I leave Plymouth at 5am. The bike is running good. I just had the carburetors retuned. For those of you who aren't familiar with the '97 Valkyrie, it has a 1500cc, six-cylinder engine with six carburetors. Nowadays, Honda has updated this to an 1800cc engine with fuel injection. I imagine that the new setup would be a lot less troublesome. It seems like I need to have this bike retuned every couple of years to keep it happy. As I ride through southern Minnesota towards Iowa, I think about whether I should go ahead and get a set of gauges to tune the bike myself. I've read through the procedure in the shop manual and it doesn't sound bad. It's just that I never seem to have enough time. I'd much rather spend my time riding than maintaining. Well, enough of that. It's time to ride.

I'm planning on joining the Mexico Run with the Lost Chapter of the High Rollers on Saturday, the 25th, so I don't have time to lollygag on the way down to Houston. This will be a straight run down I35/I45 to Houston. Not the most scenic ride, but one I've done many times over the years. My trips usually are not very planned out. The general outline for this trip is to spend two days riding from Plymouth to Houston, two days on the Mexico Run, visit in Houston for three days, catch a meeting with the Northwest Chapter and spend five days riding back to Minnesota. I've already found out that the Northwest Chapter doesn't meet every Wednesday any more, but they are going to get together anyway for this occasion. On Thursday, I'm thinking of taking the Natchez trace to Tennessee, going east and catching the Blue Ridge Parkway. A lot depends on the weather. If the Appalachians are socked in with bad weather, I could go west through New Mexico and Colorado and check out the Rockies. I have until July 5th before I go back to work. I want to spend as much time as possible between now and then riding.

The riding season in Minnesota is much shorter than the one in Texas. There are a lot of bikes though and the riders seem determined to make up for lost time when the weather is good. It seemed like spring came late this year, so I have not had a lot of riding time before this trip.

The road is good. The bike is running good. I feel good. The air feels good. The same trip can be made by plane, by car or by bike. On a bike, you're immersed in the air. You move through it and it's all around you. The early summer air is crisp and full of the smells of new life. I breathe deep and feel tensions flowing out. I've really missed getting out and spending time on the road. There's nothing like a smooth interstate highway on a good day for just unwinding and letting the hours and miles roll by.

As I approach the southern border of Iowa, I make a gas stop and decide it's getting too hot to continue wearing my leather jacket. It felt good when I started this morning, but it's getting a bit hot even while going down the road. It's time to put the first layer of sunscreen on my arms. I haven't had a lot of exposure to the sun and don't want to start the trip with a bad sunburn. On this trip I’m using SPF50 sunscreen, so as long as I keep putting it on, I should be fine.

When I get to Kansas City, I decide to ride through town on I35 rather than take the bypass. It's 1pm and the traffic shouldn't be too bad. Bad decision. The I35 bridge across the Missouri River is closed and I end up on a detour. I wanted to slow down a little and see the city, but now I'm slowing down a bit more than I wanted and spending more time in the city than I wanted. As I leave Kansas City, I realize that I never did bother to do a trip plan to check for construction or new roads. It's a little late now.

So far, I've been stopping every 100 miles or so for gas. I could push it further, I don’t hit reserve until 130 miles, but my old joints really appreciate being moved more often than every two hours. When I get on the Kansas Turnpike, I match speed with some fast traffic. The opportunities for gas are further apart and I have a bit of a scare when I hit reserve at 85 miles. It's 30 miles to the next stop. I hit reserve at around 4.2 gallons and have another 1.3 gallons at that point. As I calculate my mileage in my head and the resulting range, I drop my speed down a bit. When I pull into the stop, I have 0.5 gallons left. My bike doesn't get stellar mileage, but going fast into a strong headwind really kills the mileage. I don’t mind paying more for extra gas I’m using. I’m more concerned with the loss of range. After filling up, I get back on the road and wonder if the tune up before the trip may be the culprit for my particularly bad mileage on that last tank. I rehearse what I will say to the mechanic when I get home. I ride into Oklahoma and at the next stop; the mechanic is off the hook. It wasn't his fault. It helps when I don't ride like a bat out of hell.

