We started the day just after juice and bananas with a ride thru the Blue Ridge Mountains. No traffic. Before the rain. I took pictures, but didn't do a bit of justice to what we saw. When we got to Jonesborough, Tennessee I wanted to break my promise to RD - no tangents. Jonesborough is the home of the National Storytelling Museum and annual festival. Oh my, my, my. I can just imagine my buddies on stage against the backdrop of those magnificent mountains. Oh! And who knew the Smokey Mountains actually smoked? The fog creeps out of the trees in spurts and it look like a bunch of old men with stogies!
And let me tell you bikers that Highways 23 and 119 are nothing but long sweeping curves and hills that ought to be illegal. Even in the rain it was a blast. I almost broke out into John Denver. RD would have unplugged me, so I refrained. The odd thing was that we hardly had any company today. Many times we were the only ones on the road. All that unadulterated splendor is humbling. I saw so many different shades of green trees broken by huge swatches of lilac and white wildflowers cascading down the hills all the way to asphalt. Four lanes of highway, so easy to drive it was sinful.
Didn't see any deer except off in the distance eating - thank you God. Got blessed by a preacher tonight while at a gas stop. Thank you sir for that one. Turns out in Maryland, the wildlife warning signs have deer and bears. BEARS!!!
We were so wet tonight the only thing asked at each hotel desk was whether the room had a blow dryer. Three hotels later we found one. Not because there is a shortage of blow dryers but because there was an excess of high school athletes playing a basketball tournament. This was not the night to sleep under the stars. We ordered Chinese food delivered to the room and spent 2 hours drying our riding suits with the blow dryer.
Tonight is my night for Ben Gay. I continue to learn new and unusual ways to stretch and get off my tailbone. Which was the reason for a few of my waves today. Photo album.
Published by D.M. Davison
Prefers traveling on a BMW motorcycle with a camera in hand. Spits in the wind of adversity. Writes original stories. OK, spitting in the wind is pushing it. Got carried away. View profile
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