48 for 22 Ride

This past year one of my brothers from the Desert Knights of America Motorcycle Club (DKMC), Danny Farrar, (or Mayhem as we call him) formed a non-profit organization to fight the suicide rate among our veterans called 22 Needs a Face.  Every day 22 service members succumb to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and seek to end the pain by taking their own lives.  This must change, and in order to do this 22 Needs A Face launched a three-pronged attack to combat this silent enemy.

First, through events that cater to our veteran community we seek to restore the camaraderie that many are missing from their time in the service.

Secondly, we seek to educate the masses that this is in fact a mental disease that requires help and treatment.

Lastly, we will work to enact legislation that will keep those who suffer from PTSD from being denied opportunities for careers or promotion.

Through this three-pronged attack our goal is to ultimately help our soldiers in need and defeat PTSD.

This year I plan to do what I can to help 22 Needs a Face fight that battle.  Over a 15-day period I will be motorcycling across the country, visiting 48 states. The purpose of my trip is to raise funds to support 22 Needs A Face and raise awareness about PTSD and the toll it is taking on our service members.  

I'll be leaving Haymarket, Virginia on September 19, 2015 and riding about 9000 miles over the next 15 days passing through and/or touching all lower 48 states in the great USA.  I'll finish the ride at the Rally in the Valley in Cumberland, Maryland on October 3rd.

Rally in the Valley is a two day outdoor event with music, car and motorcycle shows, and camping located at Allegany County Fairgrounds (11400 Moss Avenue Cumberland, MD 21502) on Saturday, October 3 and Sunday, October 4.   Musical acts for the rally include:

• Saliva
• Drowning Pool
• Jason Michael Carroll
• Shane Gamble
• Southern Charm
• Bad Seed Rising
• Let There be Rock School – Frederick

100% of the proceeds from Rally in the Valley are going to three different non-profits fighting for those who fought for us; Active Heroes, Project 22, and 22 Needs a Face!  Project 22 is a documentary film that follows two Combat Veterans on a motorcycle mission to raise awareness and to search for hope.  I was fortunate enough to attend the first public viewing of the film in Frederick, Maryland on May 2nd and meet the directors of the film, Dan and Doc.  It was an awesome experience.  I can't wait to share my ride experiences with Mayhem, Doc, and Dan when I see them again at the rally.

Below are details about the 48 for 22 Ride.

This is the scheduled ride across the U.S.

The total trip plots out at 8,768 miles, plus another 126 miles from the rally site to home.  By the time I throw in a wrong turn or two and a couple of unscheduled detours, I'm guessing I'll have over 9,000 miles by the time I get back.

Day 1 Route

Day 1 of the ride starts out from home in Virginia and takes me through West Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina and South Carolina with an overnight stop in Commerce, Georgia.  Photo stops include the WV State Capitol in Charleston, Harley-Davidson of Pikeville in Pikesville, KY, the historic Netherland Inn in Kingston, TN, Pack's Tavern in Asheville, NC, and the Shoeless Joe Jackson Statue in the historic west end of Greenville, SC before a stop for the night at the Motel 6 in Commerce, GA.

Day 2 Route

Day 2 includes stops at the Georgia State Capitol in Atlanta, the Alabama State Capitol in Montgomery, a dip further south to catch the National Naval Aviation Museum in Pensacola, FL, and an overnight stop with my mom and dad in Foley, AL right after quick visits to the Flora-Bama Lounge and The Hangout (two stops I can't pass up if I'm within about 100 miles).  Plus, the need to catch the corner of Florida is a good excuse to spend a few hours with the folks.

Day 3 Route

Day 3 takes me from Foley to the USS Alabama Battleship park for a sunrise picture.  From there it's on to Jackson for a visit at the Mississippi State Capitol.  The rest of the day includes a stop for lunch at The Dock in Lake Providence, LA (that's after a quick stop in US-65 to get a picture of the bat painted on the water tower in Transylvania, LA) the Arkansas State Capitol in Little Rock, and overnight at the Motel 6 in Bentonville, AR.

Day 4 Route

Day 4 includes a photo-op at Hideout Harley-Davidson in Joplin, MO, breakfast at the Cafe on the Route in Baxter Springs, KS, a visit with the in-laws in Bristow, OK, a photo stop at the Oklahoma State Capitol in Oklahoma City and dinner at the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo, TX where I won't be taking on the 72-oz Steak Challenge, but I will be eating dinner before calling it a night at the Motel 6 up the road.

