Fall Ride 2013 - Day One - Saturday, 10/19/2013

In absolutely uncommon-for-me fashion, I arose at four o'clock in the morning to pull off a 6 a.m. meet-up with my fellow travelers so we could begin our day-long sojourn to the mountains of northern Georgia.

 

Keeping to the agreed upon schedule, I arrived at the rendezvous point about ten minutes early, gassed up the Triumph Trophy SE, and then waited for the others to arrive.

 

Sitting out in the cool morning air of the McDonald's parking lot I was feeling pretty smug about being the first one to arrive. This was a real accomplishment for me as I'm usually pushing the schedule to the last second...and sometimes beyond. So, it was truly satisfying to be sitting there as the first-to-arrive, the trailblazer, the trendsetter, the man who...and that's when I looked inside the McDonald's and saw Mr. Sarcasm in there calmly sipping coffee and reading a newspaper, the crumpled remains of McDonald's food wrappers littering the table before him. Oh, well, maybe next time!

 

The others arrived, we knocked out the small talk and reviewed the ride plan in short order. We went kickstands up and rolled onto Interstate 4 just about six o'clock in the morning. Things were off to a good start.

 

3.2 miles up the road, Eddie called for our first break of the day. Okay, maybe it was more like 20 miles up the road -- it was Pasco County, afterall -- but it sure felt like less than that. Let's call it a luggage check. Yeah, that's it, a "luggage check"! This too-soon-in-coming break was, thankfully, kept to a minimal amount of time and we were soon winging our way northward once more.

 

The darkness still enveloped the land as we rode north on I-75 from the Tampa area. Our goal for the day was to make it to Blairsville, Georgia, and the Copperhead Lodge, where we were slated to spend several days exploring the area and experiencing a loop-ride that has been dubbed, “The Gauntlet”.

 

As the minutes and the miles ticked by, I saw the first signs of the rising sun off to my right; a thin sliver of light tracing the horizon and backlighting flat, featureless land east of the highway. Off to my left the mist of early morning ground fog was clinging to the bases of trees like cotton batting. Sunrise is never so beautiful as when seen from the saddle of a motorcycle.

 

By ten in the morning our little band of motorcycle travelers crossed the state line into Georgia. The trip was in full swing as we were officially out of Florida. My thoughts began to drift ahead to visions of twisty asphalt and scenic mountain vistas...what the hell?!? Another break??? Yep!

 

Just a few miles over the state line into Georgia, Eddie signaled another departure from the Interstate and a halt to forward progress. This time it was for a little exercise I like to call "smuggler's run". In homage to Dragnet, we'll skip the details so as to protect the not-so-innocent. They know who they are and they know what they did. And they know they killed my forward progress to do it, dammit!

Finally back on the road, my thoughts returned to the mountains and the days of great riding that lay ahead. Motorcycle riding may be about the journey, but this time it was the destination that beckoned to me like a siren’s song, calling me closer and closer to a place where my soul would be renewed by cool air and curvy roads.

 

There were other diversions along the way. We got stuck in downtown Atlanta post-crash traffic for every bit of an hour. We lost Mr. Sarcasm. Mr. Sarcasm found us. Or, perhaps, we found Mr. Sarcasm despite his best efforts to the contrary. We stopped for someone to eat brought-from-home, picnic chicken that was consumed in the parking lot of a Chic-fil-a restaurant. And, of course, we stopped for the periodic and necessary refills of our gas tanks.

 

Twelve hours and 566 miles later, we finally pulled into the parking lot of the Copperhead Lodge in Blairsville, Georgia. It was time for some much needed rest.

 

Thankfully, getting settled at the Copperhead Lodge was a non-event. We were greeted by friendly staff who were expecting us and they had everything ready for our arrival. Within minutes I had keys to a cabin, a map of “The Gauntlet”, and a full briefing on what was available for dinner in the Copperhead’s restaurant. I smiled to myself as I realized that we had arrived at a place where the people not only understand motorcyclists, they are motorcyclists, and they use that shared perspective to ensure their guests will have an enjoyable and satisfying stay.

 

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Fall Ride 2013 - Day Two - Sunday, 10/20/2013

Rising early, as is our custom when on the road, we scarfed down a tasty breakfast at the Copperhead Lodge, before rolling out to challenge this route called “The Gauntlet” that we had heard so much about. It was a brisk and foggy 42-degree morning and I was really enjoying this taste of true fall weather.

