Kelly's Run - A Ride Report in Four Parts

[emptysea]

Jeezalou! I'm working on it!!

(should be posted tonight)

[Elipten_imp]

Give the man a. Break, some of us still work for a living.


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[Cormanus]

That's right! And the rest of us need entertaining!

[Pterodactyl_imp]

Taking a leaf from the book of the "Now Generation", we want the next the next season of Kellys Run NOW.

Cheers

[Cormanus]

Don't you mean "taking a screen from the ebook of the 'Now Generation'"?

[Elipten_imp]

ES they love your great writing. You have a hungry fan club.


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[emptysea]

Part IV

"This ol' highway's getting longer.
Seems there ain't no end in sight.
To sleep would be best, but I just can't afford to rest..."

Garth Brooks' song "Much Too Young (to feel this damn old)" seemed like the anthem for the last day of my ride. I needed to get home. I needed to see Cheryl. I needed to rest, but I still had 430 miles to go before I could do so.

Another hot day. This one would have no rain. It had rained at least once on each of the last three days, but only once did I need to change to rain gear. I viewed that as a victory. However, I may have traded the sweltering sun for a light rain and the cloud cover that accompanies it.

Checked out of the Red Roof Inn after a very pleasant night's sleep. At about 10 the night before there was a knock on the door that was a little startling. I answered the door to the wide-eyed look of the woman on the other side who just realized she had the wrong room number. I'm pretty sure she was Mrs. On The Balcony In His Underpants. After that, though, it was quiet and I was well-rested for this last leg of my journey.

I searched (guess where?) for a breakfast place and I found wonderful little diner, Lisa's Fifth Street Diner. It's on 5th Street. I'm quite sure I was the only non-local in the place on a Sunday morning. I sat at the counter and had a free-flowing conversation with most of the staff. It's kind of a neat thing this traveling on two wheels--people just start talking to you. Some old guy in overalls said something odd and loud, I can't recall what, but it must have caused me to turn my head a little. My waitress said "Don't mind ol' Pete. He says crazy cuss all the time". I had another great breakfast of eggs (over medium as you all should know by now) with sausage links, potatoes and a cup of Joe. I opted for the locally-sourced sausage which added something like $1.00 to my $5.00 bill. She said "Come back to visit us again soon" I was heading toward the door and turned back to reply, "I may very well plan my next motorcycle trip specifically around having breakfast here." I wasn't just being polite.


Any place that has breakfast side dishes that include grits, biscuits and gravy, and fried bologna is OK in my book.


I stepped out into the morning sun and noticed two guys, one older than the other, perhaps father and son, standing by their Harleys which were parked next to my bike. They were out for a day ride. They saw my bike fully loaded and asked where I was going and how I liked the bike and such. As I put on my gloves, the dad looked at me in my full, black/gray, gear and asked, "Y'all get hot in that?". I replied that sometimes I feel like a baked potato, but that it's not so bad when I get moving and that I had better do just that.

It was still pretty early, not Ferret-Early or even ShortTimer-Early, but early enough, as I navigated through the nearly empty streets of Bowling Green and found KY9007, formally named William H. Natcher Green River Parkway.

Maybe it was the day, or maybe the time of day, or maybe both, but there was nary a soul on 9007. It's a four-lane divided highway with a wide grass median. Mostly straight, it still has some hills, and has a 70 mph speed limit (Maybe 65. I was going 80 and wasn't paying attention to those particular signs). I know that many people swear by their windscreen, but I ride my CB1100 without one and have had no issues thus far. Long straights at 80+ with wind are less pleasant than curved roads through the mountains, but the screen isn't the difference for me.

My plan was to follow Natcher Parkway to Owensboro where I would cross the mighty Ohio River for the last time. It's a beautiful waterway that has played a major role in many many parts of US history. I have had a few opportunities to ride along its banks over the past spring and summer and I cannot wait to get back to explore some more. Ferret is lucky to live close to the Ohio and is a wealth of knowledge on the river and the cities and towns that line its banks. If you get a chance to ride with him, do so.

Natcher Parkway ends, I believe, in Owensboro. In any case, my trip on this road ended there. I worked my through town to the Glover Cary Bridge, which was under repairs so I had to wait while the opposing traffic crossed. The color of the bridge struck me for some reason and waiting wasn't so bad because I had the crisscross of sky-blue steel to keep my attention.


The Ohio River Blues?




After crossing into Indiana, I got my kicks on Route 66, although this was Indiana 66 not US 66. It is part of the Ohio River Scenic Byway, and while this section was not particularly scenic, the Byway is a route worth traveling on a bike. Nice stretch of road, regardless of the scenery and it would take me to the long and not-so winding road that leads me back to her door--US41.

