep hoping the rain would pass through before my planned 8:00 a.m departure time.
When I got up at 6:30 it was still raining pretty hard and every now and then lightening lit up the dark sky. The thunder sometimes rattled the windows and I could feel the cabin shake around me. It was peaceful listening to the rain on the cabin's metal roof. As the clocked ticked past 7:00 and the rain continued, I decided that it wouldn't be the end of the world if I didn't leave at 8:00. I ate a Snickers Almond candy bar and realized this was what people meant when they say, "It's not about the destination, it's about the journey." I was definitely on a journey.
It was still raining at 10:30 and check-out was at 11:00 so I accepted the fact that I was going to ride in the rain. By the time I loaded the bike and donned my rain suit it was 11:15. I cautiously headed for the ranger station as the roads in the campground were narrow and had standing water in several low lying areas. I dropped off my cabin key and made my way back to the Trace. I rode in a steady rain for about an hour. I was nervous at first but quickly gained confidence. I was fortunate my first rain experience was on the Trace because there was very little traffic and the speed limit was only 50.
As I got over my fear of riding in the rain, I was able to enjoy the ride. The sights along the way were beautiful and the fresh smell of the air after the rain was amazing. I'm not sure I've ever felt quite as free and alive. I stopped several times to take pictures...a gorgeous overlook, an interesting historical site, and several places along the side of the road. I thought about stopping more but was mindful of my late start. I pressed ahead.
I had originally planned to be in Canton, Mississippi at the Ratliff Ferry campground by 5:00 but didn't get there until 7:00. I didn't want to set-up camp in the dark so I decided to go another 25 miles down the Trace to Jackson, Mississippi and look for a cheap hotel. Riding the Trace after dark was nerve racking. With only two lanes, no shoulder, and heavy tree cover 15-25 feet from the edge of the road I was ever mindful of the collision hazard posed by wildlife. I saw several deer, a fox, and what I think was a raccoon. By the time I exited the Trace in Jackson at 7:35 I was ready to get off the bike. I quickly found a "cheap" hotel and unloaded the bike. Even with the morning rain, it had been an excellent day of riding.
Saturday, 13 October 2012
I left the hotel at 8:00 and headed for breakfast. It was a glorious morning. The sky was clear and the air was crisp…perfect riding weather. As I ate my egg McMuffin and drank my orange juice I had mixed emotions. I was happy for the opportunity to complete the Trace but somewhat saddened by the thought of my adventure coming to an end. With only 103 miles before reaching Natchez, Mississippi my time on the Trace would soon be over and I would make my way back to the Interstate and my next overnight stop, Lake Charles, Louisiana. At least I’ll be riding I thought.
By 8:40 I was on the Trace making my way south to Natchez. Everything about the ride was magnificent. The morning sunlight filtered through the trees and the cool breeze made the leaves fall to the ground like snowflakes. I felt very much alive and connected with my surroundings…I felt close to God. It was spiritual.
I stopped several times to take pictures and to enjoy the beauty around me. The entire Natchez Trace Parkway is steeped in history. From beginning-to-end there are numerous pull-offs with signs and displays of historical significance. The Chickasaw, Choctaw, and Natchez Indians thrived around the Trace and left behind built-up mounds where they erected temples. The Trace served as an early trade and postal route and was used for troop movements during the civil war. At one stop, I could feel the eerie presence of those who travelled before me as I walked along a short portion of the original trail known as the Sunken Trace. At Mount Locust (one of the oldest structures still in existence in all of Mississippi), I could almost hear the voices of the travelers who stayed there during the early 1800s.
100 miles went by in a blink of an eye and I found myself at the southern terminus of the Natchez Trace Parkway. It was somewhat anti-climatic as there was no large structure or crowd of cheering people to commemorate my ride…just a sign on the northbound side saying “Entering Natchez Trace Parkway”. I stopped briefly to take a picture of the sign and to turn on my GPS. I exited the Trace and focused my attention on the next leg of my trip. I followed my GPS’s directions across the mighty Mississippi River into Louisiana.
I rode about 10 miles down LA131 before deciding I might be in trouble. I had crossed into Louisiana so quickly I hadn’t stopped for gas in Natchez…and now I was literally in the middle of nowhere. There were no signs of civilization to be seen. I pressed ahead thinking that there would be a town just around the bend but there was nothing. My concern over running out of gas distracted me from a great ride through the Three Rivers Wildlife Management Area. Several bridges and a hydroelectric plant made for great photo opportunities but I didn’t stop, I was too focused on my trip odometer and watching the miles slowly pile up. I had never ridden over 150 miles without stopping for gas and I was getting nervous. When the trip odometer read 170, I said a prayer and relegated myself to the fact that I might end up stranded on the side of the road. Then I saw it.
