We decide that Cracker Barrel is for Dinner, but you'd think the folks in this town hadn't eaten for a week. The place was packed! A 45 minute wait. Since everyone accept me has hard bags, I decided it would be smart to run on up to the hotel and check in. That way I could unload Zed and toss my unlock-able cargo into the room, and it looked like the hotel was just across the highway. So we (Shawn and I) left the two elders there at the Cracker Barrel to get us on the list. We also knew they needed to rest their weary bones and they could sit back and play checkers or what ever it is old men do at these places while they wait for their meals. I'm not that old yet so I don't really know.
Shawn and I run across the highway, and there is a really nice looking Comfort Inn. There are two cars in the parking lot and it is 7:45pm on a Friday night. Of course we had reservations. I'm actually quite tickled, from what I read on-line the place was barely a two-star hotel. I was imagining a Hot-Water-Optional type of hotel. We park, walk in and I greet the man behind the desk and give him my name. He looks at me with a blank stare. I have no reservation for you. I remind you the parking lot is all but empty. "Perhaps you are downtown" he says, like that's a bad thing. He picks up the phone and calls the other Comfort in, and sure enough we are. So we hop on our bikes and head the two miles into downtown Sweetwater.
Well this Comfort Inn looks no different. Still we are excited, we check in, drop off our stuff. $44.50 for double occupancy for Friday and Saturday stay is NOT bad! Room even had a fridge and microwave, and we get a free breakfast. It's like a broken drum, you can't beat it!
Ok, back to Cracker Barrel…
We get back and find the two fathers hanging out on the porch like old people do. Shortly our name is called and we are seated. We attempt to order and wouldn't you know it they are out of Meatloaf. Or well we'd have to wait 20 minutes... I go with the special, and someone tries to order the open face roast beef but they are out of that too. What in the world? It all works out and we get a decent meal.
My father was still hungry. Apparently the pork chop meal only came with one pork chop and it was kind of small. Pat made a wise crack about them probably running out so I checked with the waitress. She said she'd bring him another one if he wanted. We failed to ask how long that would take… It seemed like an eternity.
While we waited I looked over the desert menu and learned that Chocolate is technically a vegetable since it comes from a bean, so I had the Chocolate 'vegetable' cobbler for desert. (Basically it was a Sundae on a brownie).
Life was good. We found a grocery store, grabbed some beer, headed back to the hotel for cigars, beer and route planning.
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Day Two: Saturday the 9th
The Day...
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Our Route in the Gap Area
According to Streets and Trips this route (that we took, not totally what we planned) was 271 miles. Not bad for 2 sport-tourers and a barge on two wheels through the twisties all day. This included a lengthy stay at the Deals Gap resort area and a not so friendly chat with NC officer friendly.
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Getting up at the crack of dawn it was supposed to be kickstands up at just after 0'dark 30 providing there wasn't much fog. At 7:30 we were all up and moving around, in fact the other guys were already upstairs partaking in the free breakfast. Having made fun of Alan and I for eating so much last night, it dawned on me that they had just held back trying to make us look bad. That in fact they were probably Starving so they rushed up there ahead of us to eat as much as they could before we got there so they could keep up their 'we eat light' appearances. But now I've have it figured out. Now I know why there was only (1) Chocolate donut left when I got there.But I digress.
Yes I had over eaten the night before. All I needed for breakfast was a banana to help bind me up. To make sure that I didn't have to find an awkward place to have to drop the kids of at the pool while wearing my one piece leathers. That would not be fun nor convenient.
For you folks in Tennessee, Biscuits and Gravy DOES imply that there is sausage in the gravy. Not just sausage flavor with specks that look like fly poop but actual sausage. It may in the future, be harmful to your health to tell a man that he can expect biscuits and gravy for breakfast and have the gravy be just plain ol' thanksgiving-like tater gravy. That simply is not right.
OK, kickstands up at about 09:00 a little off schedule but we're here to have fun. Shawn decides to check his tire pressure. Now? Now? Ok... His rear is a little low. No worries. The love barge has a build in compressor. It has to adjust it's built in air ride shocks. So Pat drags out the hose hooks her up, and pushes the button.