Now, when it comes to riding mountain roads, my standards for what makes a good ride are pretty high. As most of you Dear Readers know, I make a semi-regular habit of this mountain-motorcycling thing. As a result of all those trips north I have experienced the best of what those verdant hills have to offer. I have slain the Dragon that stalks US 129 north of Robbinsville; I have traversed the above-the-clouds pathways of the Cherohala Skyway twisting toward Tellico Plains; I have challenged that not-yet-cooly-named stretch of NC 80 that rises up from Marion to the scenic heights of the Blue Ridge Parkway; I have braved the unforgiving undulations of NC 226A, a road so twisty legend says it makes NASCAR drivers squeal like little girls; and, I have repeatedly stomped upon “The Snake” that slithers across the mountaintops from Shady Valley to Mountain City. And it would be those experiences that would form my basis of comparison for this ride they have dubbed, “The Gauntlet”.

 

Within minutes of leaving the Copperhead Lodge we were riding southbound on GA 60 toward the community of Suches. The road between here and there is a tasty medley of mountain meadows, sweeping curves, and a nice sprinkling of twisty turns to hold your attention.

 

This stretch of the Gauntlet also offered up some beautiful vistas of open fields giving way to mountains rising in the distance, farmland, and natural scenes that were as impressive as they were foreign to this born-and-raised flatlander.

 

No sooner did I find myself enjoying the scenery and the curves than a pair of useless forest rats (aka, deer) ran across the highway about a hundred yards ahead of me. Well, at least they had the decency to cross before I got to them! This little reminder that lots of forest rats call this part of the country home was all I needed to adjust my riding habits accordingly.

At the bottom of the hills we arrived in Suches, where we pulled off into a school parking lot to let the slower riders (Eddie!) catch up. In fairness to the slower riders (Eddie!), it's tough to sling Battlestar Galactica around those tight curves.

 

The next left turn put us onto Wolf Pen Gap Road and I knew from past experience that we were in for a nice stretch of challenging twisty bits over the course of the next few miles. Back in 2005, the same three riders traversed this road on our way to the Honda Hoot in Knoxville, TN. That brief encounter with this road some eight years ago had implanted lasting memories of serpentine goodness that I was eager to refresh.

 

The first few miles of Wolf Pen Gap Road are pretty sedate from this side of the run, but after a few miles and one really hard left turn onto a narrow bridge, you arrive at the gateway to motorcycling goodness. That bridge is located adjacent to Lake Winfield Scott, so we took a bit of time to stop for photos.

Back on the bike and rolling eastward once again, the curves tightened and the road began to demand more and more lean angle from me and my Triumph. Yes, my memories were honest ones; this is a challenging and enjoyable stretch of road. My riding buddy, Mr. Sarcasm, made the most of it as he rode his Triumph through these demanding curves with an ease and grace second only to mine. (Note to Mr. Sarcasm: Let it stand without rebuttal in consideration of that which happened next which goes unmentioned herein.)

 

All too soon Wolf Pen Gap Road came to an end as it intersected with US 129.

 

From Wolf Pen Gap Road, The Gauntlet turned south to follow US 129 down to GA 75A, which is used to pickup GA 348, also known as the Richard B. Russell Scenic Highway. The “scenic” in this highway’s name is accurate and this stretch of the Gauntlet would prove to be one of my favorites. Between the views, the sweepers and the twisty curves -- and some freshly laid asphalt -- GA 348 was motorcycling bliss.

 

At the end of GA 348, we followed The Gauntlet easterly onto another section of GA 180. This stretch of riding brought us to the entrance to Brasstown Bald, a national park that encompasses the highest point in all of Georgia.

 

We took the twisty, steep road up to the park, paid our $5 per person admission, and took the tram ride to the top.

 

At the top of the mountain sat a large complex that included a museum and a large observation deck affording 360-degree views of the mountains of northern Georgia. The views from atop Brasstown Bald, at 4,784 feet above sea level, are nothing short of spectacular. We were especially fortunate to visit on a clear day as we could see the skyline of Atlanta out on the horizon some 70 miles away!

Leaving Brasstown Bald we turned northerly from the terminus of GA 180 at GA 17/75 and continued our trek along The Gauntlet. On this leg of the route we enjoyed a mix of open country and more developed areas; every mile of it good riding in one way or another.