I roll into Oklahoma City at 7pm and check into a motel. It's been a good day. I've covered about 800 miles and I feel good.

Friday, June 24 - Oklahoma City, OK to Houston, TX

I sleep late (for me), eat breakfast and leave Oklahoma City at 6am. I don't want to hit Dallas during rush hour, so I'm leaving late to arrive in Dallas at 9:30am. One problem with interstates is they do tend to connect big cities and if I wanted to sit in bad traffic, I could have saved a lot of time and effort and just hit one of the commuter parking lots back home.

It’s going to be another perfect day. I roll through the Ozarks in Oklahoma and have a couple of moments when my jacket would have felt good. As I enter Texas, I feel like I’m being welcomed home. I’ve more of my years in Texas than anywhere else. I’m still quite a ways from Houston, but somehow all of Texas feels like home. I’ve timed my arrival into Dallas pretty well and I only slow down a couple of times before I’m on I45 and on the final leg into Houston.

By noon, it’s starting to feel hot. I stop for gas and lunch, but I’m much more interested in getting out of the heat and drinking water than eating. I’m really not acclimated to the heat anymore. I’ve spent enough time up north that I can handle 40 degrees a lot better than 100 degrees. Still, I feel good when I’m back on the road.

If I felt welcomed when I got into Texas, Houston delivers a big warm hug when I arrive. It’s in the form of an hour of stop and go traffic in mid afternoon. I do get a chance to look around though. My friends Wayne and Glenda Eatmon have offered to put me up while I’m in Houston. I stop at Glenda’s office, then it’s on to Ghostriders where Wayne works. The fellow working up front doesn’t recognize me, so I send him back to get Wayne with the message that I was told he does good work on Hondas. (Wayne can’t really be called a fan of Honda motorcycles.) I can’t repeat what Wayne said when he got the message. After a short visit, I’m off to their home to wake up their son who, like my son, is nocturnal.

Since Wayne gave me a key, I just let myself in, take a shower and relax. I’ve covered about 450 miles today and feel pretty good. The alarm to get up and meet the Mexico Run will come early, so I decide to be sensible for once and crash early.

Saturday, June 25 – Houston, TX to Progresso, Mexico (and back)

I meet Goon from the Lost Chapter of the High Rollers at 7am. It turns out that between the heat and concerns about how safe it is to go to Mexico, the pack has dwindled down to just the two of us. Goon is determined to go to Mexico and I just spent two days on the interstate to get here in time, so we decide to go for it. Besides, it’s another perfect day and we’d rather be riding than anything else.

Goon has the route well planned and knows where to stop. We fall into a relaxed rhythm of riding and watching the countryside. In the afternoon, we run into some welcome sun showers and it’s cooler than it was yesterday when I rode from Dallas to Houston. I’m always fascinated by the change in the vegetation as I ride. One species fades to another as the miles pass. By the time we reach Mexico, cactus and palm trees have made a solid appearance.

This run was to commemorate a ride that a group of High Rollers made 30 years ago. While they rode into the interior and spent a lot more time in Mexico, this ride is just a quick visit.

Despite 9/11, crossing into Mexico is as relaxed as I remember from the pre 9/11 days. Pay to cross the bridge and you’re in. We ride a couple of blocks into the tourist area and park the bikes. We pay a fellow to watch the bikes and wander up and down the street with the rest of the tourists.

It’s interesting to see what’s for sale. There are a lot of the expected trinkets, pharmaceuticals and liquor. You can also get dental work and surgeries performed. I don’t suppose they are in my insurance company’s list of approved providers. Small boys are constantly offering to shine my shoes. One advantage of riding motorcycles is that you really can’t handle buying souvenirs.