Day 5 Route

Day 5 is the longest day in the plan at 770 miles, but since I gain a couple of hours due to changing time zones, it seems doable.  I'm going from Amarillo to Flagstaff, AZ with stops at the Cadillac Ranch a few miles west of Amarillo, the Route 66 sign in Tucumcari, New Mexico, lunch at Silva's Saloon in Bernalillo, NM, Four Corners Harley-Davidson in Farmington, NM, Four Corners Monument where Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona come together (this is all I get to see of Utah and Colorado on the ride), and overnight at the Motel 6 in Flagstaff.

Day 6 Route

Day 6 includes an indulgence on my part to see the Grand Canyon.  I've never seen it from the ground and decided this might be a good opportunity to catch the sunrise there.  After the Grand Canyon it's on to Las Vegas for a stop at the Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign as well as Las Vegas Harley-Davidson.  Then on to Zabriskie Point in Death Valley, CA to an overnight stop at the Motel 6 in Beatty, NV.

Day 7 Route

Day 7 takes me across Nevada from south to north.  I'll look for photo-ops at the Nevada-Oregon state line in McDermitt, NV as well as along US-95 through southeast Oregon as I make my way to my overnight stop at the Motel 6 near the airport in Boise, Idaho.

Day 8 Route

Day 8 will take me north to my western most point in the ride at the Blue Bridge over the Snake River in Clarkston, Washington.  This day includes stops at Hells Canyon Harley-Davidson in Lewiston, ID, then into Montana for a ride across that state with a stop at Evel Knievel's grave in Butte and on to my overnight stop at the Motel 6 in Bozeman, MT.

Day 9 Route

Day 9 takes me from Bozeman to Chadron, Nebraska, with stops at Beartooth Harley-Davidson in Billings, MT, the Little Bighorn Battlefield in southeastern Montana, Devils Tower in northeastern Wyoming, the geographic center of the US in Belle Fourche, South Dakota, Sturgis Harley-Davidson in Sturgis, SD (I'll be about two months too late, but I gotta stop in Sturgis) and then on to my overnight stop at the Motel 6 in Chadron.

Day 10 Route

Day 10 starts with a photo-op at Chadron State College to prove I made it to Nebraska, then on to Pierre, South Dakota at the State Capitol, the Payne Stewart Memorial Rock in Mina, SD, lunch at Maverick's in Aberdeen, SD (I have to stop at a place called Maverick's) then on to my overnight stop at the Motel 6 in Fargo, North Dakota.

Day 11 Route

Day 11 includes stops at the FargoDome at North Dakota State University, the Minnesota State Capitol in Saint Paul, the movie location for Field of Dreams in Dyersville, Iowa (yes, it's the site of the farm house and baseball field surrounded by cornfields) then to Madison, Wisconsin for a picture of the State Capitol and my next Motel 6.

Day 12 Route

Day 12 takes me from Madison to Chicago where I hope I can avoid major traffic delays and cruise over to Soldier Field and Alder Planetarium for a great picture of the Chicago skyline.  From Chicago, I make my way to Geneva, Ohio, with stops at Notre Dame Stadium in South Bend, Indiana, Hamilton's Harley-Davidson in Sturgis, Michigan and the Rock-and-Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, OH.  I end the night at the Motel 6 in Geneva.

Day 13 Route

Day 13 has me leaving Ohio and passing through the far northwest corner of Pennsylvania on my way to stops at the Anchor Bar (home of the original Buffalo wings) in Buffalo, New York, then across the NY Thruway to the State Capitol in Albany, NY.  From Albany, I visit the Bennington Battle Monument in Bennington, Vermont, on to the New Hampshire State House in Concord, NH and finish the night at the Motel 6 in Portsmouth, NH.

Day 14 Route

Day 14 has me trying to catch a sunrise in Maine at the Sarah Mildred Long Bridge over the Piscataqua River at the New Hampshire-Maine state line.  Then to a stop in downtown Boston for a picture of the Massachusetts State House and other historic sites in Boston.  From Boston, it's on to Providence, Rhode Island for a picture of the RI State House.  The Connecticut State Capitol in Hartford is the next stop.  From Hartford, I attempt to bypass New York City and make my way to Liberty Park in Jersey City, New Jersey for a picture of the Statue of Liberty.  Philadelphia is my next stop for an evening at the Liberty Bell and Freedom Hall before calling it a night at the Motel 6 in Brooklawn, NJ.