 

The final leg of the Gauntlet routed us around Nottely Lake on GA 325. Once again, the road and the scenery were topnotch. Catching a glimpse of the lake with mountains as the backdrop is always an inspiring sight, and there was no shortage of inspiration on this final section of The Gauntlet.

 

Very conveniently, the last leg of The Gauntlet returned us to the Copperhead Lodge where we dismounted after a full and satisfying day of riding. We had rolled out at eight o’clock in the morning to start a ride that returned us to our starting point at five o’clock in the afternoon, with 150 miles showing on the trip odometer.

 

Back at the Lodge, we sat down to a hot and tasty dinner of mushroom Swiss burgers and cold beers. We closed out day two of riding by enjoying dinner and conversation next to the fireplace in the Copperhead Lodge’s main dining room.

After dinner we strolled the short distance up the hill to our cabin where we all retired for a goodnight’s rest while dreaming of the roads we would challenge come sunrise.

 

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Fall Ride 2013 - Day Three - Monday, 10/21/2013

We rolled out from the Copperhead Lodge at 8:05 a.m. It was a frigid 36 degrees and I was very thankful for modern riding gear and some hand-warmer pouches tucked inside my gloves. We were headed into Blairsville for breakfast at one of the local eateries because the Copperhead's restaurant is closed on Mondays. Later in the day we were scheduled to meet a local businessman who was going to give us a tour of more local roads.

 

Eddie's bike, Battlestar Galactica, had developed a starting issue late in the day on Sunday. As the day wore on the problem became more pronounced, to the point that push starts were required to get him underway. So, part of today's agenda included finding a shop where Eddie could get a new battery installed in his bike.

 

Breakfast was at a place right on the town square in Blairsville called "Hole-in-the-Wall". We had been steered here by some friendly locals working at the Copperhead. The recommendation was spot-on; the Hole-in-the-Wall proved to be a great place for breakfast. The fact that this restaurant served quality country ham, red eye gravy, and oven-fresh biscuits made Eddie especially happy. The restaurant was also located across the street from a historic courthouse with great architecture, so Mr. Sarcasm and I got to turn our breakfast stop into a nice photo op as well.

After breakfast and a quick push-start of Eddie's bike, we were off in search of that new battery. We got some recommendations on places to get a motorcycle battery, but chasing them down proved to be a series of dead ends. One of the last pieces of advice we got was to head up US 129 to a place called the Biker Barn, so we chased that lead as well.

 

Riding about seven miles north of town we found the Biker Barn without any trouble. I went in and asked the friendly guy at the counter if they had any batteries available and was told that he had just sold his last battery of the season the week prior. I thanked the guy for his time and turned to leave, but I guess the chagrined look on my face was too much for him. This guy told me about a place back in Blairsville -- Union Powersports -- that might be open and would be our best bet for finding a battery.

 

Taking the guy at Biker Barn's advice, we rode back into Blairsville and found Union Powersports, where Eddie was able to secure a new battery and installation services. Now, for those of you that don't know any better, buying a new battery is not just a matter of taking it off the shelf and bolting it in place of the old one. New batteries have to be conditioned and charged a certain way to make them ready for installation. In the case of Eddie's new battery it was going to be a two-hour job, so Mr. Sarcasm and I left Eddie at the shop while we continued to ride. Besides, we had a noon appointment to meet up with our tour guide back at the Copperhead Lodge.

 

Leaving Eddie at the shop, Mr. Sarcasm and I got in a bit of riding on some of the backroads south of Blairsville. We also managed to toss in another run on Wolf Pen Gap Road before winding our way back to our scheduled rendezvous.

 

Pulling into the parking area at the Copperhead Lodge I spotted a single motorcycle and rider parked under the canopy. Since the Copperhead was closed, it was a pretty good bet that this was our guy. But something about the man before me was strangely familiar. It seemed that I had seen this guy somewhere before. And that's when it hit me: this was the same guy I had talked to earlier in the morning up at the Biker Barn. And, yes, he was our tour guide for the day.

 

It turned out that this man was Brad Betters, owner of the Biker Barn and good friend of the owners of the Copperhead Lodge. Brad, as I soon learned, was also the architect of the route dubbed "The Gauntlet". Brad explained that Michelle Evans, co-owner of the Copperhead along with her husband, got worn out having to hand-draw routes and maps for visitors to the lodge. Michelle's desire to simplify the routing process for guests resulted in her teaming up with Brad to come up with a route that they could package, promote, and share with guests and visitors to the Copperhead and cooperating businesses such as the Biker Barn. So, Brad used his knowledge of the area to design the route and Michelle came up with the name, produced the maps, and started the promotional campaign for "The Gauntlet".

