Just Me and Pop

[garyahouse]

Another Rockin' good report from the pen of one of our finest. But you know what it makes me think of, Fish?

I miss him every day. Pop passed on just over 4 1/2 years ago. Just a few months before I bought my FJR. I don't have to regret that we didn't spend enough time together, but you have to ask yourself as you continue down this road alone, how much IS enough?

Just another face to most reading this post. But not to me. He was my buddy. He didn't ride, but probably would have if things were different. Just wasn't to be. But that's OK. We shared a lot of great times.

My point for posting this:

There's a message in this ride report that goes beyond its words and pictures.

Funny how nobody ever says that "life is too short" until the day comes that life teaches us that it indeed... IS.

Son of Harry L. House

WW II veteran and my pal.

 

[ionbeam]

As always a great ride report. Another 'Life is to short report'.

We don't have these in South Louisiana:

That's because they drown if they dig more than a few inches down.

I've got one in my back yard right now that is burrowing under my leach field and damaging it. It may succumb to 'lead poisoning' real soon if it doesn't stop digging.

 

[wheatonFJR]

Great Report RF...as ALWAYS.

(BTW, thanks for standing in front of that ugly ass Honda ST...and for not getting it naked by taking it's bags off.)

 

[Redfish Hunter]

A couple of #'s that I should have included earlier:

Day 1 miles: 440

Day 2 miles: 381

I added a SHAD 50 liter top box to the ST1300. It looks horrible. I mean, it is a quality piece of equipment and looks nice sitting on the table, it just looks terrible on the bike. I like a sport tourer with no top box, it just looks better. However, the top box is very useful. I carried a small ice chest with a few assorted drinks which was very handy. I kept my micro fiber towels and Plexus to clean the face shields in there. When we were going to be leaving the bikes and we were worried, I would set the ice chest on the ground and both helmets would fit inside the box. We could lock it and feel safe that our helmets would not get stolen.

Pop loved it and took full advantage of it. I asked him if he wanted one. "Oh no, it looks like ****. I like it on your bike though."

There was a huge number of Harleys on the Natchez Trace. We saw more Harley touring bikes than all other vehicles combined on the Trace. The slow pace seems to suit them, if I had a Harley I would probably enjoy the Natchez Trace even more.

We spoke to several Harley guys at different points in our trip and they were all extremely nice. The vast majority could not believe we were riding our bikes such a long distance. I think that says more about the riders than it does about the bikes. I have no doubt that the Harleys are more than capable of a coast to coast trip. The riders, not so much.

Pop and I swapped bikes twice on this trip. Once because he wanted me to see how good the new windshield and the new seat and the new bar risers worked all together. The second time because it was very late in the day and he actually admitted that his knees hurt. I figured a change in position might help and it did. He loves my ST but had no desire to keep it either time.

 

[ULEWZ]

I asked him if he wanted one. "Oh no, it looks like ****. I like it on your bike though."

Your dad sounds like a character. It made me laugh out loud.

 

[hppants]

Reading this is special because I know the players and I've ridden with them. R/h's dad is a very interesting dude and rides the snot out of that FJR. Good stuff

More, please

 

[RichDoyle]

From the flip side:

My father died many decades ago, my mother a few years later. They were merely 61 and 62, respectively. I did get to take them each flying in my very own plane years before their deaths, so that was cool.

My son and I have had occasion to take a couple of MC trips together, so that is also cool. Now he's in his forties while I can now see my seventies looming in the not-as-distant-as-I'd-like horizon. He has since sold his MC, but has recently gotten perked up at the notion of getting another one. I am, of course, conflicted about this, yet I look to the possibility of another trip with him.

 

[Redfish Hunter]

I turned 44 in June, Pop turned 69 in August. He started trying to act like an old person and I did not like it. This trip was partially to remind him of the difference between old people and determined people. As my little story unfolds and we jump a few more hurdles, you will see that Pop remembered that he was not quite ready for a nursing home.

At our hotel in Gatlinburg I spoke to an old man. I am just guessing but I would put him in his late 60s. Between puffs of his cigarette he said, "I used to ride but now I am too old. I just got too old to do that. I am not sure I could hold a bike up anymore." He asked me who was riding with me on the other bike. I told him it was for my father. With that streak of meanness that I cannot always control I told him that Dad was just 69 so he probably only had another 10 years or so on a bike. I am pretty sure I pissed him off.

 

[Redfish Hunter]

Day 3 Monday Sept 8th.

7hrs 37 minutes saddle time. 355 miles.

