FRIENDS 2011
 
 

Day 06

April 12

 
Fortunately or unfortunately, it is lightly raining when we rise up early and make our way on highway 129. The good news we will probably not be assaulted by Ricky Racer Wannabes because of the rain. The bad news we will need to exercise extra caution while we navigate the Gap.  
 
I snap the obligatory shots of Les on RedBird in the deserted parking lot. On sunny Fridays and Saturdays you can hardly get in here for all of the bikes.  
 
So it's sort of nice to have the place to ourselves even if it is just a little bit wet.  
 

And no trip to the Gap would be complete without a trip to the 'Tree of Shame'. Here the remains of motorcycle bodywork is hung from the various crashes that have occurred. I distinctly remember reading one rider's comments a while back -

"I've crashed on the Gap 18 times"

as if this was something to be proud of it. Basically it meant that 18 times he rode beyond his abilities. I'm a little slow but if he keeps it up, he'll probably be thinning out the gene pool before long. And unfortunately, there are some memorials at the tree about the folks that never made it back from the ride. People like to assign 'personality' to this place, but it's just another piece of twisty asphalt that has no emotions. It does not really care if you don't have enough brains and discipline to ride without crashing.

 
 

Since I've ridden this road in the winter, at night, and many times, I tell Les -

"Go ahead buddy, you lead out. That way you can ride it the way you want to without me being in the way."

And it is really nice as we indeed have it all to ourselves. I can take leisurely pace through it without being concerned about some adrenaline junkie hitting me from behind or some dodah swinging wide in the curve and hitting me head-on.(Note: a little over a month later there were two fatalities on this road from a head-on collision of two motorcycles.)

 
 
It's nice to be able to get some shots of the road as I make my way along the twistier bits.  
 
And it's curves like this that usually suck people in They come flying around the curve to be faced with one that tightens up faster than they can respond. If folks would learn not to ride past what they can see, they would probably ride a lot longer with a lot less drama.  
 
I had told Les to just keep going until he got down on the flats beside the lake, but my hillbilly English evidently didn't translate well. He has pulled into a lake overlook about half way through, which is fine with me.  
 
I tell him to take the lead again so he can enjoy this opportunity to the fullest. When we do get down to the flat, I have to crank it bit to pass because our turn off is coming up quickly.  
 
We head up the Foothills Parkway, another great run. But I can't help but chuckle at this sign considering the temperatures we're experiencing at the moment. In fact, I could stand a little ice right now in a big glass of iced tea.  
 
And like the Natchez Trace Parkway, the Foothills Parkway has it's share of Ben Franklin's favorite bird. He thought the turkey ought to be the US national bird instead of the eagle because of their industrious nature. But we all know how that discussion ended up ....  
 
It looks like the rain is really starting to settle in, so I stop at an overlook to put on my rain trousers. I am not really fond of sitting in wet britches, so this is as good a place as any.  
 
The rain picks up, so I am really glad that I stopped. And the fog begins to drift it which calls for more caution as we ride.  
 
I was hoping that a restaurant was going at a certain turnoff, but it appears that it is another victim of the economy. Scanning my 'wetware', I remember an old standby just north of Sevierville. It will be a bit of a pain to get there, but it's about the only game in town given the way we are headed. So I guide us into Cracker Barrel which is always a good, safe alternative for breakfast - one where that Les has already had some cultural exchange.  
 
Once again, he is a terror at the plate but no forks or spoons are destroyed in the process. With breakfast properly dispatched, we head northward on our journey to one of my favorite roads. We cross back over the river just west of Strawberry Plains on our way to Norris Dam via Lutrell, Maynardsville and points beyond.  
 
And there are a 'few' curves along the way that we are 'forced' to negotiate, but we don't complain much.  
 
When we take a short break, Les seems confused. I don't know if it is the constant curves, the biscuits and gravy or possible the grits that are the source of his confusion. But then again, it could just be his normal state.  
 
Back at it, the rain continues to be our constant companion. But there are lots of things worse that riding in the rain, like working!  
 
We come to a series of hairpins that take extra care today since they are wet. You just never know out in the country just what might be on the roads mixed with the water - and some of it can be mighty slick not to mention mighty smelly.  
 
Soon we are across the Norris Dam and I take Les up to the overlook. It gives you a great view of the Dam and the beginning of the reservoir. This was the first dam built under the guidance of the TVA and the town of Norris was built as a planned community to house construction workers on the dam - all back in the 1930s.  
 
But soon we are over the dam and pass through Lake City to get to the business that we came to do. We are on one of the most technical roads in Tennessee that I call the 'prison road'.  
 
It is not the sort of road that you want your attention lapse on, because a riding mistake up here could be the last one that you make.  
 
There are plenty of hairpins and twists and turns to negotiate as it weaves up and down the mountains and valleys for twenty five miles.  
 

But it is a delight to ride on a bike if you like challenges and don't mind a noticeable absence of guard rails. There are places on this road that I tell folks -

"If you run off, we won't bother to come looking for you. We'll just put up a sign that you were here. Cause chances are you and your motorcycle will be in a bunch of small pieces at the bottom."

 
 
But it seems too soon as we pass by the Brush Mountain State Prison where they used to put the really bad boys. For a while, we are in less challenging riding. When we come to Clarkrange, it's a good place to take a break for bike and human fuel.  
 
I can't help but notice they have copies of the Ten Commandments painted on stone outside the building. Sometimes I think folks mistake them for the Ten Suggestions.  
 
But I still have some good roads on the agenda, so after our break we set out again.  
 
We make a good run down highway 85 which has quite a few tight hairpins as it makes its way down the mountain.  
 
The sun fully breaks out and we are back in the dry for the rest of the way to the Holler. And for that we are thankful!  
 
We make run alongside the Granville highway then on to highway 96 which will take us all the way back to Nashville.  
 
It has some pretty sweet twists and turns but unfortunately will take us through of couple of sizable cities in the process.  
 
When we get into Murfreesboro, it's back to the land of traffic and stop lights. But we manage to get through without too much trouble.  
 
Franklin turns out to be a quick traverse, and soon we are passing under the Natchez Trace bridge that we crossed yesterday.  
 
From here it's a just a short back road ride to the Holler and we get back in time for Les to tend to his packing up and such.  
 

Tomorrow he gets back on the plane for Scotland and I head back to work. We do not know when we will be able to spend time together again. But at least for a few fleeting days, we had the privilege of sharing our lives, time and roads together as only true friends can. Just remember -

At the end of the day, you have memories and friends when all else fails. And these are things that the world cannot take away.