 

Before heading out for a guided ride with Brad, we checked in on Eddie and learned that the new battery had not solved his problem and the shop now suspected that it was a bad starter causing all of the problems. The shop was having a new starter overnighted for installation the next day and that meant that Eddie was off the riding circuit until that repair could be made. The great folks at Union Powersports had agreed to deliver Eddie back to the Copperhead where he would resign himself to a slow day of hanging out in the cabin.

 

With Eddie's status settled, Brad, Mr. Sarcasm, and I headed out for our ride.

 

Brad took us a bit farther north before turning us southward on GA 60 where we largely covered the same ground we had traversed the day before. At Suches we continued south on GA 60 down to where it intersects with US 19 at an old Indian grave site called the "Stone Pile". From there we made our way over to GA 348 where I got in some photo passes for an article I was tasked with writing for Born to Ride Magazine.

 

We ended the day with some more backroad riding south and east of Blairsville before calling it a day and saying farewell to Brad Betters. Parting company with Brad, Mr. Sarcasm and I headed into town to find the Walmart as we were under orders from Eddie to bring back vittles for grilling. And that's just what we did.

 

We arrived back at the cabin right at 5 p.m., with 183 miles of riding under our belts. Eddie took our groceries and converted them into a delicious grilled meal of country-style spare ribs and potatoes. Of course there was a smattering of beer and whiskey to wash it all down and to keep the conversation running.

Eddie brought us up to speed on his bike and let us know that the folks over at Union Powersports had promised to have the job done by 4 p.m. the next day. That information was a mix of good and bad news: on the good side, Eddie's bike would get fixed. On the bad side, Eddie was going to miss another day of riding. Such are the travails of motorcycle travel and there's not much to do except grin and bear it.

 

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Fall Ride 2013 - Day Four - Tuesday, 10/22/2013

Off to a slightly later start than usual, Mr. Sarcasm and I rolled out at 8:30 a.m., headed for breakfast in Blairsville. We enjoyed yesterday's breakfast at the Hole-in-the-Wall so much that we decided to do it again. Of course, this time, we couldn't share the joy with Eddie because he was still cabin-bound by his broken bike. That was a shame, too, because we were scheduled for a 10 a.m. meet-up with Michelle Evans, co-owner of the Copperhead Lodge, for another guided tour of the area.

 

Right on schedule we met up with Michelle at the Copperhead to start our tour. We learned that we would be joined by another couple -- Sal & Cindy Annerino -- who were staying at the lodge and had been invited to tag along. Sal and Cindy are originally from the Bronx (yes, THAT "the Bronx"), but now call Port Charlotte, FL, home. Sal told me that he and Cindy were enjoying their stay at the Copperhead so much that they had extended a five-day stay into ten days. It was a further shame that Eddie couldn't make this ride because Sal & Cindy also rode a Gold Wing trike.

Michelle led us away from the Copperhead on a northerly track that would take us up into Tennessee and over to North Carolina. Based on Michelle's description of her intended route, I quickly realized that we would be riding the land that comprises the scenic views one gets when looking south from the Cherohala Skyway.

 

Michelle rode a Harley-Davidson, and brother, let me tell you right now, she RODE that thing! Where Brad had been a careful, sedate tour guide, Michelle put the rubber to the road and got things moving along in a spirited and interesting fashion. Not fast, mind you, nor absent prudence, but spirited enough for the two sport-touring guys following her to be able to smile behind our helmet visors.

Our little band of motorcyclists rolled north through Mineral Bluffs, Ducktown, and onto US 64 west to the Ocoee Gorge where we made a stop at the site of the 1996 Olympics kayaking venue. From there we continued on US 64 until we picked up TN 30 and turned off there into the backcountry for some really quality curve surfing.

 

TN 30 was a great road and it soon delivered us to the edge of Reliance, TN, where we stopped for a photo op at an old church sitting alongside a meandering, mountain river.

Leaving Reliance, we continued on toward Tellico Plains, TN, via TN 315 and TN 39. Again, these country highways were great motorcycling roads with an abundance of curves and nice views.

