This weekend:
All trips over 250 miles until now:
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
20150921 - Baton Rouge to Spring Hill
Riding home after such a nice stay in Baton Rouge was disappointing. The good news is that I left at 6:10 in the morning managed to get within half an hour of my house before the temperatures broke 90 degrees. I had 618 miles to cover in one day and really wanted to get the lawn cut before the sun went down. I took interstate. Now for the obligatory maps!
This weekend:
All trips over 250 miles until now:
This weekend:
All trips over 250 miles until now:
20150920 - Baton Rouge LA
The whole plan for this day would be to ride into Baton Rouge, LA and meet up with my friend of 20+ years and current District Fire Chief of St. George's Parish - Jack Jones.
Once again, I left without breakfast. The GPS indicated I was about 2 hours away and I expected Jack to be working with his guys on training. The man has to work and I really didn't want him to be having to play host to me. I was expecting to get there, find a corner of the fire station to crawl into, light up my wireless hot spot and start blogging until he was done for the day. Truly, I was very excited about getting there and catching up. 20 years is a long time and I'll comment once more about FaceBook bringing people together. 20 years ago, the technology wasn't there. If you didn't get their phone number before they lost town, generally speaking, you expected them to be lost forever unless you had friends in common that could put you back in touch.
So, as I road from Natchez to Baton Rouge, I reflected on how happy I was that I wasn't sweating my a$$ off. It was still 70 something degrees. I was also thinking about what a shame it was that on this trip, I would only have 3 meal opportunities to sample some world renowned cuisine. It was sort of depressing. I had considered going to the French Quarter; but, truth be told, I was road weary and was looking for a day out of the saddle to rest up for tomorrow's 600 mile ride home.
I pulled into town and just about did an end when I saw a cafe on the side of the road with 2 police cars. If it's meal time and I see emergency services folks piled into a restaurant, that is where I want to be. These people know the local area well and know what's good and what's not. Think about it. How often do you see the local police, ambulance or fire crews at McDonalds? You don't. They are at that little restaurant that sells great food, a little off the beaten path, that knows them all by first name. This is the place I'm always looking for. So, I slammed on the brakes, did a quick U-turn and came pulled in.
I was definitely looking for something different for breakfast. American breakfasts can be somewhat boring; eggs, omelets, french toast, pancakes, waffles, cereal, oatmeal and that's about it. Maybe sometimes, you'll find a Huevos rancheros dish somewhere; but, for all intents and purposes, an American breakfast is pretty dull. I found what I was looking for when I read "Catfish fillet and eggs, Toast or girts." I can honestly say, catfish has never been on my breakfast menu; but, when in Baton Rouge do what the Baton Rougi ... people from Baton Rouge do. Order up! So, I read what I wanted right off the menu to the waitress, who asked if i wanted grits and I looked at her funny because it was either toast or grits. She said the menu was wrong and I could have both and that if I didn't want toast, they had homemade biscuits. This is getting better by the second. I'll have grits and a homemade biscuit please! So, when she came back she asked where I was from because I looked at her strange when she mentioned grits. I told her I love grits and prefer to have them plain, unlike those folks from Mississippi who mix their scrambled eggs in their grits. At that point, it was clear that I was a member of the grit eating community and not some damn yankee (this is our secret).
So, while I'm enjoying this killer biscuit, I notice some guy taking a long look at my bike. He came in and saw me right away and said he had a K16 of his own and was looking at my crash bars. I introduced myself and offered him a seat. I knew this wasn't going to be a short conversation. He politely refused; but, when a well dressed church going couple came in and took his seat, he took me up on my offer. We talked for the better part of an hour about bikes and riding. He's a lineman from Detroit; but home is Louisiana. He said that he doesn't ride much; but, that's because he just had his hip resurfaced and was just cleared back to work. He was rightfully concerned that he couldn't support the weight of the bike on that hip. He's planning on getting back to it soon. As good as the conversation was, I had to excuse myself because a full day of catching up was in store for me. James bought my my breakfast, which was entirely unnecessary; but, very nice. So, my day started out with a free and very tasty breakfast. On the way out, I complimented the waitress on her biscuits. I had a feeling it was her restaurant and she made those little beauty's from scratch. Her whole face lit up. That's awesome.
So, literally, I went into the restaurant and it was in the low 80's and when I came out, the temperature was more than 90. OMG. Fortunately, I was only 7 miles away from getting out of my riding duds and into some cooler clothing.
