FRIENDS 2011
  
 

Day 02

April 8

  
  Les has two 'goals' for his ride over here - attend the Moonshine Gathering in Casey, Illinois and to ride Deals Gap. So today we are going to tackle the first via a slight detour to some interesting places. But we have to on the road early to make the special supper meeting at Moonshine, so we are out and about before good daylight.  
   
  I'm on careful Bambi watch as we make progress quickly across the backroads of western Tennessee. But right at my 'expected' time, we pull into the Irish Capitol Of Tennessee - Erin.  
   
  And right at the crossroads of highway 13 and 49, sits one of my favorite places to stop for breakfast - Fitz's Family Restaurant. They fix just good old plain grub cooked the country way and served with a smile. And usually there are plenty of locals sitting at the tables solving all of the world's problems.  
   
  Les sees to be easily adjusting to the manners and ways of this foreign culture - judging by the emptiness of the plate before him. I am just glad he decides not to pick it up and lick it clean ...  
   
  With proper combat and conquering completed at the breakfast table, we make our way through a quietly sleeping downtown Erin.  
   
  Just outside of Erin in Tennessee City we have to make a choice - 49 to the right or 147 to the left. It just so happens that 147 is really nice and connects to ...  
   
  ... one of my favorite roads in this part of the state - 232. Half of it has been freshly paved and it does have a curve or two on it.  
   
  Soon we pop out on highway 79 that will take us across the Tennessee River and Kentucky Lake.  
   
  Les wants me to get a picture of him so he rides past me.  
   
  Little does he know that we are turning off this road in short order, so I have to make haste quickly to get back in front of him.  
   
  But the day is saved, and we make the turn off just in time and soon are headed on the backroads to a special place.  
   
  Sometimes the backroads get to really be backroads. This one reminds of some of the single track roads I traversed in Les's homeland, Scotland.  
   
  And this bridge is so low, it almost makes you want to duck when you go under it.  
   
  But we are making our way to one of the remaining ferries that still cross the Mississippi River. At one time, numerous ferries were in operation in this part of the country where the rivers are wide and numerous. But progress of a sort built bridges so modern man would not have to be bothered by the slower pace of ferry crossings.  
   
  But there is still a delightful one that runs from Hickman to Dorena, called the Dorena-Hickman Ferry ... imagine a name like that! If the ferry is on the other side, you just push the button and wait a spell.  
   
  Pretty soon it makes to our side of the river, hauling a major piece of farming equipment. Farming is a big undertaking in this area of rich river bottom fields and the ferry offers a good way to get back and forth without traversing the Interstate with farm tractors and such.  
   
  Soon the deck is clear, and Les and I are the only outbound guests on this run to the Missouri side. The propelling boat is cleverly designed to swing out and around in the other direction so the pilot is always facing forward.  
   
  But I can't help but chuckle at the sign since it is a little hard to comply with while riding a two wheeled beast.  
   
  The river is a bit choppy today but not bad, some chop coming from the many barges and tugboats plying the channel on business.  
   
  I notice when we land, that they have upgraded the Missouri State Line Sign since the last time I was through here to take a picture.  
   
 

The main reason for this little sideshow to the big show is to take Les to Lambert's Cafe, Home of the Throwed Rolls. This is one of those unique places where the lawyers have not taken away common sense and they actually throw wonderful, hot, fresh dinner rolls at you if you ask. Also, I hope to expand Les's cultural horizons with an introduction to that southern favorite - fried okra.

  
   
  Alas, Les does not quite catch the roll as requested, and it ends up in a couple of pieces on the table. It is still good and quite eatable so it does not go to waste, but it does go to waist. Once the traveling food lady stops by, she delivers us some fried okra for our consumption. As as buzzard gingerly picks his way through a roadside kill, Les purveys the intricacies of the delicacy laid out before him. He does partake and finds it a little 'different'.  
   
  Lambert's is great place where no one goes away hungry unless they aren't paying attention. And much to my joy, the lady that play ragtime piano arrives and begins a joyful rendition of some ragtime favorites.  
   