 

Arriving in Tellico Plains, we stopped for lunch at Krambonz BBQ. The food was outstanding and served in such ample portions that it was a challenge just to finish my pulled pork sandwich. When the lady working the restaurant counter put my order down in front of me she asked if I needed anything else. I only half jokingly replied, "Yes, somebody to help me eat all of this!"

 

After a great lunch we departed Tellico Plains by heading south on TN 68, which turned out to be a gorgeous, sweeper-filled ride down to the point where we turned off onto TN 123 and headed east.

 

We rode TN 123 for a number of miles until it crossed into North Carolina and became NC 294, where we continued our eastward trek to Hiwassee Dam Road.

 

We took the dam access road up and over the actual dam, stopping on it's far side to do some photo work. We also made good use of a set of S-curves on the opposite side of the dam to do some more photos of passing bikes. All said, we made good use of this location.

Leaving the dam we returned to NC 294 for a spell before turning southerly onto Sunny Point Road for a few miles of twisty goodness that dropped us back onto US 64.

From US 64 we retraced our route back down to Blairsville and the Copperhead Lodge, arriving at 4:45 p.m., with 171 miles showing on the trip meter for the day's riding. This was a full day of constant movement and navigating some of the best countryside and backroads I have ever seen. Michelle Evans did a spectacular job of weaving us through great riding areas and we were all very thankful for her time and expertise.

Eddie got his bike out of the shop and was happy to have her back in running order with a new battery, a new starter, and a nice little invoice for services rendered to add to his scrapbook. Sadly, this state of happiness was to be short lived.

 

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Fall Ride 2013 - Day Five - Wednesday, 10/23/2013

We spent the night preparing our bikes and our gear for travel as we were slated to leave Georgia for the loftier elevations and environs of the North Carolina mountains. Our itinerary called for us to move up to the Sylva region to spend the remainder of the week playing on more familiar roads and curves.

 

Rolling out at 9 a.m., we were greeted by a brisk 47 degree morning and a certain Battlestar that would not start without being pushed.

 

Yep, Eddie's bike still wasn't fixed, and that meant he had to get it back to the shop for more work before he could consider moving farther north and further away from home.

 

Back in Blairsville, we left Eddie at Union Powersports while Mr. Sarcasm and I headed over to the Blairsville Airport where a few WWII warbirds had flown in for a visit.

 

Arriving at the airport we made our way over to a secluded section of tarmac where three gorgeous warbirds -- a P-51C, B-17, and a B-25 -- were parked and open for tours. Those of you who know me are fully aware that I wasn't about to pass up such an opportunity to get close to -- and even crawl through -- aircraft of this vintage. I gladly paid the price of admission, crossed over the yellow tape border, and found myself face-to-face with 1943.

I took full advantage of the opportunity to shoot a bunch of photos and to take a walk through the B-17. They were offering rides in the P-51, but such an undertaking was out of range for my budget of both time and money. That didn't dampen my enjoyment of the aircraft one bit and I walked off that windblown tarmac with a storage card full of images...and a smile on my face.

 

Leaving the airport we made our way back over to Union Powersports only to find Eddie in the service bay with his trike disassembled into a dozen pieces. Despite all the work done so far, it now appeared that the bike needed just one more replacement part -- a solenoid -- before she could be restored to proper running trim. That repair was going to take a couple of hours at least, and would have taken longer except for the shop's gracious decision to strip the needed part from a brand new Gold Wing they had on their showroom floor.

After some discussion it was decided that Mr. Sarcasm and I would leave Eddie in Blairsville and make our way on up to Sylva, NC, with a stop along the way in Franklin, NC, for me to take in a make-up Rotary meeting.

 

At 10:50 a.m., Mr. Sarcasm and I were rolling toward North Carolina. We had just over an hour to cross the mountains to Franklin to make the Rotary meeting that would start at noon. It was going to be close, but I was confident that we could make it. And we did. With two minutes to spare.

 

Walking into a Rotary meeting as a stranger is always something that draws attention. Rotarians expect strangers to show up for make-ups, but that doesn't change the fact that strangers in the midst of a well-established group is something that draws attention. Now, dress those two strangers in bright, florescent yellow motorcycling jackets, armored riding pants, protective boots, and carrying flashy helmets in one hand and laden tank bags in the other and you've got a recipe for really drawing peoples' attention. And, yes, that's exactly what Mr. Sarcasm and I did.