We woke to a splendid morning, 55 degrees. There was a mist over the lake blowing past in the gentle breeze. We were slightly disappointed that the lodge breakfast was only a couple steps above the FCB at a hotel, but we did have scrambled eggs so it was not a total loss.

Morning balcony view:



As we left the lodge I asked Pop if he wanted to take the same gravel road back out. I'd rather not print his reply.

Pop kept flip flopping on whether or not to go visit Mammoth Cave. I finally just decided we were going to do it. I had mapped a route the night before and already had it in the window of the tank bag. This led us to some of the nicest little roads of the trip.

As we got closer to the center of the park I saw a sign that made no sense to me. "Road ends in water". That seems simple but... Why would a road just end in the water? The map did not show that, it made no sense.

Suddenly, it made complete sense. The Green River Ferry.








Soon enough we arrived at:



We checked for the next available tour and we only had about 20 minutes to wait. However, it was a 2 hour tour. Pop never hesitated. He refused to go.

Okay, here is where I got aggravated. I had not wanted to go out of my way to visit a damned cave to begin with but now that I had ridden all that way and modified my other riding plans, he did not want to take the tour? What the hell?

We went into the building and Pop went into the gift shop. He started shopping just like my Mom would do, looking and thinking and pondering and just generally wasting time. Time that we could be riding our bikes. I went to the museum while Pop looked at coffee mugs. When I got back, Pop was still looking at coffee mugs. I went and wandered around some more. Pop was still looking at coffee mugs. I was very close to... Anyway, I told him we needed to make some kind of decision and get moving. He never bought a coffee mug.

I wanted to at least look at the cave opening. We were told it was "Only a couple hundred yards down there but you can't go in." I would say it was closer to 400 yards, downhill the whole way. We could feel the temp dropping as we approached. Pop was starting to bitch about what the climb back up would be like. I was gritting my teeth.

We reached the opening and folks were just walking down the steps and going in as they pleased. I asked Pop if he wanted to at least walk down the steps and look inside. "No, then I'd have to climb back up all those steps. I already have to walk all the way back up that hill you drug me down." I did not trust myself to speak so I went back to gritting my teeth.

We started back up the hill, Pop bitching the whole way. I turned to the right and started up a steeper trail and Pop really started fussing. I informed him that I was hungry, I was sure the restaurant was that way and I was going to it. Pop followed.

Cave entrance:



Me aggravated:



We had a couple of decent sandwiches for lunch and I got control of my irritation. I told Pop that we could get a room at the hotel, take as many tours of the cave for as long as he wanted. Pop was adamant that he was not taking a cave tour for that long. He said he wanted to spend that time riding his bike. I nearly choked on my reply. I was thoroughly pissed now but I was desperately trying to not ruin this trip.

It hit me then, I finally got it. Pop had some hang up about going underground. I had gotten that impression long ago but now I was sure of it. And Pop does not like to admit to any fear, ever. I am not sure but I think he would have gone if it had been a short, in and out kind of tour. Two hours underground was just too long for him.

We got back on the bikes and I tried to salvage what was left of my day. I navigated us back North toward Hwy 62.

 

[Redfish Hunter]

My original "plan" if it could actually be called a plan was to ride all the way across Kentucky, West to East. I wanted to see the entire state in its natural form, not just the tourist parts. Hwy 62 seemed like the perfect road for this and it was. Now, I had to get back to it.

Since I had to choose a route to the unvisited Mammoth Cave and then pick a route back out, I decided to make another POI stop. It was not part of any original plan but it seemed like a decent idea since it was so close.

Abe Lincoln Birthplace Monument



It was worth the time.



That impressive building was built to cover and preserve this unimpressive little cabin:



The best part for me? The fact that 40 years after all that was done, they found that the little cabin was actually NOT the birthplace of Abe. He was born right there close, somewhere, they are pretty sure...

Still pretty interesting though.

So, we wasted the cool morning at Mammoth Cave and rode in the oppressive heat of the afternoon. I was still stewing over this when Pop's voice came through my headset.

"Son, I'm sorry. I made us waste a fine morning. All for nothing."

Well...

The beauty of the Cardo Scala Rider is that you can have these little talks. We worked it out. I had to tell him that the ride in and out was not a waste, we were riding our motorcycles and that was what we came to do. The wasted part was missing an opportunity to see something that spectacular and not doing it. The worst waste of all was the shopping. I cannot stand that part. His concern was finding "Something for your Mother. She expects some kind of souvenir and I never know what to buy her."

Ah, yes. But Redfish has a plan! Redfish always has a plan. I told him to be patient, I would take care of all those little problems soon enough.