The GPS almost took me to the firehouse. I was just about to blow by it when I saw the bay doors open and two firetrucks inside. I doubted there were two nations on the same street less than a mile apart, so once again, I tested the limits of the braking abilities of the K16, swung a U turn in front of the engine and parked around back. Jack heard me coming and was out back.
People could learn a thing or two about hosting from Jack. I was barely off the bike and Jack was showing me inside to my room. He had a sleeping bag, a sheet, and towels waiting for me. The room was air-conditioned and cold. He told me to get myself comfortable and come out so he could introduce me to everyone. I would not say that I had low expectations; but, I would say that I would be perfectly happy sleeping on the couch. I had a whole crews quarter with it's own bathroom to myself. Did I mention that it was nice and cold?
I met the guys and Jack and I had a chance to catch up. We also talked about FaceBook and how once you get past all the cat and dog pics, you actually do get insight into what's going on in people's lives. Catching up is much quicker. The one thing FaceBook didn't prepare me for was how deep Jack's voice has become. He told me he was taught how to whisper in a sawmill. This would be true.
Before too long, we were out in the Department's Tahoe looking over St. George. We drifted in to another station, where Jack had Walt give me the tour of the rescue. Walt is a rescue Captain, and there is good reason for it. He exudes knowledge about every inch of that truck and it's capabilities. He can tell you the specifications on every piece of hardware and exactly what it's capabilities are. The people of St. George are lucky to have him. Judging by the others at this department, he was one of many talented individuals.
After the tour, we drifted over to HQ, where I met an assistant Chief, Mike Armanini. Mike went to Paramedic school in Williamsport with Angelo Porecca - small world. It became very clear that there was lots of trust and a solid working relationship between Mike and Jack. Later in the day, I'd meet another District Chief and it was even clearer that there is very open and fluent communication and support for each other at the top of this company. I was very clear that the lines of communication were open all day and that they were each responsive to one another's needs within their districts.
Before too long, Jack, Mike and I wandered over to the simulator. Yes, they have a $250,000 fire engine simulator.
After about an hour or so of simulator time, we said goodbye to Mike and headed out for more of a tour of the town and it wasn't too long before we were out on vehicle wreck. It was my first response with Jack in over 20 years. I have to say that 20 years has changed things drastically. We definitely had our issues with people not getting out of the way of an emergency vehicle, no doubt; but, things are ten times worse now. Firefighters meticulously plan everything just so they can get out of the station faster and to the scene as quickly as possible. They take incredible risk by dressing in the back of the piece, only to have one a$$hole after another pull in front of them or not yield the right of way, all while talking on their cellphone. In a 3 minute response, we had at least that many drivers that would not yield to us. I'm thinking that emergency vehicles should be equipped with cellphone jammers. When the lights and siren go on, every call in a 1000' semi-circle in front of the vehicle is dropped and their cellphone goes dead - until the vehicle passes. The technology is available. It would really anger a lot of people; but, it would save lives and do a lot to guarantee the safety of emergency responders.
Jack and I had a mission. I wanted to bring desert to dinner. Jack, again being a flawless host, planned for us to have dinner at the firehouse. On the menu was Josh's pastalaia. This is a combination of jambalaya and pasta. It's a firehouse special and it's damn good. Excuse the pic below. At one point this really awesome cast iron dutch oven was full; but, the picture had to wait until after I we were done eating. Josh is an awesome cook. When I came in, they were talking about whether or not they needed the rest of the stock. They cooked this up from scratch - no microwave involved. AND, they had a caesar salad on the side. Truly awesome.
So, just a comment about the smoke eaters. Simply put, these guys are family. It is a highly social environment. Not a single person picked up an smartphone the entire time I was there. Now, finding your place in the family is a requirement is a process and time honored tradition. The person with the least seniority can count on being the brunt of all jokes and be required to do a lot of the house chores. When I pledged Sigma-Phi-Epsilon, this is exactly how it was. The brothers were relentless and unmerciful and your only solace is that on that glorious day, when some poor noob joins your station, you will no longer be the low man. Cayman, my brother, keep smiling. You have a great personality and you handle it well. Know full well that when you're in the station, you're their punching bag; but, when you're out of the station, every single one of those guys has your back - and you can bet your life on it.
