The long road winds up...

My first day on the road got me all the way from Tallahassee, Florida, to Tullahoma, Tennessee in about 12 hours. I stuck to the highways that took me through Havanna, Columbus, Harpersville, Pell City, Ashville, Huntsville, Fayetteville, and Lynchburgh, and took a few breaks along the way to take pictures and stretch. There were a few bland spots in there, but most of the ride was gorgeous, particularly northern Alabama around Pell City. Middle Tennessee never fails to impress me, too, with it's gentle hills and abrupt geology. Most of the day was overcast and cool, and I was lucky enough to miss any rain and almost all rush-hour traffic in every city I happened to go through (barring Huntsville. Boo, Huntsville).



It was not a day without some worry, however. About two hours outside of Tallahassee I noticed a small amount of oil dribbling onto my left boot. Pulling over at the top of a hill overlooking Lake Tallapoosa, I checked under the bike and found that a small amount of oil was seeping out from the lower portion of the engine. I made sure that the oil level was good enough to keep going, cleaned what oil there was off the engine and ate a little trail mix before getting back on the road. I stopped every so often to check the oil level for the rest of the trip. By the time I'd gotten to Tennessee I'd gone through about half a quart - not too much really, but worrisome nonetheless. This morning I took my bike on down to the local motorcycle store - a big, shiny mega-structure in Murfreesborogh, Tennessee, called Sloan's - and was told by the guys in the service department that they'd be able to get to it in about two and a half weeks. I expressed my dismay with that schedule and told them that I was on a trip across the country and they told me there was nothing they could do about it. They did tell me, however, that there was a place just up the road, a small independent store owned by a guy called Tom Sloan, that might be able to do something for me. I thanked the guy who told me this and went up the road to find the place. I found the shop quickly enough (despite the lack of a sign out front. It's called First Kick, by the way, but you'll just have to look for a bunch of bikes out front of a white shack that sits just north of Murfreesborough on highway 41 if you're in the area) and went inside to plead my case to the mechanic I found there. Luckily, he sympathized with my situation and told me that they would put my bike at he head of the line and call me later to let me know what was going on with it.



Three hours later the shop called me and told me that they'd been unable to order the gasket that had burst so they manufactured it in-house. They charged me two hours labor and told me I could pick it up whenever I wanted. I don't know about you, but it's stuff like that that keeps me going back to smaller, local shops over dealers and huge mega-stores every time. My mechanic in Tallahassee (Big shout-out to Jower's Automotive) was that kind of small local shop that would go out of their way for you, and it inspired such loyalty in me that I never went anyplace else. let me just write this again - this place manufactured the part in-house and didn't even charge me for it! Amazing!



Anyway, while waiting for the bike I went up to Nashville and fell head-over-heals in love with an archtop acoustic guitar made by Godin. I've had issues with finding the perfect guitar for me while on the road before (more on that later). In fact, I even joked with my step-mom earlier in the day that I was going to find The One while I was travelling, but I didn't expect it to happen so early in the trip or while I actually still have enough money to afford the thing. I'm a little stuck here - I want to buy it and have it shipped. Hmmm...

This morning when I went back to pick up my bike I dropped off a six-pack of Dogfish Head 60 minute IPA (my favorite beer). I've found that giving your mechanic some beer can go a long way to showing him your appreciation, and these guys certainly seemed to enjoy what I gave them. I said to them, "Sorry, I don't know if you guys like this beer, but it's my favorite so I thought I'd get you some." One of them said back, "We like whatever beer you brought," to which another replied, "As long as it's cold, we like it." I thanked them again, paid my ticket and rode off on my newly healthy bike.

I think I'll head off to Alma, Arkansas to visit my old friend Kevin on Thursday morning. I haven't seen the guy in about 14 years, so it should be an interesting visit. I may stop over to see a lake that sits between here and there that my step-mom told me about, so my next entry may be a couple of days away. The weather's been holding out well and I don't expect to encounter anything too daunting until I get into Oklahoma, but I think I've prepared well in any case. Let's hope I'm right.