The Road Ahead ................. (Florida Ride 2013): You Can't Get There From Here

April 19, 2013
Not only did the planned visit with Cousin Bob and his wife, Susan, not go as planned, I got lost trying to find their place in the country, even with a GPS.

It started out as a clear but cold ride, which I knew it would be when I walked out to the parking lot and felt the cold chill in the air. The weather up till the day of rain had been down right hot .... and muggy. The cold front that dropped all the snow in the northern states of the Midwest had dropped down and collided with the warm air mass from south Texas, the recipe for tornadoes, and there were some in Mississippi but not in the Dallas area as predicted. The cold air mass won that battle and has left this part of Texas a little cold, actually face-numbing cold on a motorcycle.

Learning that Cousin Bob was back home, I bundled up and rode south toward Athens, hoping the GPS would get me through the maze of country roads, one of which is where Bob and Susan live on 19 acres. I was there 12 years ago and had in my mind a picture of what the area looked like.

The ride was magnificent to start with, rolling through the green countryside south of Tyler, around the curves and up and down the small hills where various four-legged critters of the livestock world were in abundance.

The GPS was doing fine, I was making the correct turns and watching the "miles to destination" drop closer and closer to zero. When I was within 4 miles of my target I came upon my first setback, a construction zone where I ended up stopped behind a tractor towing some type of farm apparatus. As we started up, behind a pilot car, to travel down a graded, dirt road, two mastiff-looking dogs broke from a nearby yard and charged toward my right side, barking. I was trapped by the confining position in line and very vulnerable. The nearby flagger called a halt to the charge, as if the two dogs were his, and they stopped.

If I'd left my video camera running (I'd just shut it off moments before) I might have got some footage of them gnawing on my leg.

Finally free from the dust spewing tractor and back on pavement, I thought I was just moments away from my destination. The last turn was coming up. Wrong. The road was closed . . . ."bridge out". I had no choice but to continue straight ahead. The recalculation of the GPS added 4 more miles, directing me to Road 19, the main route between the towns of Canton and Athens.

Next I was directed to turn left on County Road 3800 a short distance ahead. I saw no road where I was directed to turn. It was a small, narrow intersecting road hidden by knee-high, roadside grass. When I finally did see it I couldn't turn left because of an oncoming vehicle and a fast one was approaching so quickly from the rear I thought I'd be run over sure. I wasn't.

I turned and meandered down a curvy, narrow road, which got narrower until finally dipping down to a rickety looking bridge. Three 2x6 planks bordered each side (total of 6 boards) of the bridge barely wide enough for one 4-legged vehicle. I stopped, got off and walked up to study the bridge, wondering if it had been crossed this century. A car from the opposite direction appeared and crossed, confirming that it would in fact support the Harley's weight. But I was skeptical about large, finger-sized, spikes used to nail down the planks. The dull edges of the nail heads, after being hammered sideways to flatten them, were like dull knife edges. (I might add that the road was too narrow to turn around and a slight incline prevented backing up. I have no reverse.) So it was .... I gritted my teeth and went for it.

Once across the bridge, the road got even narrower, barely wide enough for a car. If I met one I wasn't the one who was going to back up a half mile. I saw what looked like three horses standing in the middle of the road at the top of a rise. Turned out to be an optical illusion. They were actually behind a fence next to a curve in the road, which now I was sure was someones driveway and I was about to dead end in that someones front yard .... probably protected my large and angry dogs.

Given the way the past three days had gone in trying to accomplish this "cousin visit," I was ready to give up. If I could find a way back to road 19 I was tempted to get on it and make tracks to the town of Athens. I was beginning to wonder if it was worth the effort and I figured my GPS, notorious for tricking me on turns before, was pulling the granddaddy of practical jokes.

Well, it wasn't a driveway. Once I got to the cluster of buildings where I thought the road would dead end, I discovered, like the horses, they were off to the side of the road. I rode on by and came to a T intersection. The road looked better to the right, but the GPS said go left.

I came to another intersection and another instruction to take the road to the right. It's a good thing because the road ahead was closed and another sign said the bridge was out. I figured (turned out correct) it was the other side of the first "bridge out" road. Yet, I also figured my destination might be down that road for I no longer trusted my GPS who said to turn right. I figured it was time to call Susan for help.

This time I had the wherewithal to take off my helmet before I dialed. I punched in the first two numbers and the phone rang. That's odd, I thought, answering it. It was Susan, wondering if I was having trouble. I was and said so in not a pleasant tone.

Turns out I was only a stone's throw from their driveway (I could almost hear the GPS laughing and saying, "I told you so."), the one they assured me was okay to traverse on a motorcycle. When I got there, I realized the picture I had in my mind from 12 years ago wasn't at all in line with reality.

The steep, graveled incline gave me pause. About that time, Cousin Sandy ... who'd driven there before me, came down to guide me in. She drove me along the hidden driveway so I could inspect it before getting myself into a position where I couldn't turn around if I deemed it impassable. I was somewhat surprised that, apart from one "soft spot," it was mud-free after the big rain the day before and the only steep part was the initial part, which was graveled. I decided to go for it.

I rode my rear break down the graveled hill and made my way through dips and bumps, finally arriving in Bob and Susan's front yard.

Cousin Jim arrived in Athens a couple of hours later, about 13 miles away, and requested someone come get him where he'd just checked into a motel in Athens. That's what I should have done.

I rode with Sandra who followed Susan to Athens. From there, Sandra drove back to Tyler where she was staying the weekend with her daughter and was expected back there soon, but wanted to say "hi" to Jim first.

I took that opportunity in Athens to check into a room near Jim's at the $42 Budget Motel. Susan drove us back to hers and Bob's home.

We had a good visit and shared many memories of years ago. Susan fixed a nice chicken dinner with strawberry short cake for desert.

It was dark (and cold) when I made my way down, up and out of the driveway with fogged up goggles, following Susan and Jim through the maze of country roads back to Athens.

Tomorrow, Jim and I ride east to Louisiana.