I pulled into Lucky13 after having ridden 172 miles since my last fill-up. I was relieved. I don’t know how many more miles I could have gone but was thankful I didn’t have to find out. I gassed up and decided to eat some lunch at the restaurant inside. The chicken fingers and side of red beans and rice were excellent. I checked the weather forecast along my route before leaving. The weather looked good all the way to San Antonio, Texas but only for the rest of the day. Sunday’s forecast indicated there was a high probability of rain from Houston to San Antonio. I began to think I might need to forego camping overnight at Sam Houston Jones State Park in Lake Charles and make my way home.
The state roads from Lucky13 to I-49 left a lot to be desired. I’m not sure there was a single mile of smooth asphalt in the 60 or so miles I rode to get to I-49. By the time I reached the Interstate I felt like I’d been beaten. Needless to say, the Interstate was a welcomed sight. It’s amazing how fast 75 mph seems after going 45-55. The miles were flying by and before I knew it I had reached I-10 and was on my way to Lake Charles.
Somewhere along I-10 I decided I would definitely skip camping at Lake Charles and get as far down the road before nightfall as I could. I figured that if it did rain in the morning, I’d be that much closer to home. I stopped in Westlake, Louisiana (west of Lake Charles) for gas and quickly got back on the Interstate. The slow, leisurely pace I enjoyed while on the Trace was over. I was in mile eating mode and focused on covering as much distance as possible in the shortest amount of time. I let out a little “Ye Haw” when I crossed the Texas state line and kept on the throttle. Riding at Interstate speeds is tiring but a lot of fun.
I stopped at a McDonalds in Katy, Texas (west of Houston) just before sunset. I was hungry and physically drained. I ordered a Big Mac and a PowerAde. They hit the spot and after a short rest I felt rejuvenated. I had spotted several hotels when I pulled-in and was now ready to call it a day but decided to check the weather first. The probability of rain in the morning all the way from Houston to San Antonio had increased. I was faced with a choice; continue to San Antonio in the dark or wait until morning and most likely ride in the rain.
I chose to ride in the dark. Although my visibility would be reduced and the hazards of wildlife encounters were higher, I wouldn’t have to deal with both reduced traction and visibility…not to mention being uncomfortably warm in my rain suit. Keeping an attentive eye for both traffic and wildlife helped the 166 miles from Katy to San Antonio to go quickly. My mind did play a couple of visual tricks on me…most notably when I crossed Allen Creek. At first, I thought the sign read “Alien” Creek and I began to wonder if there had been some type of alien encounter in the area. Anything to pass the time, I suppose.
I pulled into my driveway at 10:30 after having spent 14 hours making a push for home. I felt a huge sense of accomplishment. I unloaded the bike and went to bed…with a big ass smile on my face! J
My first long distance motorcycle road trip was complete.
Epilogue
Over the course of 5 days I rode some 2,300 miles across 8 states. I rode in hot weather, cold weather, in rain, and at night…and I believe I’m a better rider and person because of the experience. I learned that having a ride plan is good but that you shouldn’t stress over deviating from it. More importantly, I gained a healthy appreciation of motorcycle travel and came to realize there is an enormous difference between riding by and riding through.
In a car, bus, train, or plane we ride by…separated from our surroundings by a cage of metal, glass, and plastic. We are isolated from the environment. We are just on-lookers, not active participants. On a motorcycle, we ride through. We are one with our surroundings able to truly experience the sights, sounds, and smells of everything around us. We can feel the wind, the heat, the cold, the rain…we are active participants, vulnerable, unencumbered. Riding through means feeling more connected, more alive, and more free.
They say you always remember your first time. I know that’s true. My first long distance ride was awesome and I’m already looking forward to the next one. Watch for me on the road…I’ll be riding through!
_______________________________
It’s official; I received my Iron Butt Association Saddlesore 1000 certificate this past weekend from the certification ride I completed in May. I’m now a member of the Iron Butt Association (IBA), member number 56055. I know it’s just a certificate, but I’m proud of the accomplishment. Not everyone is bold enough (okay, maybe crazy enough) to attempt to ride a motorcycle 1000 miles in under 24 hours. I can say, it wasn’t overly difficult but I did have to pace myself…especially in the 106-degree heat in West Texas. I believe if you’re truly determined to stay in the saddle mile after mile, in fair shape, and don’t have any underlying medical issues; anyone can safely cover the distance in the allotted time. The thing is, most just don’t have the desire and/or determination. 
