I've always been an avid traveler. So was my grandma Ruth - I learned from her to go anywhere fearlessly and with anticipation. Mostly I traveled alone. The one trip I took for four days somewhere back in the late 1990s ended up with me coming home with some of the sexiest high heel shoes ever! Put me in (or on) a vehicle, and I'm long gone - see ya suckers!
Our first long stop was in Marietta, Ohio for food and an ass break. It was actually a very nice ride with perfect weather. At Marietta, the plan was to get on I-77 south and high-tail it for a bit - but OH BOY - it got so freaking HOT!!! The interstate was not only boiling, but there was construction and the slower speeds under a baking sun on a road like a roasting pan, well, that made us all a tad miserable. Endurance, folks, endurance and sheer will got us to the exit at Ripley for the side road Route 21 that parallels 77, and that was much nicer.
Route 21 takes you all the way south to Charleston, WV. We had to pick up U.S. Route 119 there, and with me in the lead with my trusty directions, I got us through a neighborhood and a roundabout and it was so cool to be taking the turns that I knew like the back of my hand - like whoa, this is how it looked on the internet! Well, when I got the group through that mess, I wanted to stop and yell out "how super awesome was that?"! Instead I started laughing and talking to myself because I was like fuck yeah, I did it!!!! I heard Booner at a stop say "Good job, Holly".
U.S. Rt. 119 is a really nice road, but it is a 55MPH highway, so not quite a side road, but not a boring interstate. 119 took us through some pretty areas leaving WV into KY with interesting rock cutaways and hillsides covered in viney foliage. At times, the ride was mesmerizing and simply sweet under an aging sun and consistent wind. Our motors purred. Our backs relaxed. Our trip was on with no turning back.So why Pikeville, KY? At about 400 miles, it was two-thirds of the 600 mile trip south. Remember my zooming in and out on Google Maps? There just happened to be Mineshaft Harley-Davidson right there in Pikeville and about two football field lengths away from the Holiday Inn Express (our hotel for the night)! It was really dark when we got to Pikeville, and I missed the turn onto the road in my directions, which resulted in us going to an intersection that took me by surprise. Now, Bryon says I rode right through the red light at this huge intersection (I wondered why no one followed), but I didn't see the light. After several minutes of the group trying to locate me ahead in a parking lot, we regrouped, continued on 119, with Bryon leading, PAST the hotel, did a U-ey, then some yelling "turn left!", and onto a road that lead to the HD store. Whew, we turned around and saw the hotel at the end of the road. Parked. For. The. Night.
DAY 2: Let me bore you for a moment: OMG, I love Holiday Inns!!! They are now my first choice (if there's an option). The bathroom mirror (which apparently impressed only me), had I had room on my bike, would be in our house right now. Okay, now after a great nights sleep, and perfect breakfast, we went right to Mineshaft HD. Don't take men to a Harley store!!! You'd think they never saw a T-shirt before. LOL! I think everyone got something, with the men taking the lead - they even had to have Mineshaft mail their purchases home.
Everything started off great. Weather was decent. Clouds moving in from the west. So what. We road along Routes 119/23/58 for quite a ways staying on Rt. 23 towards Gate City. I can't recall now, but we stopped when some rain started and spent a bit too long at a gas station that had a Burger King. The weather radar was showing a front moving in; we thought we'd wait it out, let it pass, but if you don't ride in the rain, you don't ride, nor do you get to your destination as planned. Those with rain gear put it on. We hit the road southbound again with an eye out for I-26.
DOWNPOUR!!! Riding at 60 miles an hour in a torrential downpour is a blast! Actually, it really was. What a challenge, and was a wet mess, and what a story. We were entering Tennessee when the rain was letting up. We stopped at what would be the nicest rest area ever with such kind and caring people who worked there! Seriously, why weren't they bitter and sarcastic like all our NE Ohio folks? Maybe they were aliens. Really, though, you can see from the picture of me that I was drenched. The kind legally blind woman that was working in the concession building gave us towels to help dry off, offered free coffee and snacks. She cared. She was nice. We stayed for a bit inside then outside. I never miss a good photo op: see what happens when you aren't paying attention?
