Friday, October 17, 2014

Solo motorcycle ride south - it's over

I'm back home. I arrived yesterday morning at 9:30am and was too tired to update my trip notes until now. Here's the summary:

Update:

As I mentioned in my previous post, I left Walterboro, SC at 8:30am waiting for the rain to stop. By then, I had decided I would make a go for Key West. It would be a long 700-mile ride, but so what?

While on the road, it dawned on me I better check hotel availability so I pulled into a rest area in southern SC and made a phone call. The hotel price provoked me to change plans. I decided instead to go to Jacksonville, hang a right to Mobile, and then another right for home. But when I got back on my bike and headed for the rest area exit, I passed this motorcycle and grabbed both brakes skidding to a stop:

Whoa!
A bobber.
No rear suspension beyond the rigid seat and less than 1" up front. Clip ons. Pretend rear brake (that is, hub brake with shoes). I don't know Harley motorcycles well enough to tell you which motor it had beyond it being a Sportster engine. And, unless you're the size of an 8-yr old, you'd be all scrunched up when riding this bike.

I looked at the license plate and it was from Texas! Someone rode this thing from Texas!! Probably going to Biketoberfest. No new smell shiny faux leather jacket with matching boots and chaps and fingerless gloves rider here. No Tim Allen, John Travolta, Martin Lawrence, William H. Macy Wild Hogs poser here.
The dude riding this bobber is the real deal--and yes, it's a dude because no woman I know would be crazy enough to ride a bike like this for more than 10-miles. I waited for the rider to come out but he never showed--he was probably inside waiting until his coccyx recovered. So I got back on my bike and headed south. I was inspired. I was going to Daytona. I wanted to see more.

Pre Biketoberfest:

250-miles later I was going down Main Street at Daytona Beach. Even though Biketoberfest didn't officially start until Thursday, there were lots of riders. Too many riders. Too many Wild Hogs riders (see above).


Funny, not much has changed in Daytona Beach since the last time I was here for Bikeweek in 2005. I decided to leave.

On the road again...for 25 hours:


I headed for home. I arrived at 9:30am Thursday morning having ridden through the night. I spent 25 hours on the bike and traveled about 1200 miles. I might be eligible for another Iron Butt certificate, but I already have one of those the time I went crazy in March 2009.

It's good to be home.



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