I really liked this dutch oven and had to get a picture with the lid.
After dinner, we rolled on two calls - one where someone pulled the alarm in the section 8 housing district and a fatal overdose. The dispatcher was obviously trained by the very best and everyone at our station sleep the whole night through; other stations weren't so lucky though.
I had to grab a pic of my motorcycle's sleeping accommodations.
Once again, I left without breakfast. The GPS indicated I was about 2 hours away and I expected Jack to be working with his guys on training. The man has to work and I really didn't want him to be having to play host to me. I was expecting to get there, find a corner of the fire station to crawl into, light up my wireless hot spot and start blogging until he was done for the day. Truly, I was very excited about getting there and catching up. 20 years is a long time and I'll comment once more about FaceBook bringing people together. 20 years ago, the technology wasn't there. If you didn't get their phone number before they lost town, generally speaking, you expected them to be lost forever unless you had friends in common that could put you back in touch.
So, as I road from Natchez to Baton Rouge, I reflected on how happy I was that I wasn't sweating my a$$ off. It was still 70 something degrees. I was also thinking about what a shame it was that on this trip, I would only have 3 meal opportunities to sample some world renowned cuisine. It was sort of depressing. I had considered going to the French Quarter; but, truth be told, I was road weary and was looking for a day out of the saddle to rest up for tomorrow's 600 mile ride home.
I pulled into town and just about did an end when I saw a cafe on the side of the road with 2 police cars. If it's meal time and I see emergency services folks piled into a restaurant, that is where I want to be. These people know the local area well and know what's good and what's not. Think about it. How often do you see the local police, ambulance or fire crews at McDonalds? You don't. They are at that little restaurant that sells great food, a little off the beaten path, that knows them all by first name. This is the place I'm always looking for. So, I slammed on the brakes, did a quick U-turn and came pulled in.
I was definitely looking for something different for breakfast. American breakfasts can be somewhat boring; eggs, omelets, french toast, pancakes, waffles, cereal, oatmeal and that's about it. Maybe sometimes, you'll find a Huevos rancheros dish somewhere; but, for all intents and purposes, an American breakfast is pretty dull. I found what I was looking for when I read "Catfish fillet and eggs, Toast or girts." I can honestly say, catfish has never been on my breakfast menu; but, when in Baton Rouge do what the Baton Rougi ... people from Baton Rouge do. Order up! So, I read what I wanted right off the menu to the waitress, who asked if i wanted grits and I looked at her funny because it was either toast or grits. She said the menu was wrong and I could have both and that if I didn't want toast, they had homemade biscuits. This is getting better by the second. I'll have grits and a homemade biscuit please! So, when she came back she asked where I was from because I looked at her strange when she mentioned grits. I told her I love grits and prefer to have them plain, unlike those folks from Mississippi who mix their scrambled eggs in their grits. At that point, it was clear that I was a member of the grit eating community and not some damn yankee (this is our secret).
So, while I'm enjoying this killer biscuit, I notice some guy taking a long look at my bike. He came in and saw me right away and said he had a K16 of his own and was looking at my crash bars. I introduced myself and offered him a seat. I knew this wasn't going to be a short conversation. He politely refused; but, when a well dressed church going couple came in and took his seat, he took me up on my offer. We talked for the better part of an hour about bikes and riding. He's a lineman from Detroit; but home is Louisiana. He said that he doesn't ride much; but, that's because he just had his hip resurfaced and was just cleared back to work. He was rightfully concerned that he couldn't support the weight of the bike on that hip. He's planning on getting back to it soon. As good as the conversation was, I had to excuse myself because a full day of catching up was in store for me. James bought my my breakfast, which was entirely unnecessary; but, very nice. So, my day started out with a free and very tasty breakfast. On the way out, I complimented the waitress on her biscuits. I had a feeling it was her restaurant and she made those little beauty's from scratch. Her whole face lit up. That's awesome.So, literally, I went into the restaurant and it was in the low 80's and when I came out, the temperature was more than 90. OMG. Fortunately, I was only 7 miles away from getting out of my riding duds and into some cooler clothing.
The GPS almost took me to the firehouse. I was just about to blow by it when I saw the bay doors open and two firetrucks inside. I doubted there were two nations on the same street less than a mile apart, so once again, I tested the limits of the braking abilities of the K16, swung a U turn in front of the engine and parked around back. Jack heard me coming and was out back.
