No Plans to Mile Zero, Day 1

Plans… or Not

Fri, Apr 13, 2012
Copyright (c) 2012, Jim Beachy

It is 7:27 am and I back my Gold Wing out of the driveway, wave a quick good-bye to Kitty standing in doorway, and engage the clutch to start a trip I know less about than any I have ever taken.  The temperature is 37F, and my concession to the temperature is that I’m wearing my winter riding suit over a T-shirt, long-sleeved shirt, and a sweater.  No electric heated clothing this trip.  I expect I’ll be heading south, but my plans are so unformed that I’m not even sure, so I should be prepared for any contingency.

My brother-in-law and I had planned a ride to Tampa, Florida for his grandson’s third birthday party but he had to cancel.  I’d already cleared my work schedule for a Friday-through-Tuesday time off, but with the Tampa trip cancelled, I thought maybe I’d just take off Friday and ride to the Smokies to enjoy some of the famous motorcycle rides like Deal’s Gap and the Cherohala Skyway.  But when I was talking to my boss about why someone would simply ride for the joy of riding, where the destination is often secondary, she said “I think you should go for it!  Take the days off.” 

Thus inspired, I have contemplated for the past several days where I might ride.  Key West is always in the periphery of my thoughts when I think of a 5-day solo ride, but as I roll out of our development I don’t have a plan except Step 1:  I’ve made arrangements to see my good friend Ray for lunch in North Carolina.  Ray and I have ridden more miles together than the combination of all the other people we’ve ridden with; due to medical issues he has mostly retired from riding and I haven’t seen him a while.  We’ve arranged a meeting place.  It’s enough of a plan for now.  Enough plans for Solo Guy.

So I ride, stealthy in a silent cocoon of still air behind the bike’s big fairing, and I watch my Gold Wing devour the magic carpet sliding effortlessly beneath me.  I opt for no radio, no tapes, no iPod, no CB radio..  Only the silent cocoon and the occasional sound of American Jill, my GPS voice, as she issues a trip routing instruction.  Solo Guy is comfortable with extraordinarily long periods of silence, and it just seems right at the moment.

The North Carolina state line slides into view on my Garmin GPS, and soon the icon that represents my vehicle slides into North Carolina.  We’d set the lunch meeting for noon, and after a ride of 250 miles, I arrive 30 minutes early, which coincidentally is the same time Ray arrives.  By now it’s warmed into the 60’s and my winter suit is far too warm, so I stow it and revert to my normal leather jacket.  We learn that Ray’s wife, who’d planned to join us, won’t be able to leave work.

Ray and I fill up the next hour and a half with easy conversation and then I’m ready to head out.  But to where?  Key West keeps forcing its way to the front of the candidate pool and in that moment I decide:  Key West it will be.  A quick GPS check shows it’s a few miles less than 1,000 miles from where we are to Key West.  The last segment from Key Largo to Key West is often interminably slow and traffic-filled, so I would like to ride about half that distance today, or around 500 miles in addition to the 250 miles I’ve ridden so far.  That would put me around Jacksonville, Florida for the night.

This loosely-formed plan is good enough for Solo Guy as he rides through the pines of South Carolina.  Solo Guy first emerged in 2002 while I was on a winter’s ride to Key West on my Gold Wing.  That ride was fraught with timing and location issues related to snowy weather fronts.  Because of unexpectedly deteriorating weather conditions farther north where I needed to be within two days or risk being snowed out for an extended time, that trip featured a nerve-wracking ride eastward across the Keys with quartering 50-mph winds gusting from the rear, threatening to blow my big bike and its Tulsa after-market windshield off the highway and into the angry green froth of the Gulf of Mexico.  It was the only time I have ever been nervous on my motorcycle.  Since then, Solo Guy has re-emerged from time to time but hasn’t been seen for a while.

Although confused by some with Lonely Guy, Solo Guy is never lonely.  His friends are with him always, they just aren’t in evidence.  He cares little for convention, has little regard for societal norms except that he always tries to make sure that human interactions, should they become necessary or desirable, are filled with politeness and good manners.  And unlike the Cheers sitcom jingle, which asserts that “Sometimes you want to go / Where everybody knows your name”, Solo Guy prefers a locale where nobody knows his name.  When he is hungry, he eats.  If he wants to ride until 3:00 AM for no reason, he does so.  When he is tired, he rests.  When sleepy, he sleeps.  With rare exceptions, he does not make hotel reservations because he believes “If it’s full, there’s always another city.”  If Solo Guy attempted to compete with the Dos Equis “most interesting man in the world” he would fail.  But of course he doesn’t care.  He is Solo Guy.

About 18 miles north of the Georgia state line, a tractor-trailer lies on its side in the median.  For no apparent reason, there commences a traffic backup on the northbound side of the highway that runs for 35 miles, across the state line and into Georgia.  I turn on the CB and listen to northbound truckers argue that a backup couldn’t possibly last for 35 miles.

At a fuel stop, I use the GPS to search for several hotels in Daytona Beach, Florida to check room availability.  There’s no car race this weekend, but for some reason every hotel I call is fully booked.  I decide to make my destination Jacksonville, without reservations.  After all, there’s always another city.

In Jacksonville, I decide to take the downtown route in lieu of one of its beltways, primarily for the opportunity to see that beautiful blue bridge that bisects the cityscape.  It has fascinated me during various trips through Jacksonville.  It’s nearly 8:00 PM, not quite dark, and the blue lights aren’t as dramatic as they will be later tonight, but it’s a lovely sight nevertheless.

Using the GPS, I’ve searched out a hotel south of the city with restaurants within walking distance.  I find the place and after checking in, clean and cover the bike.  I do it every evening.  Solo Guy doesn’t typically interact with others except as necessary, but he does stay in communication with Kitty.  Having traded several text messages throughout the day, I call her and we chat while walking to a nearby Chili’s restaurant for dinner.

For the day, I’ve ridden 732 miles with a 90-minute lunch stop; the GPS statistics feature a moving average of 70.2 m.p.h.  You don’t have to move fast to make a lot of miles; you just have to keep moving!

GPS Statistics:

Overall speed 57.7 mph; Moving speed 70.2 mph

Overall time 12:39; Moving time 10:24

Distance 732

GPS Track, Day 1