After enjoying a tasty lunch of beef stew and an interesting Rotary meeting, Mr. Sarcasm and I were back on the road just after one o'clock in the afternoon. A quick phone call to Eddie had confirmed that his bike repairs were almost finished and that he would soon be on his way toward Sylva.

 

At 1:40 p.m., Mr. Sarcasm and I made it to the cabin in Sylva where we would be staying for the remainder of the week. We quickly unloaded the bikes, tossed our things into our respective sleeping quarters, and then jumped back on the bikes and headed out for more riding. How quick, you ask? We were rolling again at 2:15 p.m., so less than 35 minutes to unload, stage the cabin, and climb back in the saddle. The time was an interesting coincidence, too, as we had agreed to make a beeline for NC 215 and some truly twisty goodness to finish out our day.

 

And NC 215 is just what we did.

 

Making our way over to Waynesville, we picked up 215 off of NC 276 and made the extremely enjoyable run up Cold Mountain to the Blue Ridge Parkway. The curves on that side of the mountain come at a fast and furious pace, making this piece of roadway a truly dynamic dance floor for some motorcycle ballet.

 

Of course, we couldn't resist running downhill on the southern side of NC 215 to enjoy the sweepers on that side of the mountain. And, if you run downhill, you have to come back up, right? Yes, you do. And we did.

 

Back at the top of the mountain, just below the Blue Ridge Parkway we pulled off to enjoy one particularly stunning vista of mountains laid out to our east. The air was so cold and the wind so strong that I was beginning to shiver in spite of my thick jacket and multiple layers of warm clothing. So cold, in fact, that I even had to break out a couple more hand-warmer packets and add them to my gloves for the return ride to Sylva.

We took the scenic route back toward the cabin by traveling the Blue Ridge Parkway over to the Smoky Mountains Expressway just outside Waynesville. Hitting the expressway we turned for Sylva and lit the afterburners to keep pace with the late afternoon traffic.

 

In short order we were back up the mountain and pulling into the cabin's parking area. There we were greeted by the comforting sight of Battlestar Galactica resting in the most prime parking locations (it's a big bike) possible. Space that only hours before had held two Triumph Trophy SEs was now occupied by the Battlestar. There is some sarcasm here, just in case you're missing it.

 

Entering the cabin we found Eddie chilling out in one of the recliners and we quickly got briefed up on the details of his repairs, his ride over to Sylva, and his lunch/dinner stop along the way.

 

Wait a second! What do you mean a lunch/dinner stop? That's when Mr. Sarcasm and I learned that while we were out upholding the honor of motorcyclists everywhere by challenging the twists and turns of NC 215 and the Blue Ridge Parkway, Eddie was down at the Huddle House in Dillsboro, NC, enjoying a meal of two eggs, country ham, red eye gravy, grits, rye toast, and a side order of bacon. Now, Dear Reader, this was alarming news as I pretty well knew what it foretold when I asked the important, and very reasonable, question: "But what are we supposed to do for dinner?"

 

The short answer to that question turned out to be that it was our problem. Eddie had eaten and that was all that mattered...to him! Mr. Sarcasm and I were on our own. Fend for ourselves was the order of the evening. And that would have been fine save for the simple fact that there was not one single morsel of food to be found in the cabinets, the pantry, or the refrigerator of that cabin.

 

It had been a long hard day of riding and both Mr. Sarcasm and I were hungry. Luckily for Mr. Sarcasm I wasn't hungry enough to follow-through on my initial cannibalistic impulses, but I was definitely hungry. And then it happened. The bright light of salvation shone down upon us in the form of a bag of pork rinds and a jar of peanut butter that Eddie had brought with him from our stay in Blairsville. Yes, Dear Reader, dinner that night was pork rinds and peanut butter. Not such a bad combination as one might think...especially when you're hungry...and there are no other options.

 

The mileage total for the day was an even 200, and it had been miles ridden through gorgeous scenery and over twisty roads. This is what our trips are all about and we had had a full measure of the fun that we had come seeking. Best of all, Eddie and Battlestar Galactica were back in full commission and ready to ride come sunrise.

 

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Fall Ride 2013 - Day Six - Thursday, 10/24/2013

Dragon day!

 

The weather was beginning to take on the flavor of winter more so than fall and this morning found us rising to the sub-freezing temperature of 30 degrees. The forecast predicted things continuing in this manner for the remainder of the week, and there were predictions of snow in the mountains come Saturday morning. These forecasts were beginning to impact our ride planning, but today we were determined to make the best of it and head over to the infamous Dragon of Deal's Gap.