People could learn a thing or two about hosting from Jack. I was barely off the bike and Jack was showing me inside to my room. He had a sleeping bag, a sheet, and towels waiting for me. The room was air-conditioned and cold. He told me to get myself comfortable and come out so he could introduce me to everyone. I would not say that I had low expectations; but, I would say that I would be perfectly happy sleeping on the couch. I had a whole crews quarter with it's own bathroom to myself. Did I mention that it was nice and cold?
I met the guys and Jack and I had a chance to catch up. We also talked about FaceBook and how once you get past all the cat and dog pics, you actually do get insight into what's going on in people's lives. Catching up is much quicker. The one thing FaceBook didn't prepare me for was how deep Jack's voice has become. He told me he was taught how to whisper in a sawmill. This would be true.
Before too long, we were out in the Department's Tahoe looking over St. George. We drifted in to another station, where Jack had Walt give me the tour of the rescue. Walt is a rescue Captain, and there is good reason for it. He exudes knowledge about every inch of that truck and it's capabilities. He can tell you the specifications on every piece of hardware and exactly what it's capabilities are. The people of St. George are lucky to have him. Judging by the others at this department, he was one of many talented individuals.
After the tour, we drifted over to HQ, where I met an assistant Chief, Mike Armanini. Mike went to Paramedic school in Williamsport with Angelo Porecca - small world. It became very clear that there was lots of trust and a solid working relationship between Mike and Jack. Later in the day, I'd meet another District Chief and it was even clearer that there is very open and fluent communication and support for each other at the top of this company. I was very clear that the lines of communication were open all day and that they were each responsive to one another's needs within their districts.
Before too long, Jack, Mike and I wandered over to the simulator. Yes, they have a $250,000 fire engine simulator.
Jack, being the perfect host, did not tease me with such a wonderful combination of fun and technology and fired it up for me. I will say that it takes a little getting used to. There is lots of realism; but, there are also some things that are strange - like if you go over railroad tracks, the screen bounces; but, it's not a full motion sim, so you don't feel anything. The simulator focuses on many aspects of driving a fire engine - control, response time ( to unexpected events), blind corners, driving at appropriate speeds, control limits, etc. I can see how some might complain that it's not like the real thing, and they would be right; but, it is absolutely world class in that it demands good judgement from you and allows you to make errors in a controlled environment. Here's my run where I'm supposed to go down to K street, turn left and find a vehicle fire. There never was a vehicle fire due to a computer error; but, it was a good run.
Jack and I had a mission. I wanted to bring desert to dinner. Jack, again being a flawless host, planned for us to have dinner at the firehouse. On the menu was Josh's pastalaia. This is a combination of jambalaya and pasta. It's a firehouse special and it's damn good. Excuse the pic below. At one point this really awesome cast iron dutch oven was full; but, the picture had to wait until after I we were done eating. Josh is an awesome cook. When I came in, they were talking about whether or not they needed the rest of the stock. They cooked this up from scratch - no microwave involved. AND, they had a caesar salad on the side. Truly awesome.
So, just a comment about the smoke eaters. Simply put, these guys are family. It is a highly social environment. Not a single person picked up an smartphone the entire time I was there. Now, finding your place in the family is a requirement is a process and time honored tradition. The person with the least seniority can count on being the brunt of all jokes and be required to do a lot of the house chores. When I pledged Sigma-Phi-Epsilon, this is exactly how it was. The brothers were relentless and unmerciful and your only solace is that on that glorious day, when some poor noob joins your station, you will no longer be the low man. Cayman, my brother, keep smiling. You have a great personality and you handle it well. Know full well that when you're in the station, you're their punching bag; but, when you're out of the station, every single one of those guys has your back - and you can bet your life on it.
I really liked this dutch oven and had to get a picture with the lid.
After dinner, we rolled on two calls - one where someone pulled the alarm in the section 8 housing district and a fatal overdose. The dispatcher was obviously trained by the very best and everyone at our station sleep the whole night through; other stations weren't so lucky though.
I had to grab a pic of my motorcycle's sleeping accommodations.
and, this story wouldn't be complete without a picture of me and Jack.