Day 15 Route ending at Rally in the Valley

Day 15, the last day of the trip, has me traveling to stops at the Delaware State Capitol in Dover, DE, then to the Maryland State House in Annapolis, MD, the United States Capitol in Washington, DC, the United States Marine Corp Memorial in Arlington, Virginia, and then on to the Allegheny County fairgrounds in Cumberland to party with the masses at Rally in the Valley.

I encourage all my friends and family in the Virginia-Maryland-Pennsylvania-West Virginia area to plan on attending.  Even if you're not a biker, come on out and share an amazing couple of days with us.  If all goes as plan, I'll arrive sometime mid-afternoon on October 3rd ready for some partying and at least one or two cold beverages.

I hope to see you there!!!

Stay tuned to the blog and Facebook for updates about the ride and opportunities to sponsor the ride as well as make donations to 22 Needs a Face as the time approaches.

What I Learned from My Summer 2013 Ride

The best thing about my rides is that they are educational.  And I'm not talking only about the history I get to relive while riding, but about the things I learn about myself on these rides.  Here's a few things I learned about myself this summer:

1. The worst rain storm I've ever ridden in is the last one I rode in.  I hit rain in Kentucky, then again in Oklahoma, and then again in Tennessee and Virginia.  Everyone of those storms seemed like hell under water at the time I was riding through them.  I couldn't see and since every one of them but Oklahoma occurred on interstates, each brought it share of terror with traffic moving all around me.  (I was out in the middle of nowhere in Oklahoma, so at least that one was a private hour or so of terror.)  I actually remember having to remind myself to breathe a few times and I was gripping the handle bars so tight I'm surprised I don't have permanent finger imprints in them.  Still, I rode on and survived.  Maybe they weren't that bad.  Ah, hell no, they ABSOLUTELY were that bad!  I had no business riding in that stuff, yet I did.  In hindsight it was stupid to keep riding, but I've never been very good at pulling over and waiting out the storm.  The second lesson with this one is, LEARN TO PULL OVER AND WAIT OUT THE STORM!

More rain! ugh!

2. I can be alone without being lonely.  I probably already knew this about myself, but this trip in particular made that clear to me.  Luckily, I got to see friends in Colorado and family in Oklahoma and Texas, so that helped prevent any hits of homesickness. Plus Renee came to Texas in the middle of the trip, so I got to see her too.  Still, like all my single rider trips, I found myself eating alone, sleeping alone, and hanging out alone.  I think I like myself well enough that being alone wasn't the worst thing.  Don't get me wrong.  I love my family and friends, but I can do "alone" when I need to.  I don't relish being alone, but I'm good with just hanging out with me.

One of the lonely roads I traveled this summer.

3. I'm convinced I am reincarnated from the 19th century.  I can't get enough of the history associated with the 1800's.  It doesn't matter if it is the history of riding herd from Texas to Kansas, just riding across the plains, or the worst of our US history related to the Civil War.  I have an incredibly deep sense of connection with that era.  As I write this I can't find the words to describe what I feel when I visit places that are a part of this history.  It feels not only like I've been there before, but almost like I never left.  Maybe my old life and new life cross some supernatural, electrical path in these places.  Regardless, it's a feeling that draws me back and one that I hope I never lose.

Yee haw...get along little dogie!

4. I still don't know whether these trips are my way of running away from something or running toward something.  Probably neither given I believe sometimes we just do things just because we can.  However, "Running toward" something sounds more positive, so I suppose I want to believe that, but who knows.  I do take advantage of the trips to learn about the area I am riding through and find something interesting to see, but that's not why I go.  Maybe it's just a need to spend some time sorting things out in my head.  There's nothing like riding a motorcycle for 800 miles in a day to give you time to think.  Still, I can't honestly sit here and say that I am thinking profound thoughts all the time.  Some of it is the same ol' drivel that meanders through our brains at any given time.  But, the total collection is a feeling of contentment that makes it all worthwhile.

This ride was easy to define.  I was riding toward something...my little Kayla...

...the wonderful wedding of my niece, Stephanie, to her love Cameron...

...and the great time I had at Josh's and Jillian's wedding that created the excuse for this ride in the first place!