I lost track of time on this trip. I'm not sure why. I mean, there's a clock on the intrument panel so I knew what time it was, but as I recollect the trip, I have difficulty in recalling if it was morning or afternoon when I passed though towns. Maybe it was because of thinking of Kelly or about getting home as quickly as possible. Maybe it was the heat, but I don't know what time I rode through Evansville, IN and turned directly north toward home. I do recall that the temperature was rising.

As I headed up 41, I decided it was time for a little off-bike time. I had seen several brown signs announcing that George Rogers Clark National Historical Park was 10 miles, then 5 miles, then 2 miles away. A park probably meant shade and water and I could use a little of both. I wear a Buff (like a bandana) around my neck or over my head on most of my rides and learned just outside of Chattanooga the day before that soaking it in water then putting back on my head or neck aided in keeping me cool. I had just dampened it about 1/2 hour earlier and it had just about stopped being effective when I exited 41 in Vincennes, IN to stop at this park.

I found another interesting stopping point before I got to GRC Park; the Inidana Military Museum. Took the opportunity to get a few interesting pictures.





I stopped at the park and I took a bunch of pictures, but hardly any that include me or the bike. It's really a very pretty and peaceful park, right along the river. It is off the beaten path a bit, but a nice spot to catch some shade and get a drink of water. I even spent some time in the visitor's center to soak up some AC. Many interesting exhibits, but I wasn't really focused on that. I will stop the next time through.



The little kid behind me at the outdoor water fountain laughed when I deliberately spilled my entire water bottle on my dri-fit t-shirt. Another great tip I picked up and implemented. That and the wet Buff kept me comfortable until my next stop which was for lunch in Rockville.

41 is a nice stretch of road in this part of Indiana. Fast enough, but with some curves and hills to make it interesting. It has a few more little sections of curves and hills north of Rockville, but eventually it just flattens out through farmland. Pretty in it's own right, I suppose, but not particularly interesting to see for 2 or 3 straight hours.

On our last trip, our group stopped at the Thirty-Six Saloon in Rockville. It's a biker themed bar and grill and they have some pretty good BBQ. I stopped here again. I got a brisket sandwich and an iced tea. Good food, friendly staff, and at a reasonable price.

When I parked, there was only one other bike on the street. By the time I walked out, a few riders had shown up.


As I started to gear up for the remainder of my ride, the couple who were on the bike with the flag next to mine were on their way to their bike, too. The female passenger, who had come out a minute or so before the guy, asked me "Isn't it hot in all that gear?" and I replied "Yes, a bit, but it's not too bad once you get moving, which I aim to do as soon as possible". Her significant other then appeared in his Harley tank-top and jeans. This outfit was apparently too warm for him and he, with her assistance peeled the tank-top over his head, exposing his tattooed back and the butt of what I believe was a Smith&Wesson .45 tucked into the front of his waistband. I think I would be more comfortable in my full gear than with a handgun pointed at my man-parts, but that's just me.


Did I mention that 41 straightens out a little north of Rockville?


My last stop was for gas near Morocco, where I had bought Backwoods Smokes a few days earlier. I tried smoking that thing on my walk back from JW's to my hotel on my first night. If you sprayed a very cheap cigar with the perfume a stripper might use, you could wind up with something similar in flavor.

The Mobil station on the south side of 41 near Morocco is a nice clean place and they have seats inside and blessed air-conditioning. I filled up, bought a bottle of water and sat down to relax a bit. The woman managing, and I think owning, the station asked me "Don't you get hot in that gear?" I replied "Yes, Yes I do". She was a rider and told me about a couple of nice roads in the area. She was also the one who first told me about "Shoe Corner", which I was to pass in a relatively short time.

Time to head home. No longer in the mood to take pictures. My butt hurt. It was hot. I missed my wife. I missed the comfort of my recliner. Plus, I needed to get some rest soon. Monday was going to be The Solstice Ride and I was going to have to be out of the rack and onto my bike at 5:15 that morning.

Sunday traffic on 294 was less than pleasant, but I made it home intact. I felt I was gone for a week, not just 4 days. I rode with a new friend, said goodbye to an old friend, visited new places, and learned just how cathartic riding a two-wheeled motorized vehicle can be.

I'm much too old to feel this damn young

Start


Finish

[Short Timer_imp]

Nice wrap up EmptySea and great pics. A ride you'll always remember.

[Elipten_imp]

Superb! Wish I could write that well.


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[Cormanus]

Another fantastic write up, EmptySea. You tell it well.

Thanks again for taking the trouble to write it for us.