And as proof that the ride was not wasted, another shot of the Green River Ferry on our return ride:

 

[Redfish Hunter]

Now, a confession. I hardly ever drink alcohol. Mostly because I just don't have the time. I like to drink and I am a fun, happy drunk but I seldom drink. Marriage, fatherhood and all that fun stuff all but ended my drinking.

But... I am still very interested in certain aspects of alcohol production and consumption. I particularly respect the history of certain brands. Kentucky is home to many famous names and obviously Bourbon County is home to all bourbons. And there was one company in particular that held my interest.

Because, when it is really time to drink... We don't talk Jack and we don't wear crowns. We just give 'em the Bird!



When we finally got there we found out we were 30 minutes too late for the last distillery tour of the day. I was terribly disappointed. I decided to get a room close and come back in the morning. The nice lady at the counter told me that tomorrow's tour would not be as good because, "That man over there won't be here tomorrow and he is the best part of the tour."

I already knew who "That man" was without asking. His name is on every bottle of Wild Turkey and has been for about as long as I have been alive. Mr. Jimmy Russell. The Master Distiller.

So, I walked over and introduced myself. For the next 20 or so minutes I had the honor of speaking to Mr. Russell. He has been working for Wild Turkey for 60 years. 60 Years!!! working for the same company. When I commented that I could not imagine being with the same wife for 60 years much less at the same job, Mr. Russell laughed and said, "60 years with the same company, but I have been married for 61 years!" I found that as impressive as anything else he had done.

I spent almost $200 in that gift shop. Pop? Well, Pop found every souvenir he needed right there at the Wild Turkey Distillery Gift Shop. Oh, and before I forget, I wish this computer could share the smell of that place. The scent of the wood mixed with the scent of the bourbon... I cannot explain it but it was wonderful.

Hwy 62 routed us around the west and north sides of Lexington. You may have heard this already, but there are a few horse farms around Lexington. Just a few, nothing special. I was unable to take pictures due to traffic and time but perhaps I can describe what I saw.

It looked like $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$! Lots of $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$! Hundreds of acres, miles of wooden fences, perfectly cut grass, red brick palaces set high upon the hilltops, wow. I have seen plenty of sights in my time but nothing prepared me for that display of wealth. I still cannot comprehend that kind of money. And yes, I am jealous.

It took me longer to get around Lexington than I expected due to traffic. I talked with Pop and he said he was good to go so we headed for the next Kentucky State Park on our route, Blue Licks Battlefield. We had loads of fun getting there because Hwy 62 got more twisty as we moved East. We made it with 30 minutes to spare before the dining room closed. Supper was great and the room was nice. To top it all off, we sipped on some of the "souvenir" Wild Turkey Pop had bought.

Pop still felt badly about "wasting" part of our day. He knew that we would have easily made the distillery tour. I dismissed all of that. We were on a motorcycle vacation. We had ridden our motorcycles. What else were we supposed to be doing?

We both went to bed happy. A truly great day after all.

 

[escapefjrtist]

Another good RR RfH, and sharing with Pops makes it all the better!

Waiting for the next installment...

--G

 

[Tanker]

Fantastic RR as usual Fish!

 

[Fred W]

In!

I want to see how this one comes out.

 

[Redfish Hunter]

Day 4 Tues Sept 9th

We had an excellent breakfast at the lodge dining room to go with our mediocre coffee. The morning was beautiful, upper 60s for the temp, a light fog lingering...

I only have 2 issues with Blue Licks Battlefield State Park.
1. It is not set in a spectacularly beautiful location.
2. There is not a good explanation for the history of this place at the lodge.

If we had been willing to walk the trails I am sure both of those issues would be null and void.

Without turning this into a history lesson, the Battle of Blue Licks was fought 10 months after Cornwallis had already surrendered. Due to some truly dumb leadership a group of Kentuckians allowed themselves to be lured into an ambush and were destroyed. The Indians who fought for the British mutilated the bodies and that led to an eventual retaliation that all but ran them from that area.

Daniel Boone fought in that battle and his son was killed there. Ole Dan'l sure covered a lot of ground in his day. He seems to have been everywhere and gotten a lot of credit for a lot of wonderful things. I bet the truth was a bit different. I am guessing that Dan'l Boone was not a very good husband or father. In an age where men had to work to support the farm and family Dan'l was never home. I bet his neighbors cursed him for being a lazy *******.

Or, as Pop suggested, he may have had a nagging, bitching wife...

Speaking of Lazy... Pop tells me quite often, "The lazy man always works harder." Since I was too lazy to wire in the connector for my Aerostich compact air compressor, I had to partially disassemble Ole Blue to get to my battery. We had to add air to both rear tires.




