As I rode south on I-69 I found that the even bigger full moon was at the horizon, almost as if setting to mark the end of night as the early morning sky was lightening over my left shoulder with the impending arrival of the sun. While appreciating this contrast I realized that the reason I had no sense of worry about the enormous ride looming over me like a large wave readying to crash was that I had such confidence that there was no doubt I couldn�t complete the ride. The only uncertainty would be the bike. I had 76,000 miles of relatively reliable riding with it but at what point would something decide to quit working. I couldn�t worry about that as I had no control over it. I would deal with it if it happened. So I was settled in for a long ride.
My first day would take me from Fort Wayne, IN to Jackson, MS and onto the east side of Atlanta. When I was approaching I-57 in Illinois the southern direction on the sign was to Memphis. Immediately like a line of dominos, albeit a short line, thoughts fell into place. Memphis lead to Elvis, onto my nickname in the Sprint club, Hound Dawg, onto several Elvis songs, and to a Paul Simon song with an Elvis tie in back to Memphis, Graceland What bits of that song I could remember were stuck in my head like a skipping record the next 330 miles. I thought it would have been pretty cool to stop and take a picture of the bike in front of the Graceland gates. But I thought better of that as I had gotten out of Fort Wayne a bit late, had more rain ahead of me yet, and was going to be going further that night than I had originally planned. On big mileage days like this I just don�t take pictures very often and I knew I�d be in Memphis some time again.
At the gas stop in Pickens, MS, I had the first of what would be many d�j� vu�s on this trip. As I pulled into the gas station I knew I had been at that gas station before. I couldn�t remember which trip as a couple had taken me down this road before, but I remembered a very tall state trooper flirting with the gal at the counter and her asking me if I could believe the line he was giving her. In this trip that d�j� vu would happen many times at gas stations, sections of road, hotels, etc.
When I made the turn at Jackson I really had a sense of progress on the day as I made a distinctively sharp change in direction. Jackson is also where the long night began. The dark storm clouds brought on an early sunset. At the gas stop the loud rumbling and lightening was an ominous sign. For some reason I thought the storm was moving east and was hurrying so I could get out in front of it. I was doing well for awhile but soon realized the storms were likely coming from the gulf and the was no outrunning them as I was headed mainly east. I should have known to put the raingear on but it was still fairly warm and the rain wasn�t more than just a sprinkle when it started. I should have known to put the rain gear on. I�d remind myself of this in the days to come. Before I convinced myself to stop I just had to get soaked. I rode through a short down pour but by the time I stopped the gloves were soaked through, I could feel some wetness in my shirt, and my pants were of course soaked from the knees down. I didn�t mind the clothes getting wet as they�ll dry. The gloves are tough to dry. I stopped at the first exit after the rain eased up to get encased in PVC.
My next mistake that night was the uncertainty of whether the gauntlet on the rain gloves goes over the rain jacket sleeve or under. With the first pair of gloves I had it didn�t seem to make a difference as eventually water found it�s way in in heavy rains. With the second pair, well, the second pair were bought on a trip as the first pair were really no longer even water resistant and the lining seemed very hydrophilic. Even spraying them with treatments didn�t work. I hated the fit of the second pair so much that I only wore them once, that trip, and they were now the backup pair. So I put the gauntlets on the outside because that was the easiest and gave the cords a tight pull to keep the water from running down my arm and into the glove, yea, right.
Of course, after the gear was on it quit raining, but I knew there was more ahead. The lightning ahead was very interesting and very active. There were the occasional bolts to the ground, but most of it was the branching bolts across the sky that seemed to be racing each other.
In Alabama the rains were so heavy that the order of the hour was first gear and stay between the taillights of the minivan ahead of me. Each overpass cover I came to was already full of cars and rather than sit in the rain on the side of the road waiting for a moving car to hit me I figured I was safer moving at 20 mph being able to see the car ahead of and behind me. Going this slow and with the rains as heavy as they were it only took a couple of minutes before the water ran down my sleeve and into the gloves. Obviously gauntlets on the inside are the correct position.
Just into Georgia the rains quit. I didn�t want to stop as it was very late and I just wanted to get to Suwannee and get some sleep.
I got to Suwannee at 1:30 am. I surprised the first of seven desk clerks when I asked for a wake up call for less than four hours from when I was checking in. My plan was to get up at five, meet Dave Pullen and his friend at 5:30, and get to Philadelphia right at seven that night for the ballgame. When five am came I knew there was no way I was going to go this early. So I reset the alarm for 6:30. I had told Dave, who lived only miles away, the night before that I�d give him a call when I was ready and to let him know which hotel I was at and that I expected that to be 5:30. I felt bad for waiting til 6:30 to call and telling him I�d be ready at 7:30 but I just had to get some sleep.