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Ride 'em Before Ya Marry 'em! - Qwaz
After reading several of your exploits, I decided to venture into the realm of contributors in hopes I might get a flavor of the people who may have either ridden with you, or contributed to your website musings. I was much amused and enlightened.
The purpose in visiting that side of your column was twofold; to glean knowledge from other peoples' ventures; and, to put that new knowledge into my mental database for future reference. One can never be too smart, as life is a learning curve which doubles back on us at times. I also wanted to share one of those moments, which, in the realm of biking, are totally frustrating at the time and totally hilarious when all is said and done.
I live in Knoxville, Tn. and ride a RoadKing Classic. After paying for the bike, it left little money for options except a backrest for my female companions (1 at a time). Oh ….. And new mirrors. Well, my Sweetie at the time had never taken an overnighter on a bike, so I felt obligated to share one of life's joys.
I picked her up at 9 in the morning on Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, two years ago. I had told her we would be riding through North Georgia, just meandering through the mountains, stopping at Amicolola Falls State Park, Dahlonega, Tallulah Gorge, and spend the night in Maggie Valley, NC. Needless to say, the trip was great. Took Highway 64 through Tellico Plains, Tn. to Copperhill, on down into Blue Ridge, Georgia and the aforementioned places. At one point I happened to notice a sign that said "Atlanta …60 Miles". My mental geopositioner told me I was drifting too far south, so we headed north on Highway 441 out of Talullah Gorge. Ran into a brief shower at Dillsboro, NC., but it was only brief enough to heighten our sense of smell in the mountains. Life was good … I saw promise for the evening if I could just get the wine chilled.
As we approached Maggie Valley, I started noticing "No Vacancy" signs at every motel, including the Mom and Pop places. Our plans had included dinner at Maggie, but every place was chocked full of folks. I made a decision to go to Asheville to catch a room there, not knowing there was an AAU basketball tournament in town that weekend. It sure seemed that every parent, Grandparent, Uncle, Cousin, and basketball-dribbling child through age 16 living within 500miles was in Asheville for the weekend.
I had a deeleema on my hands. We cruised every road in Asheville, pulled into every motel and hotel, hoping against all odds. I think the straw that broke the camel's back was when we found the last room in Asheville up on Tunnel Road and some guy from India was squatting in the doorway (if you were in 'Nam or the Philippines, you'll know the visual) smiling, saying "We have last good room in Asheville .. You stay with us?" I didn't have to respond …… my Sweetie said "I'll not even put my feet on this ground, much less stay in this dump".
We quickly rode to the Cracker Barrel at Interstate 40 just in time to watch it close. I swung in next door to get gas and my lil' buddy behind me crawled off the RoadKing and said, "I can't ride another mile". I thought for a moment, looked her square in the eyes and said, "We have two options …. We can sit on our ass on this curb all night or we can ride two more hours down I40 to Knoxville …. Your choice" (I said it nicely … I ain't stoopid). We rode (after a pack of Nabs and a Coke, of course!).
14 hours and 543 miles after we had started, we got her home. I'm not real crazy about interstates, but it's even worse at night in the mountains when you can smell the spilled diesel on the curves from where the truckers have just topped off their tanks for the next haul. Let's not forget to mention pieces of recaps and roadkill scattered about. I guess that's just part of the adventure though. Thinking about those tiny 8 square inches of tires touching the pavement have a way of making your lil' ass pucker a bit more when you hit the curves and see a shiny dark streak in the area you know those 8 square inches are gonna be hitting. But as they say …. "All is well that ends well".
Ya know something …… I had dated that lady for nearly 5 years and it took just an extra 14 hours to figure out she and I didn't have the same desires when it came to living life instead of watching it. I still have my RoadKing ……. What a stroke of luck!
The way I've got it figured, it adds a new meaning to "Ride'em before ya' marry 'em".
 For Information, contact: Muthuh@Muthuh.com
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