well, OK, when things aren't going right or I'm feeling disillusioned and down, my brain cells go on vacation...
went to the Smokies with some friends last Friday Aug 13th (yeah, I shudda known...came the closest to dying on the bike in Chattanooga as rush hour traffic is at a standstill on the interstate...out of sight over a hill :angry2: )
well, anyway, just barely avoided the high side with the back wheel dancing side to side chirping and locking up, but I digress.
trip sucked with incompatible fellow riders and some really bad weather.
for my sanity, I decided to return home on my own and left Pigeon Forge at 7pm planning to arrive home at 8am. I actually mostly like riding at night since I have two full sets of Clearwater Space Shuttle lights, I hardly ever see any cops, and traffic is generally light. Also no worries about rush hour in big cities. During the trip, it only rained in the afternoon, and was dry once it got dark.
so I'm trucking along at my usual 10 over the limit, and begin planning my stops using my Zumo. Decide to ride past Chattanooga, take the Birmingham exit (which is pretty easy to miss with a quick left exit) and then look for a fuel and snack stop. Punch in the Pilot Truck Stop and it's in the middle of nowhere with the exit and service roads unlighted. Also, the only complaint up to this point and all the way home is the large number of 18 wheelers on the road.
Well as I get to Chattanooga, the skys open up and I'm riding in the rain as I exit to the Pilot. The road ebs and turns with a truck in front and another behind me as I pull into the station and to the gas pump. Fuel and go inside and find those big hot dogs on the rollers. Make my purchases and consume two of these, no buns, and a smigeon of chili sauce to dip them in.
Well as I rest my butt in a booth, my innards start rumbling. Head for the head (toilet) and the big handicapped stall on the end is available. Sit down, do my thing including a rest, and pull out my iPhone and bury my face into it checking email, facebook, messaging, etc. A while goes by and it's time to finish up including the paperwork. I put the iPhone on an available shelf on one side and pull paper off the roller unit on the opposite side. Was hearing the rain on the roof and now it's silent. Kinda rush out, mount up, and head out. I'm in the habit of checking my pockets for wallet and phone once I'm cruising. Oh poo poo, no phone. Must still be in the stall. Dang Dang Dang. Start looking for the next exit which is 5 miles ahead. Calculate I'm gonna get back after about 15-20 minutes. Saying my prayers just as I ride into a wall of water. Guess the front is moving South...same as where I'm going. Well, get back, park under the overhang, and head inside. There's a line at the counter, so skip asking if it was turned in, and head for the big stall. It's sitting right where I left it and I let out a breath of relief.
Well, it ain't over. I mount up and fail to punch in my next destination heading home. It still has the truck stop punched in. I head for the service road and am behind a big, slow moving rig. I get to close and can't see the signs in the dark. Yes, I follow him blindly, and head north in the wrong direction back to Chattanooga. It was 5 minutes later when I punched in "Go Home" that I realize it. Went another 5 miles to an exit and head back. I figure I waisted 45 minutes with my circus act.
Geez. I am happy to report the rest of the trip was without incident and I got home fine around 9am. I decided to stop right outside New Orleans to avoid that crawling traffic of rush hour morning traffic. Had a nice breakfast at a Toddle House and read the paper to catch up.