Nothing happens.... Pushes it again, Nothing happens. Get out the manual still nothing. Now he has 5lbs less air than he had 5 mins ago. Must be a fuse. Where is the fuse box? Lot of plastic on that thing. Oh well we'll get air at the gas station.
At the gas station they have a nozzle that's made for putting air in semi's not motorcycles. You can't reach his valve stem. But he knew this, he also knew that our chances of finding a gas station with a hose that would work on his rear tire was slim. I scratched my head and thought for a moment. We need to do something about this. So we left in search of the air pump… Shawn certainly wasn't in any position to slay any dragons with only 20 something lbs of air in his tire when he's supposed to have 40.
We passed an Auto-Zone or some such store, and I figured while they went checking all the gas stations by the highway I'd stop and check to see if they had something to extend the valve so that a normal nozzle would work. Of course they didn't. But what they did have was a 12v powered pump. For 16 bones and some change we would be on our way to the dragon. Small price to pay… 'Git-er done' echo'd in my head.
So after pumping up Shawn's tire we head out and down 68 South East.
68 from Sweetwater to Tellico Plains sucks as a road. It's your typical two lane road. Beautiful views, but you have to be paying attention to the traffic you're dealing with. Fast traffic, cross streets, turning in and off the road, too much so for me to really enjoy the view. Still weather is good. And we're heading to the GAP!
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In Tellico Plains, we jump over to 165, and things start to get exciting. The twisties start picking up  . When you see a sign in Tellico Plains that says Warning Gravel in road, they mean it. The transition from 68 to 165 is interesting to say the least.
This road is wonderful though. Nice sweepers as you head on up into the mountains.
It (165) then morphs into 143 the Cherohala Skyway as it crosses over a mountain. Whew, what a great road.
We stopped at an over look to take a break and admire the view:
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There we had the opportunity to chat with a feller that had a very, very nice GoldWing-Trike conversion and was pulling a trailer through the mountains. There was also a guy with a full dressed Harley. Apparently, he couldn't stand towing it across this beautiful road anymore and had to unload her and ride it for a while. (Whatever ?!?) I guess he was going to make his wife drive the truck for a while. We rested, and unloaded and were ready to take off.
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Horsepower or comfort? |
Strike a pose! |
That's a long way down! |
Amazing views! |
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While we were suiting up, these two red MG's come flying by us one right behind the other. Maybe 6 feet behind the other. Red, with racing stripes. The one leading had numbers on it and sponsor decals etc. It was neat to see.
About 5 minutes latter give or take we take off and run off first. I eventually catch up to the MG's and ride behind them. Oh what a site to behold These guy's were scooting! Not once did they touch the double yellow line, or the white line for that matter. It was like they were chained together. They must know this road like the back of their hands. Impressive. I liked the show, and I liked having them in front of me. Better for them to get the ticket I was thinking. After 15 - 20 miles of this we finally crest the mountain and head down the other side and we run into fog, thick juicy fog. Enough fog that I can only see all of the rear MG and no longer all of the front MG. So I slow down. This doesn't faze them in the least. They just keep motoring on down the mountain.
As I get into the heavy fog, I also start to get chilly. I've been running hard for 20 minutes and have put some distance between myself and everyone else so I figure I'll pull over and try and put something on or over my Leathers to get warm again.
The first pull off or over look I come to is a small one. Low and behold who's in it? Mr. Harley loading his bike back up on the trailer. So I roll by that one, and around the bend is another. I stop there and dig out my FrogToggs. Really it's all I have with me at the time. At least it will keep me dry and act as a wind breaker. These things rock! Money well spent.
After we regroup, we head down the mountain, through the Fog and into Robbinsville for Lunch. Keeping it cheap we do the Wendy's thing. Jr. Bacon and Chili…
After lunch we headed up north west on 129 to "The Gap". The Gap is 129, The Dragon, or the Tail of the Dragon. It's called by a few different names.
318 curves in 11 miles, good turns too! Not sweeping 45 mile per hour turns, most are 25MPH, 15MPH or 10MPH. It's an awesome road.
Up about half way is the Deals Gap Motorcycle resort:
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Quite a few bikes here today. |
These pictures do not do it justice.
