First – Thank you, Andy, for sharing all the pictures and recap. I am more bummed about missing the Friday evening… It has been truly humbling to see this group come together to support each other and Sonya during the past few weeks.
I’ve shared some of this in bits and pieces already. I couldn’t depart for Woodstock until after Friday evening. Our youngest – Harleigh – graduated Friday evening. She’s had a challenging time the past few years with navigating the remote learning model and transitioning back and forth as the pandemic evolved. But she made it and walked the stage Friday evening. At one point earlier in the week, while we were solving the puzzle for me getting to Woodstock and having horse show responsibilities covered, she told me, “Dad – you need to leave Friday, you don’t need to be at graduation Friday night”. It was not something I could miss. I could not be more proud of her. She has grown into a young lady with a big heart and passion for riding (horses). She gets what the motorcycle does and means to me, and our friends that make up the extended family. She would have defended my absense fiercly, which is precisely why I needed to be present Friday evening. The horse show puzzle was solved easily because there are some great folks involved with the program. Due to the timing of the graduation, air travel was out of the equation. Nothing available that could get me into ATL before 3-4pm Saturday afternoon. Besides, I kept asking myself wwjwd.
Much to my surprise, the graduation ceremony was done in just over 2 hours; I was home and asleep just after 10pm. I was up at 2:30a. I need to pause and thank Brandon here – Bseelbach – he offered to ride along to make sure I made it. He was standing in my driveway at 2:45a when I opened the garage door. We rolled a few minutes later. Southbound, hammer down.
I didn’t plan on running cannonball speeds; not in the dark with forest rats to consider as well as minimizing the potential for performance awards. We were both running radar detectors. We both had the Waze app running. South of Toledo, running along at a crisp +12-15 over posted velocity, I realized that all the countermeasures in the world are useless unless you’re paying attention to them. That first close encounter should have been a conversation, if not documentation. The trooper pulled out behind us, but no flashing lights except a turn signal as he moved swiftly right across to the rest area exit. That state trooper that was not interested in getting out of his car at 4am to talk to us. Thank you, Ohio. Similar situation in Lexington, KY – I realized Brandon was off in the center lane and a car was closing in – a car with a light bar. I slid over, that trooper had somewhere to be and it didn’t involve wasting time with us. Thank You, Kentucky. Knoxville was a decision point. Arrive prior to 10am, I was going to run 129 to the Cherohala. After 10am and it would be I75 to Sweetwater, TN and into Tellico Plains. We missed the window for 129. The risk of serious delay if trapped behind a pirate parade on a Saturday morning was too great. Was dropping off the slab for some time in the twisties a good idea? No – but again – wwjwd?
I was feeling good with the ride at this point. We had covered over 500 miles in about 8 hours And it felt even better to be off the slab and leaning into a road I’ve frequented often when we lived in SC. It felt even better ripping past a line of pirates on the climb out of Tellico – because, you know – wwjwd. There is therapeutic value in the song of the FJR at full steam. It soothes the sole in a way some understand. The crack of the exhaust note from a rev matched downshift into a left-handed sweeper and the WOT pull through the gears. Rinse, repeat. The beautiful part of running east from Tellico Plains is that it required a u-turn and run west back. More of that therapeutic value mentioned earlier. A left in Tellico put us on TN68 South, dispatching what traffic we could, continuing south until we ran into Woodstock. Traffic intel was spot on – minimal LEO presence, maximum velocity – thanks Lumberg.
I arrived later than I’d had preferred, but we made it. Kind words spoken by all reinforced what we knew about jwilly, making this even harder to bare. This event is proof that life is not fair. But it is also provides the nudge to live this life to the fullest, because we only have this one.
Sunday was a light day. We migrated north to TwoS, enjoyed a beverage or 3 and a campfire. It was a quiet evening. Monday was to be a solo day. I wanted some time in solitude on the road. GA60 led to TN68 (again) and onto the skyway. That dumped me onto US129. I ran the dragon to the overlook and back, then south on NC28 – those long sweepers let the bike settle in and sing the song of it’s people. I ran out of energy on the BRP and exited at Maggie Valley; found shelter for the night there.
Tuesday arrived and I ventured back to the BRP. I’ve shared this part of my ride home already, over
here. Maybe a beverage will coax the paul harvey version - a couple of bicyclist with no sense of humor and a blue light special
I ran NC215 north off the BRP, connected to NC209 and on through Hot Springs towards Erwin, TN. Weather forced a change there that pushed me north. Roam Mountain and 421 were painted shades of yellow, orange and red on the radar. Those tasty bits would need to wait until the next run. I punched home on the Garmin and it displayed a time / distance puzzle that was reasonably solved. I rolled north through Kentucky in temps ranged from 95 to 99; I saw 101 on the south edge of Columbus. Dinner with Andy and Sooze provided the recharge I needed to press on. I rolled into the garage just after 11pm Tuesday night. The smell of hot engine and sound of cooling exhaust ticking quietly as I peeled sweet soaked and dried on gear off. wwjwd.
4 days. 6 states. 1917.1 miles. Definitely within the acceptable “wwjwd” criteria for a motorcycle ride.
Oh, in case you haven’t deciphered it yet – wwjwd is “what would JWilly do”.
Love you, brother.