Before I close out this day's post, I really want to say thank you to the St. George Fire Department for making me feel so welcome. Every station I visited had a really awesome clue and my only regret is that I didn't get to spend more time with each of you. Josh, again, great grub. Cayman, thank you for the iced tea. Erik, Joe, Brad, Mike, it was great meeting all of you. There are so many more of you and I am so sorry I didn't write down all your names. Please be safe.
Jack, if you're reading, what can I say. You rock. My day off the bike was way more than I expected. Just catching up and kicking back would have been plenty for me; but, you went all out and showed me a great time. I know you have a ton of brothers around you every day; but, don't forget about the one that is only 618 miles away. If I can ever host while you're in Florida, I'd be honored and please expect another visit soon - this time on your day off and probably in the French Quarter.
20150918 - Mississippi
Who said that all plans fail the first incursion with the enemy? They were correct. When I woke up and checked the weather, Oklahoma and Arkansas were hosting thunderstorms and they looked mean. The good news is that they would stay there and I had plenty of riding I could do right from where I was.
I consulted motorcycle roads as I often do and found that the Natchez parkway was a highly rated ride and apparently was a national parkway. I thought that since the Blue Ridge and Skyline Drive were both gorgeous national parkways, this one should be also, so the new plan was to take the interstate up to Tupelo and ride the parkway back south. This would give me a great cross section of Mississippi. My thinking was that if I made it all the way to the end, I'd be in excellent position for a very short run to Baton Rouge in the morning. Game on, let's go.
As usual, my bad habits continue and I left without having breakfast. I always tell myself that I'd like to get some miles under the wheels first, and then stop for breakfast. The problem is that once I get going, I don't want to stop and sit for breakfast. I end up eating horribly. I have no clue what I ate; but, chances are, it was bad for me. Temperatures quickly climbed into the 90's. By 11am, it was 95 and climbing. I knew it would be hot and chose to wear a tee shirt. ATGATT maniacs can kiss my butt. If your'e too afraid to ride without looking like an astronaut all the time, you shouldn't be riding. Plus, I'm much more likely to wreck due to heat exhaustion and dehydration than I am from an incursion with the ground. I have good skills and am relentlessly vigilant in my scan of the road
I needed fuel about 45 minutes out of Tupelo and just as I was about to get on the bike, a farmer came over and wanted to talk about my bike and my travels. This happens a lot. Many want to tell me about their Harley; some want to know all about my bike; and most want to know where I'm off to and where I've been. I'm never in so much of a rush that I can't spend a few minutes with everyone. Many tell me about how life has taken over and they don't have time to ride. Usually, they look at me, after just having heard about how I'm about a thousand miles into a two thousand mile weekend journey and realize they need to make time if they really want to enjoy this aspect of their life. It's not that I have no sympathy for them, it's just that I don't have any sympathy for them. I am polite about it; but, generally their eyes start searching for the ground when they realize they didn't find an empathetic ear. Well, upon leaving the gas station, I thought I was getting back out on the highway; but, realized that it must have zigged and I zagged at some point. I was on some back road. This didn't bother me in the least as there is always exploring to be done. So I poked around for a while and when it was time to get back on course, I put Tupelo in the GPS. My GPS is set to avoid highways, toll roads and the like. There is no setting for dirt / gravel roads, and that is how I found myself on a mile or so of the road below. Now, I'm always up for excitement; but, I have to say I'm very happy that my GPS took me over this road during the day and that the loose gravel part only lasted about a mile and a half; navigating 1000+ of motorcycle and rider through a couple inches of loose stone is slow as your riding must be very deliberate. With ruts made by other vehicles, the road is anything but smooth and traction less than optimal. It's also roads like these that make me want to trade my K1600 for a R1200GS so I can start riding street and off road.
;
So, I made Tupelo around lunch time. I'm always on the search for that quaint, aesthetically pleasing, lunch site where you can get something small and maybe sit outside under the shade of a large tree and enjoy the scenery and people. That dream is omnipresent; but, rarely comes true. What I continue to find, again and again, are chain restaurants - either national chains or small franchises. They're everywhere. It's so disappointing; and so it was for lunch in Tupelo. I had lunch at some small Mexican food franchise. That being said, they had an interesting taco dish. It's a hard taco, wrapped in a flour tortilla. This is an excellent combination because when the hard taco starts breaking apart, the flour tortilla is there to save the day.