  Once again thoroughly stuffed, we waddle back out to the STs to continue our journey. I think Les is beginning to understand why I have such heavy duty suspension on all of my bikes!  
   
  From here is is mostly interstate from Sikeston to Casey. We cross back over the Mississippi, only this time on a conveyance of concrete and steel - a little farther away from the water than our earlier crossing.  
   
  But the heat, the food, and the monotony of interstate travel conspire against me and I sense myself nodding. I have a rule that I always try to observe - first nod and I pull over as quickly as possible and take a break. Fortunately there is a rest area nearby and we avail ourselves of the facility.  
   
  Sufficiently recovered, we head back out onto the slab. Soon we are passing by Rend Lake.  
   
  But the combination of too much good food and fatigue grab me again and I have to head for the nearest rest area. This time I find a spot under a shade tree and take a quick nap. When I wake up, Les is patiently standing there wondering if I have turned into Rip Van Winkle or not.  
   
 

This time I am able to keep functioning which is fortunate as we are getting into construction and heavier traffic. I notice this wonderful, beckoning Cross off to my right and it reminds me again of just how good my Savior is to me. I am amazed to think that I am riding down the road with a friend all the way from Scotland. And what is more amazing, is that I have been able to stay at his place and put my feet under his table, thousands of miles away. If someone had told me when I was a poor kid growing up that I would travel to a place like Scotland and ride a motorcycle there, I would have ask them -

"Whose still have you been sippin' from?"

It is only His Grace, His Mercy, and His Provision that has allowed me to do the things that I have done and go to the places that I have been. And for that I will always be eternally thankful.

  
   
  Traffic is traffic and it soon rips me from my contemplation. If a motorcyclist is not careful in these kind of situations, he can become the filling in a metal sandwich in short order.  
   
  When we finally arrive at Casey, we go ahead and gas up. I prefer to gas up the night before so I am ready to roll the next morning. We find out from some other riders the details for the supper gathering and then head just over the interstate to where we will be spending the night.  
   
  The Moonshine Gathering, started by the late Terry Hammond, has grown and grown each year. In fact, when Les e-mailed me about coming over and attending early, there were no motels with rooms anywhere nearby. On a hunch, I checked with the local KOA and they had a cabin open. It turns out to be a lot nicer that I had anticipated and for that we are thankful.  
   
  With our stuff properly pitched, we head for the supper gathering at Richard's Farm, a great local restaurant. I get to catch up with old friends, meet new ones, and introduce Les to them. Miss Carole, one of my favorite ladies, sees my walking stick and helps me get my plate fixed at the buffet.  
   
  Poor Les, left to his own devices, manages to find a few slim morsels to consume - or was this the third time that he went back ...  
   
 

After supper, there are various presentations and remembrances about Terry, who passed way suddenly last year on November 19th. He was the founder and spark plug for the Moonshine Lunch Run and this piece from the website says it best -

Terry "Austin City Limits" Hammond
11/05/1957 - 11/19/2010

Terry Hammond was a friend to everyone he met, but especially other long-distance motorcyclists. Even those he never met in person he counted among his friends, and his willingness to open his home and heart to any rider was truly epic. Terry was a Midwestern gentleman, an eighth generation farmer, a family man, a committed Christian, a skilled tinkerer, a community benefactor, and a funny, funny guy. He could sing, cry, laugh and ride, and did them all with relentless enthusiasm. The Moonshine Lunch Run was Terry's concept and it meant the world to him, but it was never about him. All the work, all the effort, and all the love he put into this unique event was for the riders.

He was wise enough to set up a board to continue the great tradition before he passed away and for that many people are and will be thankful. Some things that we do live far past our mortality, and this event will be one of those.

I take the time to meet Miss Cindy, his wife and spend a little time talking to his son about various things. I understand a little bit about losing a dad, since mine has been gone a long time. Hopefully I am some encouragement to him in this very difficult time. As things wind down, I collect Les and we head back to our cabin for the evening.

  
   
  It's been a long but delightful day, but my bones are ready for much needed rest. Tomorrow is the lunch run and then a long slab ride back to the Holler. It doesn't take long for me to find that place of rest tonight.