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The Deals Gap resort is a hotel/motel for motorcycles, a snack bar, restaurant, and accessory store. Sport Touring Accessories I ordered my Throttlemeister from this place, so it was cool to see it first hand. The place was crawling with Sport bikes, a hand full of cruisers, a few harleys, a few motards. Basically anything on Two Wheels. I should have taken more pictures.
They also have the infamous Tree of Shame (see photos below). If you crash on the Dragon you are supposed to leave a piece of your bike behind (Check out the mirror). While we were there (only about two hours worth) 3 bikes went down that day. All minor, at least to the rider. Nobody got hurt. All the sport bike riders had leathers or decent gear on. I didn't see any squids. There was a Honda CBR1000RR and a Yellow Suzuki with parts to add.
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The Infamous Tree Of Shame |
I got a message for ya! |
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Killboy was there shooting photos as they do regularly. As of this writting they have not posted photos from our weekend. When they do, if they are decent, I will buy them and post them here. I know both times I passed the main photographer I was stuck behind a cage so I was not in 'Touring' mode, not 'Sport' mode. Hopefully there was more than one, as I did get to grind some peg feelers on the Dragon .
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After our feast pas we stopped for a little break, to evaluate the situation, and check on the barge rider, make sure he was OK with the road. Pat (Sean's Dad) was a little hesitant about the Dragon at first and we wanted to make sure it didn't give him too much of a work out.
We pulled off along the north part where it winds along the river after the damn to discuss what we saw and grab a beverage. This is a little out of order. We didn't stop at the Resort until on our way back up the on the second pass.
No I'm not wizzing on my bike, I'm zipping my leathers back up.
It was a tad warm that afternoon and I had long johns on underneath.
I cannot comment on what Shawn is doing though.
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After our second run, we stop at the resort, survey some of the damaged bikes. Grab some goodies and a T-Shirt from the accessories store and head on out route 28 south. This is where the story really gets exciting.
Route 28 is a good road too. And the cops know it. In fact I wish we'd have know it. In fact I wish we'd have known that the law in North Carolina is more like being on a game show than real life.
I wish I had seen this map before we went on our trip:
Deals Gap Area Radar Map
See that Red on route 28 in the center of the map? This is where you get to play the game.
Here's my story
This is my story, while I'm fairly certain, Shawn, my father and his agree 100%, I am not speaking for them, nor by me writing this and publishing it on the internet, do I represent them in any way. I and I alone call the NC troopers, or rather the men who push their buttons cowards and revenue generating opportunists.
We were traveling along Rt. 28 at a decent clip, 65 MPH to be exact, why do I say that? Because my speedometer on Zed is 10% optimistic and it read 72 MPH. 72 x .9 = 64.8. I was leading, Shawn was following, my father behind him, I *thought* Pat on the 'Love Boat' was behind him. Keep in mind, during the whole weekend so far, if and when Shawn and I turned it up a notch we just up and left my father and Pat. We were all together.
I round a bend, and here comes a state trooper, he sees me, I see him. I check my speed, 72 on my speedo (which I know is 65), I tap my brakes a little, but figure I'm in that 10 over safe zone. It's a clear day, roads are good, and there is plenty of sport bike fodder out here. Hell on the other side of the gap, I watched a guy ride a wheelie through 4 gears. As he passes me I see him brake hard, and I think to myself, great, here we go.
Now as riding in groups goes, the rule of thumb normally says, the cop clocks the guy in front, then writes up everyone in the group for doing the same speed. I figure, I'll just nip this in the bud and take one for the team. I see a side road up ahead. I signal and pull in waving everyone else on. As I turn in I realize behind me is a group of about 8 sport bike riders. (interesting).
Both Shawn and my dad pull in behind me and before I can tell them to get lost, the trooper pulls in. I tell Shawn he should have kept going. That I was the lamb that was going to take the ticket.
Trooper Joe (not his real name to preserve his integrity) walks up to me and asks for my license and registration, he looks over at Shawn and asks for the same. He then proceeds to ask me if I know how fast I was going. I tell him matter of factly, yes I think about 65 miles per hour. He asks if I know what the speed limit is on the road. I tell him I'm pretty sure it is 55. He then turns to Shawn. He looks Officer Joe in the eyes and says I was going 62 MPH.
