1 | North To Newfoundland...

So... it's been a year since I returned from my South America expedition and life has thrown a couple of curves which prevented me from any serious riding since then.

However, the Canadian province and island of Newfoundland has been a goal of mine for many years. It seems to be an intriguing place simply because it's there and I've met folks who've told me tales of the friendliness of the local population.

Not only that, but it's to the far northeast of the North American continent and a perfect counterbalance to having ridden to Alaska. Yes, that's about as deep as my planning gets...

Whereas the previous ride reports from Alaska and South America featured 2nd and 3rd world challenges - grizzly bears, earthquakes, landslides, machete-wielding men at road barricades, river crossings and mud and snow in the Andes, this trip will likely instead be chock full of horrifying first world problems… rants about not being able to stream Pandora consistently, someone farting in the line at McDonald’s, or worse, getting poked by a feather quill from the down pillows at a hotel, not to mention my inability to speak or understand French, much less whatever dialects and pronunciation will be spoken in Newfoundland. My lack of Spanish made everything south of the Texas border to Ushuaia an additional adventure, so I suspect no less of one in French Canada.

On a side note, I am bringing camping gear, which may allow for additional 1st world excitement. However, keep your expectations low and we’ll all get along just fine…

Circumstances kept me from leaving for Newfoundland and Labrador until this late date in the season, so I'm hoping I get lucky with the weather that far north and an early winter doesn't set in. If plausible, I may try to do the remote Trans-Labrador Highway as well, after riding Newfoundland aka "The Rock".

I'll avoid all the reasons why I didn't get to ride much this past year and save them to pad out the story later. The few short rides I’ve been able to do this summer were brutal in the sweltering Texas heat. Yes, I’m a snowflake now.

So, with a complete lack of planning and only a sense of heading northeast, I left Dallas a couple of days ago when rain was threatening and the highs were expected to be in the lower 90’s, a good portent that my now fat(ter) and out of shape arse might not suffer a stroke and have to turn back before reaching Texarkana.

In fact, it was Texarkana where I gassed up after crossing into Arkansas and the reasonable weather temps made the ride pretty nice.

My initial plan was to slab as far to the northeast as quickly as possible since the weather may turn in Newfoundland, but I was contacted just before leaving by my friend Ward from Canada.

Some of you may remember that Ward and I connected in Ecuador and he had the unfortunate experience of riding with me in the snow and mud in the Peruvian Andes. Though we only rode together a few days, it never lacked for drama and challenges.

I really enjoyed my time with him. He was a good sport about me giving him flack for his rain gear, or lack thereof. At any rate, he was riding from Toronto to ride the “Tail of the Dragon” in Deal’s Gap, NC so we decided to meet up.

Sorry Ward, I couldn't resist…

Subsequent “free” getup after the blue suit shredded

North Carolina was a little out of my way and though I felt some pressure to get north before the weather might change, I’d never ridden the famous “Tail of the Dragon”. It’s an 11 mile stretch of mountain road with 318 curves, a motorcycle legend. I knew I would be missing a huge amount of interesting places having to go through the northeastern US so quickly, so I decided to swing through and besides, I wanted to see Ward again.

Two riders parked next to me and informed me they had ridden down from Wisconsin to be on Beale Street for "bike night."

As luck would have it, my timing was accidentally perfect. As darkness began to fall, the entire street became a mini-Sturgis.

But back to my exciting story. My butt was definitely feeling the 450 mile day when I finally rolled across the mighty Mississippi on the bridge into Memphis.

It was early evening when I found Beale Street cordoned off, but was waved in to park behind the barricades by a policeman. A few bikes had gathered on the street and more were trickling in, but I wasn’t sure what was going on.

The dude in the blue shorts was an amazing athlete, doing backflips down the entire street and other wondrous things involving limited human flight

Gaggles of folks video'd the bikes roaring down the street

Lots o' vintage bikes were to be seen

Though I'm not one for such gatherings, the friendliness of the Tennesseans made the event quite pleasant and I ended up staying until 9 or 10. There were a lot of interesting vintage bikes and a lot of good conversations had, pausing for the bikers revving their engines as they rolled down the street. Just as the event began to really pick up, I finally ran out of steam, the full day of riding and then hanging out on the street catching up to me.

I found a reasonably cheap hotel on the eastern edge of Memphis just as my yellow fuel warning light came on. It wasn't long before I was asleep, though my date with the sandman was delayed by a long conversation with the foreign desk clerk about motorcycle travel in general.

The next morning I awoke early and felt a bit groggy, fueling up the beast before hitting the nearby McDonald's for some good coffee and a fair tasting Egg McMuffin. After a bit of staring blankly out the window and listening to various conversations, I clambered back on the big GSA and headed out the eastern side of Memphis towards the country. My friend Ward's plans had been changing so I'd decided to get off the Interstate and take some back roads towards the Deals Gap area, with Chattanooga my likely goal for the day.

The morning air was a relatively cool 81 degrees but the sun had some sting in it as I sat at a stop light on the outskirts of town. To my left, a green Mini Cooper convertible rolled up to the light, highly polished and sparkling in the morning sunlight. Motion in my peripheral vision caused me to look left. The top was down and there was an attractive lady in a sun dress and designer sunglasses smiling brightly at me. Suddenly, everything went into slow motion, I could see her brown hair being lifted and tossed by a gentle breeze while the sunlight highlighted individual strands of her hair, almost copper in color. Her perfect teeth were as white as snow and glinted as she smiled, then slowly mouthed the words “I LOVE YOUr bike!"

My love for her was instant and deep and I knew she was the one. Though technically she had said she loved my bike, at least it was a start..

I knew this was real love, and it was easy to imagine the life we'd have together, just her and me, the Mini and the GSA. Then the light changed and she turned left. Just as quickly as the angelic visitation had come, it was gone, leaving me with a quivering chin and a broken heart. Oh well, easy come, easy go. At least she had good taste.

The sky was blue and cloudless as I ran through rolling hills and fields of green crops in the Tennessee countryside, the type of crops I’m not sure. The temperatures were a bit hot in the sun, probably the low 90’s, but definitely a relief from the heat in Texas.

Here and there along the rural highway, a pickup truck or Suburban would be parked in the front of the yard with a "For Sale" sign on it. Randomly, old recliners would also be alongside driveway entrances, either to be given away or picked up by the trash men. The lack of state troopers on the Interstate the previous day was explained by the number of them parked along the rural highways in speed traps, their black and tan paint jobs being a bit less threatening than the all black SUV's of the Texas Highway Patrol.

The small towns featured old brick buildings on the square, historic and quaint. The life pace was much slower, and much friendlier as I discovered each time I stopped. At another McDonald's about 3 hours in, I spent a good 15 minutes talking with an older woman who came out just to look at the bike. A bit later a couple of Gold Wings stopped in for coffee and conversation. They were heading north to Knoxville for a "Wing Ding" gathering. On hearing I was headed for Deals Gap, they were quick to warn me how crowded it would be, especially considering it was a holiday weekend to boot.

Mild horror ensued as I thought about how bad the crowds would likely be there since my mind had been on other things and hadn't even thought about the holiday. Yikes!

As the day wore on and my butt wore off, the gentle rolling hills of the countryside slowly transformed into higher and higher hills, signaling the landscape that inevitably lay ahead. I rolled into the Eastern Time Zone and Chattanooga about 6:30, finding a Peet's Coffee for a break and to find another cheap hotel.

Tomorrow I'll head through Tellico Plains and towards the Tail of the Dragon. Adios Amigos!