 

After a breakfast stop at the Huddle House in Dillsboro, we headed for the Dragon in earnest. It was just over 40 miles of mountain riding before we arrived at the intersection of US 129 and NC 28, the official start of the section of road known as the Tail of the Dragon or Dragon, depending upon who you're talking to. What is for sure is that the so called Dragon is an 11-mile stretch of road with 318 of the tightest, twisting, challenging curves you are likely to ever see. And it is also some of the best motorcycling you could ever hope to experience.

 

And experience it, we did.

 

Before the morning was over, Mr. Sarcasm and I had logged five passes on the Dragon; three to the north and two to the south. Eddie got in three passes for himself aboard Battlestar Galactica. Fifty-five miles of riding may not sound like much, but let me assure you that slinging a motorcycle back and forth through 318 curves every eleven miles of that total is a good way to work up a sweat. But it's a good sweat. A sweat borne of fun and excitement, more so than the physical effort required. A sweat that carries with it the aroma of exhilaration. A sweat that puts a smile on your face and a sense of satisfaction in your heart.

With the Dragon sufficiently slain by all present, it was time to move along toward Tellico Plains to pickup the Cherohala Skyway for a reverse-course-routing to Robbinsville.

We took the highway route over to Tellico Plains, arriving there at 2 p.m. We stopped in for lunch at Krambonz BBQ, mostly because we wanted Eddie to bask in their gloriously abundant and tasty food, but also just because the food was so good. This time, I steered away from the pulled pork sandwich in favor of their brisket. Once again I was shocked by quantity of food that they served. Never before have I been served brisket that was cut like a steak, but on this day that was exactly the case. And, yes, it was a huge portion. That steak-cut slice of brisket was half-an-inch thick and nearly hung off both sides of the plate. And, yes, it was also incredibly delicious. How delicious you ask? Enough so that I can say with confidence that it is the best brisket I've ever eaten!

 

After lunch we gassed up the bikes, and did a bit of souvenir shopping before leaving Tellico Plains behind to make our ascent onto the Cherohala Skyway.

 

It was still cool down in the relatively lower altitudes of town, but as we climbed higher and higher onto the Cherohala the temperatures dipped lower and lower. By the time we reached the peak heights of the Cherohala we were enduring 35-degree chills along with our twisty thrills. Between the cold and the building fatigue that was haunting us all, we were motivated to make a power run across the Cherohala and finished the entire 43-mile route in record time for us. There was no dilly-dallying to check out views, instead we just kept rolling forward until we came to the end of run at Robbinsville, NC.

 

Arriving in Robbinsville, we turned eastward once again and then beat feet for the cabin, where we rolled to our final stop of the day at 5:30 p.m., with 253 miles showing on the trip meter.

 

Our good friends Mike & Diane invited us to dinner that evening and we enjoyed Diane's tasty spaghetti and good conversation before bringing the day's adventures to a close.

 

Back at the cabin discussion ensued about the increasingly threatening weather situation. The mountains to the north of us were certain to get snow and that meant we couldn't head up to NC 80 as previously planned. At the same time, the forecast for the southern mountains was growing increasingly sketchy and the chance for weekend snow was still hanging over us. Cold is okay on a motorcycle, but snow and ice are not. The thought of possibly being snowed in come Saturday morning was a problem of sufficient scale to force us to reevaluate our options.

 

In the end we decided to call an end to the mountain adventures for this fall's riding season. We decided to head south tomorrow and to travel as far as Warner-Robins, GA, where we would visit the aircraft museum on the Air Force base in that city.

 

With that decision made we spent the remainder of the evening repacking our luggage and our bikes for the ride southward.

 

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Fall Ride 2013 - Day Seven - Friday, 10/25/2013

We rolled out at 9:30 a.m., and headed west under a bit of a compromise plan. Before heading south we would make our way over to Waynesville for breakfast and then Mr. Sarcasm and I were going to explore the coves that lie in the shadow of Cold Mountain for photo opportunities. Once that little side mission was accomplished, we would then head south toward Georgia and our intended goal of Warner-Robins.

We stopped for breakfast at Clyde's in Waynesville where the waitress was sassy and inattentive in keeping with the tradition of the establishment. The place was packed, the service was slow, and the food was okay. But all in all it was a decent experience and just as this wasn't our first visit to Clyde's, it won't be our last.

