As I write this, my boots are stuffed with newspapers, hopefully, they will dry. I was going to visit Graceland until I saw the forecast. I'd rather get some miles, than look at Elvis' junk. Leaving Memphis this morning, I said "Rose…that's route 64, right outside our hotel." So we followed 64 through the city. A bad lane change in commuter traffic, quickly funneled us onto a bridge over the Mississippi River, and into Arkansas. So we came back over the river, and promptly got lost in Memphis. Yeah, they got some rough neighborhoods. But we found I 40, and blasted through all the construction zones, and out of the city. We found the confusing route 64, and then 100, in Whiteville. Eastbound. Somewhere out near Perryville, near the intersection of 412, we stopped at a little store with a gas pump. This was old style, nothing digital. The pump had the numbers that roll up when you lift the handle and turn the crank. No credit card…pump and pay inside. The folks in there didn't like us. The woman, who I paid for the gas wouldn't speak to me and didn't make eye contact when she gave me my change. After I used the bathroom, in the back of the store, an old man blocked the aisle, so I couldn't get through. I said "excuse me," and he totally ignored me. So I said it again, really loud, inches from his head, and still no response. So I tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped aside to face me. He said, "Are you OK?" And I brushed past him. "I'm good," I said. We were south of Nashville, and headed for Murfreesboro, when the lightening started. Long, multiple bolts, that cracked loud across the darkened sky. And then came the rain, not too bad at first, but then torrential downpour. I couldn't see shit. I put the flashers on and tried to stay on the highway…cars were pulling off…I got off…trying to find shelter, a gas station, anything. A lightning bolt cracked really close, and Rose screamed. Then I saw a parking lot, and a building with a porch, and I turned toward it…almost went in the ditch, corrected, found the driveway, parked the bike, and stood on the porch of a Baptist Church, watching the rain dancing in the parking lot, forming little rivers around the Roadglide. When the rain slowed, we made a run for Murfreesboro. And sitting there in the Motel 6, trying to dry my boots. Shit, might as well do some laundry.
EXFOLIATING: Removing dead skin cells. 150 miles on the American Interstate Highway System in driving rain is good for exfoliating. So we took the interstate today, because it's easier in the rain, less chance of getting lost, missing critical road signs, less chance of assholes pulling out of driveways, on slippery surfaces. Stopped at a rest area, somewhere in eastern Tennessee, where tourists watched agape, as I sat on a public bench, and wrung out my socks. Rain tapered off around Knoxville, and we did a high speed, left-lane blast through city limits. Took a break at Waffle House, then rode to Bristol, and got a good room, at a decent price, using my veterans discount.
Big puddle next to the bike this morning, a small pond, wasn't there yesterday. Took route 19 from Abington over Clinch Mountain and picked up ALT 58 to Norton. At the top of the grades, it seemed like dense, fine soaking rain, but I think we were riding in clouds. We took 23 north and hit the Kentucky line at the top of a mountain, and there, for sure, it was rain. Eight percent downhill grade and curvy all the way, and rain slick, most of the way to Pikeville. We rode into town, and we rode down a narrow alley, then got back on the highway: 119 North. Ate some burgers at the Dairy Queen, near the Virginia line, then made a curvy, high-speed run into Charleston, West Virginia. Once before, we'd stayed in Charleston, and we liked the hotel, and the river, and the brewery, and the music venues. Unfortunately, all we could find, was the river. Everything else looked different. So we got on I 79 north, and blasted up to Weston, West Virginia, where we got a room, a six pack and a bottle of wine, and WEST VIRGINIA CHINA BUFFET: General Tao's Possum.
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