So, after lunch, it was somewhere around 95-97 degrees and I'd been riding in it for hours. I was a sweaty blob and the air conditioning and ice water in the Mexican restaurant failed to cool me down. I was longing for my pool. I knew that a 10 minute swim would cool me right down and I'd be ready to go. In fact, if there were a lake on the side of the road, I would have taken my electronics off and walked right in - boots and all. So, with that not being an option, and being I was about to get on the parkway, with no clue if there would be anywhere to stop for drinks, I stopped off and bought a few bottles of water. I drank one and poured one on my head, neck, chest and back. It was cold and shocking; but, after the initial jolt, refreshing. I also knew that the wind against my now wet clothes would help cool me down.
So, I made my way to the Natchez parkway in Tupelo and started heading back South. It is pretty as there are lots of trees all around; but, this is nothing like the Blue Ridge or Skyline with the very majestic landscapes. Things here are decidedly flat and it's like riding in a tree tunnel. Ride 10 miles of this and you've seen it all until you get down to Ross R Barnett Reservoir near Jackson. I've been told since that the parkway is much better from Nashville Tn down to Tupelo.
There are no fuel stops between Tupelo and Natchez on the parkway. That said, my DTE was greater than the distance I would travel, so I didn't worry about fuel; although, I started getting concerned about it when I passed Jackson Mississippi and my fuel reserves were dwindling. It looked like I would make it to the end with about 6 miles in the tank. Life is good.
I made it to the gas station with exactly 6 miles of gas left in my tank. It was about 8 something pm and I was exhausted from a long day of riding. I needed more water, gas and rest - in that order. After filling my tank and getting some more water, I came out to find a guy on a Harley at the pump next to mine. It was 90 something and he was decked out in full leathers, chaps and all. He asked me about my riding pants and we started talking about riding. He just bought a new Harley and I came to find out that he was an Army Major that did logistics. You would never know it by how he carried himself - calm, easy going, social. He served in all our recent wars. I chatted with him for what seemed like half an hour, thanked him for his service and wished him and his men Godspeed. I found hotel accommodations a few miles down the road. The day was done.
So, after lunch, it was somewhere around 95-97 degrees and I'd been riding in it for hours. I was a sweaty blob and the air conditioning and ice water in the Mexican restaurant failed to cool me down. I was longing for my pool. I knew that a 10 minute swim would cool me right down and I'd be ready to go. In fact, if there were a lake on the side of the road, I would have taken my electronics off and walked right in - boots and all. So, with that not being an option, and being I was about to get on the parkway, with no clue if there would be anywhere to stop for drinks, I stopped off and bought a few bottles of water. I drank one and poured one on my head, neck, chest and back. It was cold and shocking; but, after the initial jolt, refreshing. I also knew that the wind against my now wet clothes would help cool me down.
So, I made my way to the Natchez parkway in Tupelo and started heading back South. It is pretty as there are lots of trees all around; but, this is nothing like the Blue Ridge or Skyline with the very majestic landscapes. Things here are decidedly flat and it's like riding in a tree tunnel. Ride 10 miles of this and you've seen it all until you get down to Ross R Barnett Reservoir near Jackson. I've been told since that the parkway is much better from Nashville Tn down to Tupelo.
There are no fuel stops between Tupelo and Natchez on the parkway. That said, my DTE was greater than the distance I would travel, so I didn't worry about fuel; although, I started getting concerned about it when I passed Jackson Mississippi and my fuel reserves were dwindling. It looked like I would make it to the end with about 6 miles in the tank. Life is good.
I made it to the gas station with exactly 6 miles of gas left in my tank. It was about 8 something pm and I was exhausted from a long day of riding. I needed more water, gas and rest - in that order. After filling my tank and getting some more water, I came out to find a guy on a Harley at the pump next to mine. It was 90 something and he was decked out in full leathers, chaps and all. He asked me about my riding pants and we started talking about riding. He just bought a new Harley and I came to find out that he was an Army Major that did logistics. You would never know it by how he carried himself - calm, easy going, social. He served in all our recent wars. I chatted with him for what seemed like half an hour, thanked him for his service and wished him and his men Godspeed. I found hotel accommodations a few miles down the road. The day was done.