We dried out a little. Upon hitting the road again, we went back north one exit on I-26 to get onto Route 93, and let me tell you that was a really nice road to take. It was in the plans anyway, but we were to pick it up later off I-81. Glad we caught it early. Our next target town was Hot Springs, NC. To get there we followed 93 to 11, and somewhere along there signs weren't posted. Turn around. Turn left. Cross a shitty bridge that was under construction. Forest. Lots of forest.
Now it was getting late. We had to check-in at the Five Star Motel by 9pm. When we finally got to Hot Springs, about 40 or so miles north of Maggie Valley, we stopped. Next was Route 209, The Rattler. Who needs The Dragon when you have The Rattler to ride? Start it in Hot Springs at the top where it's most curvy and goes downhill, or start it at the other end and prepare. It certainly was a challenging ride to end our "easy" day! Everyone wants to go back for it again - plus a T-shirt for those of us who got Boonered.
We had missed calls from the motel wanting to know if were were still coming. Oh yes, sir, we were on the way. And we made it.
We didn't just make it, we DID IT! I DID it!
And there in lies my writers block - I wanted all the adventure to myself. I wanted the freedom more than I even understood at that moment.
The Five Star Inn was a nice place with convenient parking, rocking chairs outside of each room with mountains to view across the street. Under the big trees were swinging benches and more chairs, and behind the place was Jonathan Creek.
DAY 3: Cherokee. Dear Diary, while the camaraderie with friends was enjoyable, the town of Cherokee was not. Signed, Holly
When you get to the town of Cherokee on the reservation (which is just normal mountains, curvy road, and trees), and pass the giant casino, and park in town, the disappointment sets in. Where did all this weird Made in China Native American-esque stuff come from? And why doesn't the hot dog shop have hot dogs? And why is this Native American talking like a rapper? And why doesn't the Harley store have motorcycles? And why didn't we just keep riding through? It's not even picture worthy, but here ya go:
After visiting Cherokee, we were to make our way north to Clingman's dome, but Bones wasn't feeling well, so we went back to Maggie Valley and the motel. And thank goodness for southern BBQ! Willie Brooks BBQ to be exact. I'd go back for that and a minimum of 72 hours of one-on-one with the top of a mountainside with a valley view.
DAY 4: Started out the same as day 3, with breakfast at Joey's Pancake House a little ways west from the motel on the same road. This was also the day to slay the Dragon. Which we did. I rode with Bryon because I let the hype deter me from riding my own, and it ended up no big deal. A nice road, with cool curves and fun, but nothing a respectable rider can't handle. Anyways, we all took off to the west again toward Fontana Damn and Deal's Gap. It was a nice ride with a stint on the Moonshiner 28. That's where the rain hit (actually we got rained on almost every day). But this was a sinister rain. A frustrating rain. A "seriously?" rain. Nice road though. I'd do it again.
At Deal's Gap, the group split, some going south to the Cherohalla Skyway, the rest staying on the Dragon. Look how sunny in the pics! It was just nature's way of allowing a photo session, only to be followed by torment. Them western storm clouds caught up with us all. Those of us on the Dragon got rained on a bit. Not too bad. We have some videos and photos. 
It get's cold at the higher elevations. While some of us got trapped for two hours at the Dragon Harley apparel store because of the storm, our friends who went south endured a blinding rage from the skies on the Skyway. And none of us knew what was going on, or where anyone was. No phone service. Dress warm and suck it up. Man, there was still daylight. We left on the bikes to try to find our friends. The plan was to meet at Tellico Plains, TN and all ride back on the Cherohalla. We eventually did. And it was a beautiful place!! Gosh, the things that make you glad to have vision. The forest-lined Dragon, the valley lined Cherohalla, the sky above. Remarkable.
It was very dark when we got off the Cherohalla Skyway, and a bit difficult to see the road signs. It's a bit lonely out there when it get's late and dark. But we had fun. The adventure, as Bones says, is when we get lost. Well, adventure was the ruler.