5. I mentioned earlier that I am OK with being alone.  The most important thing I learned is that I like me.  As fucked up as I am in so many ways, (Ask Renee, I think she's keeping a list) still, I like myself and that's a really nice place to be.  Don't get me wrong.  Life isn't a bunch of puppy dogs and rainbows.  I mess up on a regular basis.  Still, I have a good life, full of wonderful family and friends and that's a pretty good predicament to be in.  So, if you struggle with liking yourself, here's some advice.  Give yourself a break.  Everyone screws up.  We talk about forgiveness for others, but sometimes, it's hardest just to forgive yourself.  You owe it to yourself to grant you a little forgiveness and give yourself a pass.  Screwing up is a part of life.  Getting up and doing better is the important part of life.

'Til next time.

P.S.  One last confession.  I really like the song Say Something by A Great Big World that features Christina Aguilera.  The passion and emotion they convey in that song always gets me.  Does that make be a candy-ass?  Maybe, but it's still a good song.

A Tribute to My Brothers (By Birth and Otherwise)

I have two natural born brothers that I love with all my heart.  One of the toughest parts of my life was a time when I lost my relationship with them and they weren't a part of my life.  That lasted for more years than any of us would want to admit.  I know I am ashamed of myself for letting that misunderstanding lead to losing them from my life for a period of time.  

Still, we all do stupid shit in our life and that was certainly one of mine.  Luckily, time and a little humility enabled us to get our relationships back.  Unfortunately, it'll never be the same, but at least it's better and moving in the right direction.  I know I can reach out to them even if my pride might not let me.  It's a "guy thing" and it allows me to not have to worry about our relationship.  I know they are there when I need them.  I hope they know I'm there for them too.

In addition to my brothers by birth, I also have a set of brothers that bring a completely different perspective into my life.  In 2007, I was lucky enough to be taken into a brotherhood called the Desert Knights of America Motorcycle Club or DKMC, for short.  DKMC is a traditional motorcycle club founded on the principles of the original motorcycle clubs of the late 1940's.

Every aspect of our colors has significant meaning to those of us who wear it.  And, yes, that's me standing in the cold during one of our many charity poker runs to raise money for our favorite cause, Fisher House. 

In the late 1940's the end of World War II saw young men returning from combat. Many found the transition back to "the real world" more monotonous and "normal" than they could handle.  As a result, some formed motorcycle clubs in a search for something, anything, that could get their blood pumping again and help them feel that same sense of brotherhood they felt with the fellow soldiers.

Today we see many similarities in our combat troops returning from Iraq and Afghanistan.  The DKMC is there for them, giving them a safe place to land where they aren't judged and where they can feel comfortable and find "kindred spirits".  As one of our patches says, "Brothers in War...Brothers in Peace. Desert Era Veterans for Desert Era Veterans."

I'm not a "Desert Era Veteran", but somehow this incredible band of brothers allowed me to become a part of their world.  For that, I am eternally grateful.  Unfortunately, I suffer from a malady most Americans suffer from.  I have never been in combat.  I label it a malady because not having experienced combat means we can't even begin to understand the things they have been asked to do for their country.  Yet many people want to express opinions about how our returning servicemen and women should act and behave with little consideration for what they have been through.

That's not a problem in the club.  Our brotherhood is all about welcoming these men home and treating them with the respect they so richly deserve.  Sure, like any big family, we have our squabbles and at times, they seem really important.  But, the most important thing is that we remain brothers.  We get over whatever differences we have and we maintain that respect for each other.

I was given the road name of Maverick because of my wandering ways that are the crux of this blog.  A maverick is a steer or cow that's part of a herd, but seems to go its own way.  Marching to the beat of a different drummer, you might say.  The maverick is still part of the herd, but you can never be sure when he'll wander off again.

I guess I fit the mold.  I love being a part of my "herd", the DKMC.  Even when I wander off on some misadventure that takes me on the back roads of America by myself, I always know that this absurd, unbelievable and courageous group of young men have my back.  It's an awesome feeling.

Still, I hope my birth brothers and my DKMC brothers know that with Maverick, they have a brother who operates in a world governed by loyalty and honor, character and integrity, respect and love.