I look at him with compassion on my face, and say, hey we're here to enjoy the roads and scenery like everyone else. I'm not going to lie to you. We've been having fun. But I'm telling you right then and there, when you passed me, I was going 65. I know what my speedometer said, I also know that the GoldWing was keeping pace, and if we were doing over 65, the GoldWing couldn't keep pace. I'm not knocking Pat, he just doesn't ride like a mad man on that thing. He's a cruiser :) and he enjoys it, it's a beautiful thing.
He says to me; "I'm not going to argue with you, but I clocked both of you and you were going way faster than that." "Perhaps you didn't realize that anything 20 over the speed limit is a mandatory court appearance here in North Carolina". "Now what I can do for you is write the ticket for 70 in a 55, or I can let you look at the Radar. But if you look at the Radar, I'm going to write the ticket for what's on the Radar."...
Shawn and I are speechless.
I hand him my license and registration. Shawn does same. Shawn and I discuss the only one rider stopping thing, he has yet to say a word to my dad. How did he clock two bikes 20 yards apart? We closer than that? I don't know? My bung hole hurts.
Welcome to North Carolina
Right about then Pat shows up. He couldn't make the turn, so he passed us up, tried to turn around off the road in a gravel area and dropped the wing... He couldn't pick it up. The sport bike riders, who if the cop clocked anyone, he clocked them, stopped and helped him pick it up. The had just blown by him prior to the cop passing us.
It gets better...
The fine for this 70 in a 55 infraction is a mere $25 the court costs are $100. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around. Legalized Extortion.
When I find out how to get out of this I'll let you know but apparently NC reports all tickets 15MPH over the limit, which my ticket qualifies for. But they have a Program by which they can get that ticket reduced to a 64 in a 55. Gee, wonder how much that costs. I'll let you know.
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Yah know, if they simply set up a toll booth at the tail of the dragon in North Carolina and charged visitors $5.00 per ride, they would make a killing. I would have gladly paid $10 for my two rides. I would have paid $20 per ride if they would have kept the cars off the road.
NC and TN need to put their heads together and come up with a plan.
This road is a grown man's amusement park. One giant roller coaster, bring your own sled. Post dates and times when it's cars only, bikes only, bicycles only. Kind of like Adult swim time at the community pool. The world will be happier, and safer.
Charge us a fee for admission. We'll pay it. Fine us if we get out of hand. Privatize that road if you have to. But this silly ticketing people for BS, simply for revenue, is silly. We contributed to the economy simply by visiting your lovely area. Don't discourage us from coming back. Nail my arse to a wall if I get stupid. Hammer on the public stunterz, and the drunks. Write me a ticket for my actual speed, 65 in a 55 if safety is your concern. But stop the BS please.
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After our Ticket, or my Ticket that he also happened to get as Shawn puts it., we finished the ride on down to 28 where it dead ends into 74. It was our plan to run down 28 into Franklin, Up 441 to the Blue Ridge Parkway and work our way back. But we were running out of time. Daylight is running short this time of the year so we decided to back track down 74/19 up, 129 back through Robinsville, the way we came. It was a beautiful yet uneventful ride. We knew there was Steak and Catfish dinner waiting for us in Sweetwater, and that was our goal!.
We returned to Sweetwater, I jumped out of my leathers and into some street clothes. I was done playing super-hero for the day. And we headed to Grillers (I'm not sure if the link works or not) but that's supposed to be their official web site. I got a counter to load? Anyway it's advertised as a Steak and Catfish Pub. You can get all you can eat catfish, or all you can eat chicken or all you can eat catfish and chicken. Or you can get steak. But they had no Steak and catfish combos. Does this make sense to you?
The place is nice and quaint, a typical hometown up-scale restaurant/pub, not a chain. We had a kid from college wait on us. Man, I guess anyone can get in these days. This guy needed a system, and needed it badly. We were pretty much the last 4 some to be served and he had us. Perhaps he already fired up the doobie, but he couldn't remember anything from the time he took our order to the time he walked 10 feet away to the kitchen and came back. Two of us ordered coffee and water, two of us ordered sweet tea. I ended up with a diet and sweet tea, Shawn got his sweet tea, and we got one coffee and water. Every time he came back to the table he came back to a different side. We were crackin up. He asked us what we were riding, I asked him if he rode. He said yes, he had a 600 of some sort, but wrecked it. I asked him if he was going to get another bike. He said something to the affect of "No, he could not afford to die right now, but maybe after college" !?! hehehe... OK.