DAY 5: Captain's Log, August 9th - Three days to get home. Wheels Through Time. Wheels Through Troubled Waters. It was a great day. As we packed the bikes, ...
As we packed the bikes while enjoying some breakfast pastries from the bakery across the street, we planned out the route home. This I had not done ahead of time. I had hoped for a slower track home, to see what we could, hit an Interstate route only if we had to. At minimum, we were to get onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, but the warning signs at the entrance said caution for motorcycles due to fresh tarred and chipped roadways. Nice. Meanie was taking the lead, and he made the decision to get on the BRP and take the chance. It was fine.
Some areas were gravelly, but it was worth it!
And then there was the dark side. Prior to the lovely rainbow above, there was rain. A lot. We could barely see, and wouldn't you know that during this pilgrimage in the sky, there were tunnels. Dark tunnels. If you've ridden on this section of the BRP before you know. Some you can't see to the other end, some curve; you better hope your headlight doesn't go out. And you better have your clears on. I had on clear goggles and the rain was so heavy that my goggles filled up like fish bowls - all I needed was a tiny goldfish! Slow and easy, went our little train of bikes. Oh man, how tempting the views were, tinged with lightening lower than we were (that was Meanie's favorite part). And the rain was weird: we'd enter a tunnel in the rain and it would be dry at the other end, and vice versa. Drenched.
Hungry. You can't just stop and have food magically appear. Keep going. FINALLY! A convenience store. Really? Wait, a restaurant? Yes, please. The Pisgah Inn. It's a hotel too. The rainbow picture was taken from the back deck of the place. Here is the entrance. The food was phenomenal!
You can pick up BRP patches inside.
We would have paid any price. Whatever we paid, the room was once again worth it. All of us had to wash clothes so the washers and dryers were much appreciated. We took over the guest area while doing laundry, ordered pizzas, and bullshitted for a few hours. That's what made all the adventure seamless - friends and stories. And pajamas. I'm sure those of us who opted for pajama pants and sweats brought a little class to the establishment, LOL, we were all relaxed. Meanie and I had every piece of leather hanging on something in front of the rooms air conditioner. It was all heavy like lead weights.
DAY 6: Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans. In other words, hit the nearest Harley store. Harley-Davidson of Asheville was our way out of town, and we devised a plan north from there. I didn't even look in the store due to my diligence (a.k.a. obsession) with looking at Google Maps to see that we got the fuck out of NC and into at least one other state before nightfall. Again, we hit really nice roads, good open roads, some with challenging curves which made it interesting. But man oh man, when I saw the sign that we entered Tennessee, yippee! Honestly, I am having a hard time recalling much from there, except that we got onto U.S. Route 19 north and used it as a guide since we knew it was guaranteed to get us home some day.
At a break stop, we decided on Beckley, WV as are target for the night. And again, the ride was nice, with good weather. Little did we know that the state fair was going on and all the hotels were booked full. Ugh. Well, Booner, Sweet-N-Low, and Bones had taken off earlier that morning before the rest of us since Bones wasn't feeling well. They got to Beckley first and found the hotels full. Then they found one. It was a doozy and we were all desperate. Booner told us how to get there. Parking was maxed, so we huddled the bikes near the entrance and chained them together.
Overkill? We came to learn that the hotel had bedbugs and the city of Beckley is known for a major heroin epidemic. Our hotel was a hotspot. Morning couldn't come fast enough.
DAY 7: Saturday the 11th. The Booners and Bones left early again. When we go on rides, we prefer to stay together all the way out, and all the way back for reasons of safety and knowing where everyone is at. Bones had to go, and it was in the evening of that day that he was in the ER in Sharon getting checked out. The rest of the pack got breakfast at Sheetz, and we hit the highway homebound.