Wedding Ride - Summer of 2013 - Tennessee

From Florence, it was only another 20 miles or so to the Tennessee state line.  As usual, I made that trip a little longer because I had some unique stops I wanted to hit.  So, a few miles south of the state line, I swung east on AL-64 and ran parallel to the state line for a few more miles, not wanting to leave Alabama quite yet.  I took County Road 93 north and crossed into Tennessee on the not so beaten path.  CR-93 became Dobbins Road.  Dobbins Road took me to Warren Hollow Road which took me to Appleton Road which took me to the Big Red Store in Five Points, Tennessee.

Established in 1902, The Big Red Store featured a wide array of merchandise that included everything from coffee to coffins.  Today it has been reopened as as museum of sorts.  It wasn't open when I made my visit so I didn't get to go inside.

According to my map, I could continue down Appleton Road toward the east and ultimately get to Sam Davis Road where my next stop was located.  I made an attempt to do that, but only got a short distance down the dirt road before I decided it was just too small for me and my Harley.  I found a spot to turn around and went back the way I had come.  Instead of turning onto Dobbins Road, I was able to take Warren Hollow Road to TN-11 (Minor Hill Road) and ride in the relative safety of good blacktop to my next stop.

My next stop honored Sam Davis. Sam Davis is called the Boy Hero of the Confederacy.  He served in various combat roles in the Confederate army in 1861 through 1863 during the Civil War.  As a Confederate courier, he was captured by Union troops on November 19, 1863.

This monument honors the site where Sam Davis was captured near Minor Hill, Tennessee on November 19, 1863.

Davis was captured wearing a makeshift Confederate uniform and in possession of Union battle plans.  He would not give the name of who gave him the items.  For this reason, he was arrested as a spy, and was seen as ineligible for the privileges of a prisoner of war.  Instead, he was sentenced by a drumhead military court to die by hanging unless he was willing to divulge the name of his contact.  He is purported to have said, "No, I cannot.  I would rather die a thousand deaths than betray a friend or be false to a duty."

As he was carried to the hanging site sitting on top of his own coffin, Union soldiers along the road begged him to cooperate because they didn't want to see him executed.  Supposedly the officer in charge of the execution was uneasy about the execution because of Davis' young age (Davis was only 21 years old) and calm demeanor and had trouble carrying out his orders.  Davis is alleged to have said to him, "Officer, I did my duty. Now, you do yours."  On November 27, he was executed by the Union Army after being held for only seven days. 

The Sam Davis Memorial in Pulaski, Tennessee at the hanging site.

Davis wrote a letter to his mother before the execution. "Dear mother. O how painful it is to write you! I have got to die tomorrow --- to be hanged by the Federals. Mother, do not grieve for me. I must bid you good-bye forevermore. Mother, I do not fear to die. Give my love to all." There was a postscript for his father, too. "Father, you can send after my remains if you want to do so. They will be at Pulaski, Tenn. I will leave some things with the hotel keeper for you."

The statue to Sam Davis that stands outside the Giles County Courthouse in Pulaski.

Although drawn to Pulaski by the Sam Davis attractions, I found another quaint little southern town.  Pulaski is apparently considered the "Wild Turkey Capital of Tennessee," after its large turkey population.  I discovered this as I walked around the town square and encountered a couple of turkeys sitting on the sidewalks.

These colorful turkeys were sprinkled throughout the town of Pulaski.

Every year, Giles County is one of five to host the Governor's One-Shot Turkey Hunt, where people come from all over the United States to try to bag a turkey in a single shot.

On Roadside America, I had read about a plaque in Pulaski that also got my attention.  This plaque was originally hung on the wall of a law office in the 1920s to commemorate the location where the Ku Klux Klan was founded by a group of Confederate War veterans in 1865.  Apparently, the plaque reads, "Ku Klux Klan organized in this, the law office of Judge Thomas M. Jones, Dec. 24, 1865".  

I say apparently because in 1990 the building was purchased by a new owner.  Instead of removing the plaque and giving Klan supporters a potential lighting rod for demonstrations he reversed the plaque so that now only the smooth bronze surface is visible to passers-by.

The backside of the plaque that supposedly commemorates the location where the KKK was founded in 1865.

The KKK plaque sits less than a block off the town square, so I continued my walk around the town.  Given it was about 12:30 and I hadn't eaten breakfast, my primary goal became to find someplace to eat other than the usual fast food choices.  I was convinced there had to be something on the square given the county courthouse was there.  But, it wasn't until I walked the last block that I spotted Reeves Drugstore and Soda Fountain.

