There's Something About That First Day...

This is just a quick note that I'm in for the night, but I'm actually too tired to do justice to today's ride, so details will follow after a few hours' sleep. Suffice it to say, I made it well past Birmingham.

now for the goods...(updated 5/30)

Thursday night I collected all of my stuff for the trip, loaded the dog up in the truck and hauled him over to mom's house where he is spending the duration of the trip (for those of you who have asked about him). Once everything was offloaded, I headed back to my house to drop the truck off and bring the bike back to mom's, where I spent the night. She's been visiting family in Iowa, so I had the house to myself, and Friday morning, I headed in to work for the last half day.

I'd had two big bears of projects that had to be done before I left, and 99% of those were finished on Thursday, so most of my time Friday was sorting out what was left that would need attention in my absence. It was kind of fun recording my voicemail message to say 'don't leave a message.' Once work was done, a friend treated me to lunch, which was a fitting beginning to a nice vacation.

I headed back to mom's to load up the bike and bid my furry buddy adieu, and hit the road right at 2:15. I decided to go through Atlanta and Birmingham, up to Memphis and over to Oklahoma City for my first big leg of the trip, which would take Friday and Saturday. My options were either to go through Atlanta, or to take I-40 through the recently fixed rockslide area, that still only had one lane open. I decided on Atlanta, for variety's sake, I guess, because my timing put me going through there right around, oh, 4:45 p.m. on the Friday of Memorial Day weekend. Really smart. I'd put Atlanta probably at the 2^nd worst I've ridden the bike through, barely edging out Boston rush hour. The top one in my books still remains Chicago. Seems like I always hit the big cities around the evening rush hour.

At any rate, I tried the HOV lane for a while, since motorcycles are allowed, but I didn't like being hemmed in to one lane with only limited access to the other lanes, so I got out of it closer in to downtown Atlanta (no bypass for me, thank you very much). I knew I needed to go to Birmingham from Atlanta, but wasn't sure the exact road I would need, because I hadn't printed or written any directions out for this first leg (and I loathe GPS devices, in case you were wondering). I think my pioneering spirit decided to just aim west and wing it for a while . The road signs were terribly obliging and told me I-20 was what I needed to get to Birmingham, and I-20 is what I took.

Once I got off I-85, the traffic finally started to breathe again, and I was able to notice what the skies looked like, and ominous is the word I'd use to describe them. When I was riding through Atlanta, it was 91 degrees, but as I continued to ride along I-20, the temperatures dropped enough for me to be glad I was wearing jeans under my mesh riding pants. A few more miles down the road, and there was evidence of some pretty strong rains having just passed through that area, with standing water in the medians and in the interstate. I rode on to the Oxford, AL, exit, near Anniston, before I stopped for fuel and food. Inside the restaurant, I heard the tail end of a weather advisory for strong thunderstorm warnings to the west and to the north. Once I finished my sandwich from Arby's, I took a few minutes to put rain covers on my luggage and myself. I felt a little silly in my moon suit (big booties for my riding boots included), but once the rain started coming down about 30 miles west of Anniston, I was glad to look silly, so long as I was dry. My original semi-goal had been to make it to Birmingham before calling it a night, but I felt really good at that point, and figured since I was all suited up for it, I'd continue riding in the rain until I got tired of it.

Once again, I knew I had to make some turns around Birmingham to start the meander to Memphis, and I knew there were some familiar names in the route between B'ham and Memphis when I'd looked at a map earlier, but couldn't remember exactly what they were. I saw a sign for I-65 heading to Huntsville, so I hopped on that, reasoning that I was heading north, so I'd eventually run into I-40, right? I stopped in Dodge City, 40 or so miles north of Birmingham, because my smoke shield was getting too dark for the approaching dusk and occasional drizzly weather, as well as to top off my tank. While at the pump, an old cooter from inside the station came over to shoot the breeze and ask where I was heading. When I told him Memphis, he asked which way I was going and I told him I'd have to look at a map to decide. Inside the store, I grabbed an Alabama map and consulted with him about my options. He advised that I go a few exits north on I-65 to Highway 157, a 4 lane that would cut cross country and get me to Highway 72, which would eventually get to Memphis. I thanked him for his advice, memorized the exit and highway names and headed out of there just after 8 p.m.

Mr. Cooter Man's estimate for me to get to Memphis was 4 hours, and he wasn't far off. I stopped once more for fuel between Dodge City and Memphis, in Corinth, MS, and when I swiped my MasterCard at the fuel pump, the transaction was denied. Both times that I tried it. I used an alternate card, and when I called the MasterCard customer service, I was connected to the fraud alert division. They had noticed the fuel transactions in different states and frozen the card as a result. I explained what the situation was and told her to expect similar stuff for the next two weeks, from Colorado to New Mexico and Texas. All the while, I'm having to use the speaker function on my phone because the handset isn't working, and the battery is also about to die. She straightens everything out (before the cell phone dies, thankfully) and I headed back out into the rain, shooting for the last 100 miles to Memphis.

There's not a whole lot of traffic when you go through Memphis at midnight, and I decided I wanted to get on the other side of it before stopping for the night. I managed to get about a 9^th wind at this point, and the rain finally let up. I hopped onto 240 and then to 40 west into Arkansas, keeping company with a bunch of truckers and only a few cars. I was aiming for a Super 8, and kept drawing on my 'feeling fine' reserves until I was almost an hour outside of Memphis, when I decided I was really, really ready to be done for the night.

There was a big billboard for a Super 8 at $39.99 in Wheatley, which I opted for. I was a little leery of that price, but the motel turned out to be a more recently remodeled one, so that was good. What wasn't so good was the fact that they upped the rate for the holiday weekend. When he told me my total would be $74 for the night (what was left of it), I asked about the billboard. He gave me the song and dance about the holiday, so I asked what the best rate was that I could get, especially considering the fact it was 1:20 a.m. He gave me a $59.00 rate, which was better, except it had to be upstairs. They didn't have anything as exotic as an elevator, so at 1:30 in the morning, I'm lugging my saddlebags up the stairs. It took a little while to wind down and sort things out, and it was nearly 2:30 CST when I turned out the light. It was the end of day one, and I'd had a decent day's ride accomplished, with 640 miles under my belt, so I slept well. Very well.