Jul 27 2005

Day 2

N’awlins

Good start today. A hearty Snickers bar for breakfast, and I was off and rolling by 9 am. The weather was good most of the way. I managed to skirt all of the rain promised by The Weather Channel. Debated a sidetrip to Birmingham, but I still hadn’t contacted Alabama Rick, so I cruised on by that exit (knowing full well there would be hell to pay for this…rightly so). Before I got that far though, there was the Florida I10 rest stop at mile marker 162. The exit ramp was more than a mile long. Why is this park out in the middle of nowhere? Why is a park being used as a rest stop? Who knows. From there is was on to Pensicola, and then, finally, I was out of Florida.

Swee-tea, hon?

I stopped for lunch at one of the first exits in ‘bama. I decided to set the balance aright by eating at a Waffle House this time. It was quite respectable looking by Waffle House standards (are there really any other standards?).


Welcome to Mississippi

One of the poorest states has one of the most impressive welcome centers I’ve ever seen. I wanted to get a room there. The lady at the desk, however, was Manhattan condescending. I thought to myself, “You’re living and working Mississippi; what do you have to be condescending about?” I never quite figured out whose insecurites were at work–too many miles to travel to worry about it.

The Big Easy

Finally past all the river deltas and bridges and into New Orleans. An hour later than I had planned because of frequent stops. On the other hand, I gained an hour because of the time change. (I’m an hour closer to LA. Yippee.) In the meantime, the hotel I’d planned to stay at was booked because I never make a reservation because I couldn’t figure out exactly when I would be in town and I didn’t want to commit myself to a schedule that would make this whole trip seem like work. Not to worry (geek alert), my Sony Ericsson P910 is full of info I collected on my last trip. Between that and a little judicious surfing, I found a guest house I’d scouted out on that trip. Cool. Dropped off my bags, parked the bike, showered and changed.

A Starlit Afternoon

Went out right away looking for something to eat. I chose fluid sustenance at Starlight bar. Two dollar drafts–it was love at first sight. Actually, it was second sight. I was there on my last trip. It’s a fairly neighborhoody bar. The bartender seemed to have missed all the mandatory, childhood, gender identity classes. Long hair tucked under a baseball cap, red t-shirt covering small breasts, jeans holding up a small potbelly and a man’s tenor voice. (Seems to be a theme. The bartender I had 2 years ago was much the same. He was 6’4″ or so–no potbelly here–hairy and had a deep voice. He, also, was dressed as a guy. He said he was beyond sex and gender and just looking for a man who could handle that. I realized that sentence was my cue to leave.) At any rate, by the time I left on this trip, the sun was still out. I grabbed a bite and spent an hour or two perusing the denizens of N.O.

Afterwards,
I was too tired to drink any more, so I made it an early night.


Thought for the Day
A while back, a friend told me what he thought were the two drivers for the human race: sex and bench press. I totally agreed with “sex”; I wasn’t so sure about bench press, but I could see the logic. That was a while back. Presently, I think the drivers are probably pretty much pleasure and power.

Jul 25 2005

Day 1

50 West, 27 North

Frantically mailed off things that I decided–at the last minute–not to carry: motorcycle jacket (90+ degrees for the entire route–what was I thinking?), wet weather gear (why would I ride in the rain…I’m not on a time schedule), spare clothes (too much stuff to keep clean), saddlebags (I have built in saddlebags…on my waist), guidebook (when this is over, I’m writing my own guidebook).

Finally got going at 10:30 or so. Debated Waffle House or Bob Evans for breakfast. (The proper amount of grease in my veins makes me feel at home.) Bob won. WTF!? Amazon waitress would not refill my sweet tea. When I’m famous, I will have her job. (Actually, since I’m unemployed, I need it now.) The other waitress looked like Christina Ricci with a lot more forehead (one would think that impossible, but I saw it). The place was filled with cotton tops. (Which reminds me, after having breakfast with my dad last week, the waiter brought over the check. Dad and I tussled. I won. I looked at the check. The guy gave us both senior discounts. I left this tip for him: get your eyes checked.)

Stayed on the backroads for early part of the afternoon, but that started to seem too slow. Great scenery though. Lots of motorcyclists were out–ninety percent without helmets. Future Quads of America.

Things you shouldn’t do

I75, exit 374, Café Risqué, just south of Gainesville. A sad reminder of what can go horribly wrong in the world of women who dance and the men who tip them. I decided to leave the backroads and make up some time. Then I decided that I should just pop into this place because I thought it was a place I stopped at with some friends while in college. If it’s the same place, it’s standards have declined. There was quite a bit of borderline disfigurement both on and off the stage. This next is a public service announcement: g-strings are not attractive. Ever. Not on women. Not on men. Not peeking, ever so subtly, over the waistband of your jeans as you bend over. Not ever, not ever, not ever.

“Will that be all, baby?”

That’s what the sales clerk at the bp station said when I payed for gas and a Gatorade. I love a southern accent. I always forget that Florida is the south…at least once you get to the northern part of the state. I’ve been called baby, hon and bubba enough times today to nearly wash away all memories of my northern life.

Bedtime. I have to have some energy for N’awlins.

Jul 22 2005

Day 0: Left coast, here I come

Finally decided to really do this (the trip and the blog), after months of leaving myself every possible out.