The top frame of the cheap sunglasses I’m wearing broke on the way down from Houston. It’s just a matter of time before one of the lenses pops out, so I decide to check out the sunglasses for sale. Fortunately, there is someone selling Oakley sunglasses from one of the stands that line the street. I pick one out and ask how much. The fellow says five dollars, and I get out my wallet to pay him. Goon, being more experienced, says I should dicker on the price, so I say six dollars. The fellow smiles and says yes. I go ahead and pay five dollars. I’m really not sure if they are fake Oakley sunglasses or black market or what. In any case, they are good replacement cheap sunglasses.

Soon, it’s time to return to the United States. We ride back to the border and pull up to the crossing. The fee to cross the bridge still has to be paid. I’m curious what the US officials will put us through. I’ve brought pretty much every document I could think of with me. I don’t have a passport, so I brought the works. I have my shot records, my elementary school report cards, a utility bill with my home address, etc. (I’m really not sure why I get this way at border crossings. I do manage to suppress these “humorous” urges though. If figure it’s probably not a good idea to give these guys a rough time.) I wave Goon forward to cross first. There is a station with what look like cameras and sensors aimed at the vehicle. I always like to look into the camera and smile. (Ok, sometimes I let something through.) While I look at the devices around me, I can see Goon at the next station talking to the Customs officer. He has his driver’s license out and is talking to the officer. I imagine that the officer has asked Goon why he was in Mexico and Goon is telling him at great length about the group of High Rollers who rode here 30 years ago and that this is a ride to commemorate that. Actually, I don’t know what they talked about, but it was clear that the officer did not find anything Goon said alarming. The officer waves Goon through and I pull up. I take out my driver’s license and the officer glances at me and asks “Are you with him?” When I say yes, he waves me through and says, “Go ahead”.

Goon has a restaurant picked out for dinner. It’s a little early, so we stop at a hotel on the way to check in. They have some event at the hotel and it’s booked up. We go eat and decide to ride north and look for a place at the next stop. It’s still early and we both feel like riding.

At the next stop, we decide that it’s still early and we both feel like riding. In fact, why don’t we ride all the way back? I know that some of Goon’s brothers didn’t want him to ride to Mexico on his own and they were glad to hear that I was going with him. Perhaps they thought I would provide a voice of reason to keep him from doing anything crazy like riding all day and then into the night to get back in one day. Well, all I can say is that if that’s the case, they picked the wrong guy for the job! We ride on and I roll back into Wayne and Glenda’s garage at 10:30.

Thursday, June 30 – Houston, TX to Natchez, MS

Last night, High Rollers and friends met me at the Time Out Sports Bar. It’s always good to meet my friends. There are a lot that I didn’t manage to catch up with during this visit. I’ll have to do better next time.

Today it’s time to leave Houston and get back on the road. I check with the Weather Channel and it looks good in the Appalachians. Everything is a go to ride the Blue Ridge Parkway this trip! I hit interstate 10 and head east.

In east Texas, the highway department is working on the road. A sign announces that the left lane is closed. There’s the usual shuffle as most drivers move into the right lane, stop and wait for those who won’t wait their turn. An 18 wheeler blocks the closed lane and eventually we get to the closed section. It’s only about a hundred feet long and we’re back to two lanes. Glad that’s over!

But it’s not. In two miles, they do it again. The pattern repeats. I guess they saved a few cones by not just closing a lane and keeping it closed. It sure made for a miserable ride though.

When I get to Baton Rouse, it’s 102 degrees and I can really feel the heat. I take the “Scenic Highway” exit to head up to Natchez, MS. After the turn, I realize that it’s the name of the road. It’s really not all that scenic until you get out of Baton Rouge. I spend the night in Natchez. I’m in a perfect position to ride north on the Natchez Trace tomorrow.

