Preface
There is a magic about road trips, one that is difficult to describe to those who have never travelled by motorcycle. There is a strange separation from consciousness that occurs when your senses are overridden by the sound of the motor and wind across your ears. The next few posts are snippets, same day when possible, of what happens in my world when covering miles the way God intended. By motorcycle.
August 28, 2012
10:30 AM
“You will miss sunrise, if you close your eyes. And that would break my heart in two….”—Townes Van Zandt
On the road at an abandoned gas station just north of Fulton KY and listening for that drone of engines that tells me that the group is approaching. This place brings back so many memories for me. As I said, it’s a filling station from yesteryear that has obviously been bought by someone with the same desire for authenticity as I. He has renovated it into a sort of adult toy box. I’ve stopped in this gravel parking lot what seems like hundreds of times. I’m literally just across the border from Tennessee and this is the spot where we used to stop to remove our helmets before the trek north into Kentucky and Illinois, back in the days when I would ride lidless. Memories of my old friend Blake, and his friendship that he forged with a stray basset hound that once hung around the place. Tips of a nasty plastic bottle of Kentucky Tavern before our foray with old pals.
This trip finds me riding back to Milwaukee with the Memphis MVP group. For a Harley rider, the trek to Milwaukee really never gets old and the MVP Old Milwaukee trip caries a feeling all of its own. I’m looking forward to experiencing it all again with this new group of folks that, at this point, really don’t know what lies ahead of them. I had breakfast in Medina this morning with Angie and Haiden before she headed back to school. I was fortunate to have the rare opportunity to close my mouth and open my ears and a good lesson was learned. Parents, stop trying to constantly ‘fix’ your children and learn to listen to them . Good advice Princess, thank you.
The drone approaches…
12:30 PM
Great feature of the bike I’m riding, the iPod interface. I can plug my iPod into a harness in the saddlebag and control it through the regular controls on the handlebars. I find that the correct playlist is an irreplaceable ally on a trip by bike. My own personal soundtrack and it has not let me down today. It sings to me, it is my companion and drives my thoughts as the miles pass.
“I’m gonna live forever. I’m gonna cross that river. I’m gonna catch tomorrow now.”—Billy Joe Shaver
Stopped for ‘dinner’ (Hold on to Southern colloquialisms for they are dying) at The Blue Boar between Jonesboro and Cobden Illinois. It is an out of the way place that I found with the recommendation of my friend and great American character, Shad Zimbro. Shad is one of my mentors in the Harley-Davidson business.
Anyway… Many places are referred to as ‘biker friendly’ and you can assign any definition to that which you wish, but in my book, it is the pinnacle of ‘biker friendly’. Not that it’s a “biker bar” or anything like that. It doesn’t have the finest amenities for motorcycle parking, unless you are the type that digs gravel parking lots, but where it shines is in its character and personality. I’ve talked so many times about ‘character’ and ‘characters’ and their importance in life. NEVER EVER BLEND IN and the Blue Boar doesn’t. It is a diamond in the rough. In a world of cookie cutter eateries with the same old worn out menu, the Blue Boar is built upon incredible hospitality, inviting atmosphere, beautiful scenery, and great food. If ever in Southern Illinois, don’t miss it.
We continue to make our way north through Illinois. These are familiar roads to me. Highway 127 north from Jonesboro toward Murphysboro. How many times have I ridden this road through my youth. As many of you know, I attended college at the nearby Southern Illinois University at Carbondale and this was one of my getaway routes on the old FXR that I spent many ‘formative miles’ on. One of the great things about this road is that it literally hasn’t changed in 20 years. Nothing about it has. The scenery is exactly the same. Who is intrigued by time travel? Who isn’t? Well, I tell you what… Today was a trip back in time. Today as I careened my machine through the twisty curves I was 20 years old again, taking a quick break from the guts of the WSIU-TV edit suite that I spent countless hours of my life.
“Look out here she comes, she’s comin… Look out there she goes, she’s gone….”—Guy Clark
That lyric, that was us. My best friend, Eric Jones and I as we carved out our place in the world, just as we carved the corners of that magical road.
Death took Eric from me right before we graduated, but today he was there with me again…. Smiling face, flat top haircut, ’79 model worn out, piece of shit, smoke billowing, oil spraying, Harley-Davidson Sportster riding gem of my youth.
“The Ghost has got me runnin…”-Whiskeytown
More on him some other day, some other blog.
Springfield Illinois tonight and tomorrow on to Milwaukee. Good Night.
Ride safe, and with purpose.