After breakfast Mr. Sarcasm and I headed into the coves where we chased down a few decent photographs. It felt good to take the time to explore new areas and to bag a shot or two that could prove useful in the months and years to come. The best part of this exercise was letting our photographer side take precedence over our motorcyclist side. Each is important, and each deserves its time as the priority.

 

Eddie decided he wanted no part of photo hunting and announced that he would go back to Dillsboro and wait for us there.

 

Photos bagged, we met up with Eddie again at the Huddle House in Dillsboro, said farewell to Mike and Diane who had come down from the mountain to keep company with Eddie, and then rolled south for Georgia. It was now 2 p.m. and we would need to make steady progress if we were to make Warner-Robins by nightfall.

 

And steady progress is just what we made.

 

Our trip down through Georgia was a push. We stopped only when we needed gas or when Eddie simply wouldn't go another mile without a break. Those breaks would prove to be few and far between.

 

We stopped at 3:20 p.m. in Homer for a leg stretch and road snack. I fed half of my Snickers bar to a black-colored chow mix that was wandering around the convenience store parking lot.

 

At 5:25 p.m., we stopped in Eatonton for another quick break.

 

At 6:20 p.m., we stopped in Macon to refill our gas tanks and to quell a minor rebellion from within the ranks.

 

At 7:00 p.m., we arrived in Warner-Robins, where we quickly secured lodging for the night and got ourselves and our bikes unloaded before heading out in search of dinner.

 

Our hotel experience was particularly good this night. Upon checking in the very helpful desk clerk volunteered to upgrade us to suites for the price of regular rooms. He also gave us all kinds of discounts we didn't really qualify for and also gave us good information about visiting the museum on the Air Force base.

 

We ended up eating Thai food at a restaurant right next to our hotel.

 

After dinner we returned to our oversized hotel suites and pretty much called it a day. We had ridden long and hard all day and the three of us were pretty much beat by this time. I made my last journal entries of the day, checked my email, and went lights out at 9 p.m.

 

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Fall Ride 2013 - Day Eight - Saturday, 10/26/2013

I was up at 6:15 a.m. to make preparations for the last leg of this trip. Today would bring all of the traveling and the adventure to a close and I was in the mood to make the most of it. So, I started my day with a leisurely scan of the news, surfing the Web on my phone, and just generally luxuriating in the solitude of my private suite.

 

At 6:50 a.m., I made my way down to the hotel lobby for the complimentary breakfast included with our stay. Breakfast proved the old adage that you get what you pay for. Well, at least the room was nice!

 

Back in my suite it was time to repack the luggage and load the bike for the day's travels.

 

My companions and I were at the USAF museum promptly at 9 a.m., just as they opened the doors. We spent the next hour and a half exploring the various exhibit buildings and static displays. The museum had a very nice collection of aircraft that are significant to the history of the USAF. However, the museum itself seems dated and neglected. If you are an aviation or history buff, the museum is worth a trip to visit.

 

We left the museum parking lot at 10:45 a.m., and made our way over to I-75, where we turned south and headed for home.

 

At 11:55 a.m., Eddie led us off the Interstate and into a rest area for a break. When I asked why we had stopped so soon Eddie's reply was, "Because I wanted to!" Well, I suppose there's no arguing with that kind of logic, so I didn't try.

 

At 1:10 p.m., Eddie led us off the Interstate once more. This time the stop was in Valdosta, GA, for "Smuggler's Run - Part Two". We made the most of this stop by including a gas fill-up and lunch at an adjacent Subway sandwich shop. During lunch there was conversation about making yet another stop in the Ocala area for ice cream. I made it clear that I was done stopping for the day and that I would be continuing on toward home in lieu of a stop for ice cream.

 

Some ways down the road we did come to the Ocala area and sure enough Eddie exited the Interstate for ice cream, Mr. Sarcasm right behind him. True to my word I did not exit and simply gave my friends a wave as I continued my trek southward toward home.

 

I pulled into my driveway right at 5 p.m., after having made a non-stop run of 223 miles since leaving Valdosta. My Triumph's odometer reported a grand total of 2,203.3 miles had been ridden since I left home the previous Saturday. I put the bike away and began to unpack her one more time. But, this time, I had the satisfaction and the memories of a week on the road with good friends, of many miles traveled through all kinds of scenery, and one more chapter in my life's adventures to reflect upon in the still and quiet hours of the night.

 

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