20150916 - 20150917 - Spring Hill Florida to Hattiesburg MS
The plan was to go to Mexico. You see, I've been to Mexico before; but, I've never ridden in Mexico. One thing that I do not do in my personal life is plan things out. I prefer to figure things out on the fly and have long experience at giving myself contingencies and options; but, going from Spring Hill to the closest boarder crossing in Texas is a long way to go to learn that something I need is all the way back in Florida, so I pinged some folks at the BMW MOA Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/groups/bmwmoa/permalink/10153709297099379/
Many of the people in this group are assholes. If you were to ask them, they would say, "Yes, this group is heavily populated with assholes." That said, a specifically crafted post generally gets some valuable return. I'd say about 15% useful information and 85% crap. Insert vinegar and wine cliché here. Well the short of it is that the best way to do this is to arrive the day before, get your paperwork done, come back to the US side and cross in the morning. This will help avoid some of the badness that could ensue as the bad people are waiting in ambush for you at the center where you're doing your paperwork. If they see a single rider on a $25,000 motorcycle, it's a target. That was enough for me because even though I had 4 days off, I didn't have enough time to do this. So, another trip, another time. That said, I was destination hunting. I tried once before to get in touch with a friend Jack Jones, who is in Baton Rouge LA and this time I had some luck. He would be working the 6am-6am shift on Sunday the 21st. Game on, I have a destination. I need to arrive in Baton Rouge sometime on Sunday.
As always, someone calls a late meeting on Thursday, which delayed my pack out. I really do have it to a science, so it didn't take that long; but, when you're trying to put some miles under your belt before dark, you have precious little time to do it all, so I didn't get as far as I wanted.
My first stop was in Chiefland Florida; pretty amusing, since I was going to visit the fire chief in Baton Rouge. So, when I saw the sun going down, I decided to take a side road, any side road, and ride into the sunset.
I stayed at a Quality Inn. I always ask where the good food is and I was pointed down the street to Bett's Big T restaurant. This is nothing to write home about. At least, it's not fast food. I had a pork chop, not a PORK chop that's like half an inch thick and juicy. It was two paper thin chewy pork chops. Oh well. I was going to Louisiana and there's plenty of good food there.
So, about this time, I got to thinking that I'd have a day to kill before getting to Baton Rouge and I thought I'd take care of the fact that I hadn't ridden my K1600 in either OK or AR. So, I thought I'd land somewhere in MS or LA on Friday night, do OK and AR on Saturday and part of Sunday and stroll in sometime around lunch. Really, this is the extent of my planning and, as has happened before, I could get an idea about going somewhere else and change course at any time. This was a good start and at least I knew that 98 West would be a nice scenic ride across the gulf.
Friday morning was wet. It had rained and it was threatening to do it again. I looked at the weather and found that if I were on the panhandle by 9am, I'd avoid most of it. So, I delayed breakfast and beat feet. I didn't stop until I saw a place for breakfast in Panacea Florida; basic breakfast, no frills. The service was good and the waitress was so interested in the bike and my travel stories. She seemed like a nice lady who has never been more than a couple miles from home. I have to remind myself that my "weekend trips" are more than just a trip to most people. For them, the effort to do a 100 mile trip is probably the equivalent of my 1,000 mile trip and many would simply take a plane, if they went at all. Back on the motorcycle, the temperature is already over 90 degrees. It's all fine as long as I'm moving. Once I get into stop and go traffic or I'm standing on the pavement waiting for a traffic light, it's not so pleasant. The scenery on the panhandle is sporadic. The first part is very boring with barely any view of the gulf. Then, you get a couple bridges and get to see the bay. Then, you go through some more touristy sections and then "Welcome to Alabama." I was ready for lunch somewhere in Florida. I stumbled across a BBQ place. Shame on me for not remembering its name. They made a good pork BBQ sandwhich with a nice Carolina sauce; but, they destroyed it by not toasting the bun first. No bun in the world is going to survive being saturated with a vinegar based sauce. Before I knew it, it was in shreds and I was eating it with a fork. I'll call it a semi-fail.
I grabbed this video of the Bank Head Tunnel in Mobile Alabama for my friend Joe Wydock who loves tunnels on a motorcycle.
So, as I was leaving Alabama and crossing into Mississippi, I came across this:
Don't ask me. I haven't a clue and they were closed. It looked like they were closed for a long time. Moving on...
About a mile after this, I was in Mississippi. I knew I would have to start going North at some point and the GPS showed that I-59 was in front of me. The sun was going down and it was time to find a room anyway. I grabbed the Interstate and found a hotel in Hattiesburg. I learned later that I was by the University of Southern Mississippi. I thought this was a good landing spot for the night and put me in good position to do AR and the Southwestern corner of OK tomorrow.
