The reservations had been made for over five months so I was past ready to get on with this trip. The very idea of traveling to England and then on to Scotland was a dream come true. My great grandmother was Molly McPherson from Scotland, so the idea of seeing the land where some of my ancestors grew up was fascinating. So when I got the call from Guy that he just got on the Trace in Collingwood, I suited up, mount the SweetTreat and headed out. I've ridden the Trace top to bottom several times and know the top end of it very well. As I motored along, I did a little mental calculation of where he was and timing and such.

“Hmm, I ought to see him either at highway 7 or highway 50 if he ain't speeding.”

Speeding on the Trace nets you a federal ticket, so I hope he plays it smart today. The top end of the Trace is a lovely combination of great pavement and undulating curves. With no commercial traffic allowed (i.e., no semis) and very little traffic, it's one of the most peaceful rides in the USA.

Well, I am zipping along as fast as I dare and I see a lone pickup truck (the only vehicle I've seen for 40 miles). Just as I zip by I see the one I've been looking for tucked in behind it. A quick application of the binders, a U-turn and I catch up to him.

“Man, I'm glad to see you bro. Almost whizzed right by you.”

“Yeah, that's the only time I've been behind somebody.”

We shake hands and head for the Holler, catch up to the truck and get past him so we can enjoy the curves. When we arrive at the house, Guy pulls off his helmet and he looks like he's been on a 2 day drunk. His eyes are swelled up and his brain is trying to run out of his nose. My wife, Sharyn, heads for the medicine cabinet, and we administer some eye drops and allergy medicine. The stuff starts to work for him, so we all get ready to head for Loveless Café for supper. It's a local place that originally was the personal home of the Loveless family.

When highway 100 was one of the main roads from Nashville to Memphis, they would serve travelers biscuits and fried chicken. They later added a motel and turned their home into a restaurant. After changing hands a few times and going into a period of decline, the new owners have done a great job of restoration and improvement. We arrive and are seated quickly in the new dining room. Out come the famous homemade biscuits and preserves, and they live up to their billing as always. Soon the fried chicken and all of the fixings come out. We enjoy talking about our previous rides together and the big one coming up. Two southern boys riding in the United Kingdom is something dreams are made of and we are about to live the dream. After topping off the meal with their chocolate cream pie that's so good it'll make your tongue beat your brains out, we waddle back to the car. Since we don't know what we will encounter at Customs tomorrow, we decide we will hit the airport early just in case. So it's back to the Holler for a short night's rest to prepare for the start of a great adventure.