At any rate, we headed for Johnson Creek Covered Bridge. This is very close to the state park but like a lot of things in Kentucky, there could be better signs so the traveler could actually find the thing. I decided that we must have missed it and it was not that important anyway. Then, there it was.







We found ourselves completely delighted with it. I never understood the fascination for covered bridges and I still don't but we studied the wood work and metal work and the structure and the craftsmanship and the effort involved without electric power tools and... We giggled like children when we rode through it.

The one sour note was the graffiti. Pop and I hope there is a special place in Hell for the graffiti "artists" who just had to deface this wonderful artifact.

We twisted around avoiding a few deer along the way and rejoined Hwy 62. Now, as much time as I spend with Google Maps and Bing Maps and MapQuest and paper maps and the GPS, mistakes still happen. In this case, the road signs/#'s don't match the computer maps. So, when I crossed the Ohio River!!! into Ohio, I was on the wrong bridge. I thought I was just a bit further North. This led to me wasting a few minutes riding South on River Road (Hwy 52) in Ohio. When I realized my mistake, we took a slightly different route into the hills and had one of the best and most enjoyable rides of our trip. The little bit of Ohio that we saw was beautiful, the road kept us happy and excited, we loved it. Pop scraped his pegs twice and we laughed the entire time.

We finished our Ohio loop and re-crossed the Ohio River into Kentucky. We took Hwy 68 back toward Paris KY. As we approached lunch time we were also close to Blue Licks Battlefield State Park. We stopped back by there for an excellent lunch and jumped back on Hwy 68 headed West by South West.

Just outside Paris we turned onto Hwy 460 and pointed our way SouthEast. This road would have been wonderful but was being "improved" and straightened so we alternated between twisty curvy wonderfulness and new construction. We enjoyed it anyway. As evening approached I suggested another KY State Park and Pop approved. We liked them much better than chain hotels in the towns and they were cheaper with better food.

We pulled into Jenny Wiley State Park and parked next to a BMW R1150RT and a MotoGuzzi California. Both had very fresh road rash.

We got a nice but somewhat outdated room with a nice balcony view. This park not only had a restaurant, it also had a bar! I wanted to get a couple bottles of beer to drink on our balcony but they could not allow it. So, Pop and I sat in the bar and sipped our beers. I flirted with the beer maid.

We were joined by the guy on the BMW and found he was from a town about an hour from us back in Louisiana. The bikes both belonged to a friend of his from Florida. He was caught unawares by the presence of the bar and did not have his wallet so I bought him a beer and flirted with the beer maid. He turned out to be a really nice guy and he had lots of questions about my Honda ST1300. Both he and his buddy were very interested in the Honda and were thinking of buying one.

I told him the blue one parked outside just might be for sale.

When we started to leave for our dinner, the beer maid asked if I wanted one more. I replied that if I drank another I would be trying to hold her hand, get her to dance, or just sit on my lap. She offered to buy that beer.

I shook her hand and thanked her. But I went and ate my supper with Pop smirking at me.

Overall, Jenny Wiley State Park was a win. I still need to do some research and find out who Jenny Wiley was.

 

[wheatonFJR]

Dangit...I ran outta "likes"...or I'd put one on every dang post of this report.

Lotta stuff goin on in these reports, besides the ridin. Thanks for the effort and eloquence...

 

[LKLD]

I need another bucket of popcorn....hang on a sec.

Ok, got it! Continue please.

 

[xcsp]

Keep it coming RF, enjoying the RR!

 

[dcarver]

Freakin' Fantastic Ride Report! FFRR from RFH! unk:

 

[Chiefblueman]

I turned 44 in June, Pop turned 69 in August. He started trying to act like an old person and I did not like it. This trip was partially to remind him of the difference between old people and determined people. As my little story unfolds and we jump a few more hurdles, you will see that Pop remembered that he was not quite ready for a nursing home.
At our hotel in Gatlinburg I spoke to an old man. I am just guessing but I would put him in his late 60s. Between puffs of his cigarette he said, "I used to ride but now I am too old. I just got too old to do that. I am not sure I could hold a bike up anymore." He asked me who was riding with me on the other bike. I told him it was for my father. With that streak of meanness that I cannot always control I told him that Dad was just 69 so he probably only had another 10 years or so on a bike. I am pretty sure I pissed him off.

Your Pop's a lucky guy to have you for an ally in staving off old age. At 60, I sometimes find myself a little too willing to succumb to the chair and the tube. While the "old" me says time may have slowed me down, the determined me says not by very damn much.

Thanks for the insightful post and great RR.