Many of the people in this group are assholes. If you were to ask them, they would say, "Yes, this group is heavily populated with assholes." That said, a specifically crafted post generally gets some valuable return. I'd say about 15% useful information and 85% crap. Insert vinegar and wine cliché here. Well the short of it is that the best way to do this is to arrive the day before, get your paperwork done, come back to the US side and cross in the morning. This will help avoid some of the badness that could ensue as the bad people are waiting in ambush for you at the center where you're doing your paperwork. If they see a single rider on a $25,000 motorcycle, it's a target. That was enough for me because even though I had 4 days off, I didn't have enough time to do this. So, another trip, another time. That said, I was destination hunting. I tried once before to get in touch with a friend Jack Jones, who is in Baton Rouge LA and this time I had some luck. He would be working the 6am-6am shift on Sunday the 21st. Game on, I have a destination. I need to arrive in Baton Rouge sometime on Sunday.
As always, someone calls a late meeting on Thursday, which delayed my pack out. I really do have it to a science, so it didn't take that long; but, when you're trying to put some miles under your belt before dark, you have precious little time to do it all, so I didn't get as far as I wanted.
My first stop was in Chiefland Florida; pretty amusing, since I was going to visit the fire chief in Baton Rouge. So, when I saw the sun going down, I decided to take a side road, any side road, and ride into the sunset.
I stayed at a Quality Inn. I always ask where the good food is and I was pointed down the street to Bett's Big T restaurant. This is nothing to write home about. At least, it's not fast food. I had a pork chop, not a PORK chop that's like half an inch thick and juicy. It was two paper thin chewy pork chops. Oh well. I was going to Louisiana and there's plenty of good food there.
So, about this time, I got to thinking that I'd have a day to kill before getting to Baton Rouge and I thought I'd take care of the fact that I hadn't ridden my K1600 in either OK or AR. So, I thought I'd land somewhere in MS or LA on Friday night, do OK and AR on Saturday and part of Sunday and stroll in sometime around lunch. Really, this is the extent of my planning and, as has happened before, I could get an idea about going somewhere else and change course at any time. This was a good start and at least I knew that 98 West would be a nice scenic ride across the gulf.
Friday morning was wet. It had rained and it was threatening to do it again. I looked at the weather and found that if I were on the panhandle by 9am, I'd avoid most of it. So, I delayed breakfast and beat feet. I didn't stop until I saw a place for breakfast in Panacea Florida; basic breakfast, no frills. The service was good and the waitress was so interested in the bike and my travel stories. She seemed like a nice lady who has never been more than a couple miles from home. I have to remind myself that my "weekend trips" are more than just a trip to most people. For them, the effort to do a 100 mile trip is probably the equivalent of my 1,000 mile trip and many would simply take a plane, if they went at all. Back on the motorcycle, the temperature is already over 90 degrees. It's all fine as long as I'm moving. Once I get into stop and go traffic or I'm standing on the pavement waiting for a traffic light, it's not so pleasant. The scenery on the panhandle is sporadic. The first part is very boring with barely any view of the gulf. Then, you get a couple bridges and get to see the bay. Then, you go through some more touristy sections and then "Welcome to Alabama." I was ready for lunch somewhere in Florida. I stumbled across a BBQ place. Shame on me for not remembering its name. They made a good pork BBQ sandwhich with a nice Carolina sauce; but, they destroyed it by not toasting the bun first. No bun in the world is going to survive being saturated with a vinegar based sauce. Before I knew it, it was in shreds and I was eating it with a fork. I'll call it a semi-fail.
I grabbed this video of the Bank Head Tunnel in Mobile Alabama for my friend Joe Wydock who loves tunnels on a motorcycle.
So, as I was leaving Alabama and crossing into Mississippi, I came across this:
Don't ask me. I haven't a clue and they were closed. It looked like they were closed for a long time. Moving on...
About a mile after this, I was in Mississippi. I knew I would have to start going North at some point and the GPS showed that I-59 was in front of me. The sun was going down and it was time to find a room anyway. I grabbed the Interstate and found a hotel in Hattiesburg. I learned later that I was by the University of Southern Mississippi. I thought this was a good landing spot for the night and put me in good position to do AR and the Southwestern corner of OK tomorrow.
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