Friday, July 1 – Natchez, MS to Fayetteville, TN

This is the third time I’ve ridden the Trace. If you like the idea of cruising all day on a good road with no stop signs, almost no other traffic and historic markers every few miles, this is the place. Since ancient times, the Native Americans used this trail. Later, the “Kaintuck” boatmen used it to return overland to Nashville after floating their cargos to the markets in Natchez and New Orleans. Now it’s my turn. On the relaxed ride through the trees on the parkway, my bike is getting more than 40 miles to the gallon. I stop at 160 miles and I still haven’t hit reserve. I really need to start taking it easy on the highways!

A couple of years ago, just as I entered Iowa on the way back from Texas, my bike spooked a turkey. The turkey decided that the best way to escape was to fly right in front of me across the highway. I saw him out of the corner of my eye and had just enough time to duck, but he still bounced off my helmet. I pulled off the road, brushed feathers off my visor and the scuff marks off the helmet. I had always heard that they were pretty smart birds. Now I’m not sure.

On the Natchez Trace, I see a cousin to the turkey in Iowa. This time, two cars approach each other in front of me. The turkey panics when he sees two cars at once and like his cousin, decides that the best escape is to fly across the road between them. Somehow, he made it. I’m still in Mississippi, but not too far from Tennessee. Do you think it’s ok to harvest road kill in Mississippi like it is in Tennessee? I see several dead turkeys on the road during the ride up the Trace.

When I get into Tennessee, I head east and stop in Fayetteville to visit my sister and her family. I lose a few hours of riding time, but it doesn’t seem right to be so close and not stop to say hi.

Saturday, July 2 – Fayetteville, TN to Asheville, NC

I continue east and it starts to rain. The traffic is a little heavy. This is the 4th of July weekend and this area has a lot of popular tourist traps. When I pass the Dollywood exit, the eastbound traffic thins out a lot. On the westbound side, an SUV has spun out in the rain and while bouncing against the concrete divider, managed to break all of its windows. I’m glad to take the exit for the Blue Ridge Parkway and get away from the traffic.

The rain stops and I really start to enjoy the ride. I stop at every other overlook to look at the mountains. It’s pretty murky. I guess they’re called smokey mountains for a good reason.

After about an hour, I ride into a thunderstorm. I pull into a picnic area and talk to some people coming from the north. There are more storms ahead and it’s getting late. I leave the parkway and I’m almost back to Asheville before I find a hotel room for the night.

Sunday, July 3 – Ashville, NC to Mt Vernon, IL

I wake up to more rain. So much for the prediction from the Weather Channel. I have two days to get back home. Time to head west.

As I pass through Nashville, it stops raining and I do the math. I really don’t have enough time to ride back down to Fayetteville to visit my sister again. Too bad.

Like interstate 10 west from Houston through Texas, I’ve been on this stretch of interstates 40 and 24 enough times to recite the exits. When I get into Illinois, I decide to stop at Metropolis. I’ve always wanted to visit Superman’s home town. I’ve seen it in the movies and it seemed a lot larger. I guess it’s the special effects. Somehow, the real thing looks more like Smallville.

Monday, July 4 – Mt Vernon, IL to Plymouth, MN

I’m riding into a cold front. Boy does that feel good! The winters up here aren’t the best for riding, but the summers are hard to beat. I’m riding in sunshine, but it’s still cool enough to wear a jacket. I roll into my garage at 3pm.

Saturday, July 9 – Just a quick ride around town

I’ve finished four days back at work. If my boss is reading this, it was a very productive week since I was recharged by my vacation. Well, to tell the truth, I did spend a few minutes thinking about my next trip. The hour that I spent on the Blue Ridge Parkway was enough to convince me that I’ve got to keep trying until the weather cooperates. There’re a “couple” of other nice roads in that area too. Maybe not this weekend though.

It’s hard not to head out of state. My Oakley sunglasses from Mexico break at a gas stop. Maybe I should go get another pair…