Dinner was good, even though the orders were again screwed up. My dad didn't get the mushrooms he ordered but got them on the house anyway. My Salad with grilled portabella mushrooms to go with my steak included a salad with regular un-grilled mushrooms. It was all very tasty though. I would recommend this restaurant and would go back again. Towards the end I was laughing hard enough I nearly had sweet tea coming out of my nose. I did spit it all over the table though.
After dinner we packed it in for the night...
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Day Three
The Trip Home
Sunday Came way too fast... I could have used a week of this kind of riding. Nice cool weather, nice country roads, low traffic. Ahh, back to the daily grind we go. But still there was fun to be had. We Slabbed it down to Sweetwater. Slabbing is a motorcycle term for taking the interstate. Today we're going to take back roads all the way back home to Cincinnati. Or are we? That's the plan.
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| Bikes locked up at night |
Gearing up for the ride home |
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Zoom in on the first leg of our trip home.
And we're off... Our initial route was to be up I-75 for a little Jaunt, hop off at 441/116. Take 116 because the MAD Map said don't miss this road, boy were they right. Almost as good as the Gap in my book.
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Route 116 TN what a road! |
Amazing views! |
That's a long way down! |
Again, I am not... |
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Then up Route 62 to 27, across 52 to 127. We stopped in a little po-dunk town (Jamestown), for lunch. I pulled over and asked a trooper where the best place to get lunch was, he said Ruth's. So we headed there. It was a great home cooked buffet. However. As you may have noticed, I was putting on my over pants in the above "Getting Ready Picture". These are insulated pants. It was a 70 degree day and I was HOT. So the first thing I did when I got there was take them off. I grabbed a pair of Jeans, went straight into the restroom to change. After lunch I go out to get ready to roll and I don't have my keys. What no keys? I search everywhere. Tankbag, all my pockets. I thought for sure I put them in my jacket. Then I remember placing them on the shelf in the restroom. This was a clean place, weren't that many people in there. I go back in and look. No keys. I inform the fellas that I have no keys, this is bad. We search again, we tear my bike apart, just in case, go through all my bags again. We ask the staff if anyone turned them in. No dice. Right after I came out of the restroom, a mentally challenged child went in. We're pretty sure he picked them up. No malice meant, who knows what he did with them. He may still be playing with them. I need to call that restaurant and check just to see if they've turned up.
What to do now? Bikes aren't as easy to hot-wire today as they were in the past. Plus I don't have enough gas to get home even if we do POP the lock. I'm 5+ hours away, my wife is NOT going to be happy if she has to come get me but it looks like that's the plan.
We try for about an hour to find a locksmith. There isn't one around. I call my wife, tell her the bad news and put her on standby. Tell her to get the trailer ready, get these tyedowns, etc. But we didn't give up. We found ONE locksmith 45 Miles away. Who answers his phone on a Sunday. He thinks he has a blank, but without the code, he can't help me. No problem, the code is hanging on a tag with my OTHER KEY at home SAFE in a drawer. So I call my wife and get the code. Long story short, he shows up an hour and a half later and for $110 bones (cheap if you ask me) I now have two more keys and we're ready to roll.
Hey, I'm still smiling because I'm still riding and I'm not working.
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Now with the ticket, the locksmith, this little weekender is getting expensive. But hey it was a boat load of fun. But now we can't take backroads all the way home. So we head on up 127 north up around lake cumberland, cross the dam (way cool).
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Dam |
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Over the parkway, and across 80 to 75. From there it's Superslab all the way home. So regardless of the ticket (pure revenue generating BS), and my lost key misfortunes. This was a blast. Good weather, good times, good friends. I think everyone had a blast. I'd go back in a minute. Armed with my Valentine One firmly mounted at all times, with a spare key in my wallet. You're never too old to learn something.
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©Copyright 2004 Matt Disher, All Rights Reserved.
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