The Giles County Courthouse.  Note the time 12:30 on the tower clock.  I was hungry.

Reeve's was an old fashioned Soda Fountain. 5 cent cokes in the 8 oz. bottles and a short order menu.

A chili dog and a diet coke with chips turned out to be lunch.

After a terrific chili dog at Reeves Drugstore and Soda Fountain, I headed on to Lynchburg, Tennessee.  I had to cruise through the Lynchburg City Cemetery to find my next stop, but I quickly spotted it.  I visited the grave of Jack Daniel.  Most of us know Jack Daniel for his Old No. 7 Tennessee Sour Mash Whiskey that's distilled here in Lynchburg. 

A town fire destroyed the courthouse records, and conflicting dates on Jack Daniel's and his mother's headstones have left his date of birth in question.  But, there's strong evidence that the correct birth date is actually September 5, 1849.  Jack died October 10, 1911 at the age of 62.

The welcome center at the Jack Daniel's Distillery in Lynchburg, Tennessee.

Despite being the location of a major operational distillery, Jack Daniel's home county of Moore is a dry county, so the product is not available for consumption at stores or restaurants within the county.

Jack Daniel's is the highest selling American whiskey in the world.

From Lynchburg, I made a beeline for Crossville, Tennessee and Interstate-40.  Once I hit I-40, it was going to be interstate the rest of the way home.  For today though, I only needed to get to Johnson City, Tennessee.  I had picked Johnson City because 1) it had a Motel 6, and 2) it would put me within a few hours of home making the final leg of the ride pretty easy (or so I thought).

I enjoyed the Tennessee countryside as I made my way to I-40.  Once I hit the interstate though, it became all about making up time and speed.  The biggest problem with the remainder of my ride was that I-40 and I-81 are major trucking roads.  That meant sharing the road with 18-wheelers.  Frankly, I feel safer among the truckers than I do passenger cars.  While it can be very intimidating to ride alongside tons of steel trailer and rubber, at least truckers know how to use their mirrors and check for a lone motorcyclist alongside them.  A lot of passenger cars can't be bothered with that minor detail and will pull right over into your lane.

I made good time on I-40 with the only problem being passing through Knoxville at rush hour.  Hell, I've done rush hour in Houston and Dallas, Texas and now, Washington, DC.  Knoxville's rush hour ain't shit.  I hit a few rain drops just before stopping for gas off exit 407 on I-40.  If you've driven I-40 around Knoxville, you'll recognize exit 407 as being the one that takes you to Sevierville, Gatlinburg, and more importantly, Dollywood!

I decided to don the rain gear at my gas stop since I had had a few drops and it was looking nasty toward the east.  It turned out to be a smart move because I hadn't gone much farther on I-40 before I hit a major rain storm.  It's a bit of a misleading statement to say I was wearing rain gear.  My rain pants have been held together by duct tape for the last ten years, so I don't want to imply that I actually get any protection from the wet weather.  Generally speaking, the water collects in the crotch of the rain pants and ensures that even the slightest rain shower leaves me looking like a wet my pants once I remove the rain gear.

Still, this was another one of those rain storms that had me questioning my sanity as I rode along behind a car with their emergency flashers going because no one could do more than about 25-mph in the storm.  I'm sure people drove by me thinking, "Geez, look at that poor bastard!"  Of course, what the were really saying was, "Geez, look at the stupid idiot!"  Actually, I have no idea what they were saying because it was raining too hard to be able to see in the car in the lane next to me.

The rain finally ended by the time I got to I-26 and took it south to Johnson City and my Motel 6.  Since I was soaked and they had conveniently put a Domino's Pizza number on my motel key, I decided to order pizza and call it a night.  I had a little more than 500 miles under my belt for the day and found it very satisfying to sit in my room and watch TV and listen to the rain.  Hell, let the pizza man get wet for a while.

My ride home the next day was only 380 miles.  Unfortunately, the first 200 of those miles were in the rain and again, it felt like an idiotic decision to ride alongside 18-wheelers and other traffic in a rain that made it impossible to see more than 100-feet in front of me.  Somehow I survived.  I attribute that to my guardian angel versus my riding skills.

It was a great trip.  I did more than 4700 miles over about eight days of riding.  Man, I love riding that motorcycle!