It wasn't a bad day for riding; pretty good actually. A lot of the riding was on I-79 again, and on U.S. Route 19. What's nice about these two roads is they parallel each other, so you can switch from one to the other when you want a change of pace and scenery. Once again that long droning hum of the engines purred, at least to me, like a lullaby and we just cruised. At one point on I-79 north I went over the white line toward a really rough part of the roadside! I don't even know how or why; maybe Poseidon was telling me he'd had enough or I just wasn't paying attention. I recovered it quickly, but boy, was my focus back on target! Haha! "wake up sister"
Still in WV on route 19 in the light of day, we saw a good stopping point: a BBQ joint. I know, you're thinking "hell yeah" just like we did. The Hickory House. Located in Jane Lew, it's just under 200 miles from Hubbard. The food was really good, and the servers were super friendly, maybe transplants from that strangely nice area of Tennessee I mentioned. The food is definitely good enough for a road trip back. Plus, oh man, it's only 5.4 miles from a Holiday Inn Express!!! How can you beat that for a an overnighter?
But the fates have their ways. Never, ever, ever say the words well, we made it back when you haven't actually made it back. Poor Hammer. We got ready to leave. There were a few rain clouds on the horizon, nothing big. Hammer tried starting his Road Glide. Nothing. Again, and nothing. With a few oh shits and some raised eyebrows, this was not good. The guys did what they could to determine the problem. Hammer called the HD store where he bought the bike for help, but they couldn't do anything. He called the roadside assistance line as instructed: sure, we can tow it for you to the nearest dealer (which was 75 miles away), and they can look at it (on Monday when they reopen), and sorry about your luck.
We waited for a few hours on the nice deck that surrounds the Hickory House. We just sat back and relaxed. But the tow truck wasn't coming; Hammer's son-in-law was with a truck and trailer.
Never leave a brother behind. It was hard to make the decision to take off, but we only did so once we knew for sure that Jimmy was on the road and headed to Jane Lew and with Hammer's okay. Believe me, he wasn't left alone! The BBQ ladies helped him with what he needed, and they even had food for them all upon arrival. Very late into the night, they had the bike loaded and back home.We boarded the bikes and prepared to take off. Poor sad pouty Hammer.
Now there were three bikes and four riders. I-79 north, then I-70 west, and get on Ohio Route 7 north. That's what we did. It was a long ride. We just wanted back in Ohio. And I wanted to take off my helmet. I believe we stopped at the gas station in the town where they have the best pepperoni rolls ever!
It was dark out. Route 7 is like a lonely tunnel at night, but the reflecting construction cones give it that Star Trek warp speed quality. I'll tell you what, following the signs for Routes 7/30/11 in the dark to get onto Route 11 north is tricky around East Liverpool. The entrance ramp looks war-torn. We did it, and it was getting cold, and late, somewhere close to 11pm. We pulled over so Tiny and Goldilocks could put on warmer clothing.
We could have ridden all night. One would think of just getting home, yet the air was perfect for me and Bryon's air-cooled bikes, and Tiny's fuel injection bike was running sweet. Route 11 north was a dark tunnel too. Flawless. Rich black asphalt. Smooth, new road. Dreamy even. Minds freed.
I like these kind of pictures: documents and details. This blog post doesn't have nearly enough of the details of such a first-time and tremendous trip. There was just so much that we did and experienced. The "been there, done that" crowd will probably fall asleep reading this. The "I want to do that" crowd will hopefully be inspired. When on a trip with many people, expectations will vary, and you'll find that some just need to do their own thing.
We made it home. Some of our family and friends think that it's too dangerous to ride motorcycles, let alone ride some 1600 miles round trip far from home. They must not want freedom as badly as we do. Why be afraid? Living is far too interesting to sit still, and I won't be caught in the doldrums.
THE REST OF OUR DAYS: Six bikes, eight people, seven days, sixteen hundred miles, countless curves and raindrops. Surmountable odds, valleys filled with the tops of old mountains, bobcats, wild boars, butterflies, and trees. Everything we did as friends we will remember until our ends.
THE REST OF MY DAYS: Me, my motorcycle, and wind. Cloud-shadowed mountains to endless horizons. Plenty of sun and rain. Not enough time. I will recall my words to Bones one morning sitting on rocking chairs over cups of coffee: If ever I find that I am dying, I would like to walk as far into the forest of the mountains to die and become one with it all.
If only I had more time to spend with the mountains while breathing.
Forever in freedom,
~ Holly
