So I made it...

Just as a warning, this is a long entry so if you aren't time wealthy....

I left about 9 a.m. yesterday for a variety of reasons that had nothing to do with my planning the trip for a week or better. I had wanted to avoid the rain that was inevitable and leaving an hour and a half later than planned was not going to help things. I made it to Appomattox, about 85-90 miles, in a little under an hour and a half. Got some breakfast, used the boys room and left. I made it my goal to travel at least a hundred miles between stops and build up to longer drive times as I went. The last time I took a long bike ride was 2002 and that was about 530 miles...this trip was 633.

My next stop was Ironto, VA to fill up. I went 190 miles, no gas light, and after filling up, the average mileage was 50.1. Not too shabby. I drank a 20 ounce water so, anticipating some heat, I wouldn't dry out while riding. How wrong I was...

34 miles later, near Dublin, VA, I ran into the first of several storms. There is a really long, sweeping part of I-81 that allows anyone who is able to look to their right as they drive to see what must be 50 or miles worth of the western part of Virginia. The ugly cloud that I saw looked like one of the alien spaceships from War of the Worlds, the one with Tom Cruise and his Xenu friends in it. The rain looked like tendrils coming from the mother-ship and soaking the ground just a few miles away. It wasn't the rain that worried me, it was the frequent lightning that kept streaking across the cloud. It also made me consider that the roads in Knoxville and the entry ramp onto I-75 south in Chattanooga would be slick, slick, slick. So there was that to think about for, oh, the rest of the trip.

I pulled into a BP station and it was perfect timing. The rain came down like a bucket of water left over a door as a prank. It was BAD. About the same time as I pulled in, a couple on a larger (and nicer) BMW pulled in. We chatted while we waited for the storm to pass and I found out they were going the same way as I was. They had their nice Aerostich suits and Schuberth helmets, a GPS mounted to the handlebars of their bike and in general, were obvious bajillionares. I had to make do with my Tourmaster and Firstgear items, my Arai helmet being the only ritzy part of my equipment...oh and I was wearing jeans which would serve me well the remaining trip as they soak up and retain moisture really well. Because riding with a wet crotch is supremely comfortable.

When the storm passed, I got on the road and risked the road spray. I was soaked within 10 miles. By the time I made it to Abingdon, the sun was back out and I was able to dry out. I hadn't noticed yet that my boots were wet inside but hey, I'll get to that. I made the mistake of thinking the rain was over and continued on my journey.

I stopped again just past Bristol to fill up. Once again, 50 mpg and I had a quick lunch of over-fried chicken tenders and so-not-made-of-potatoes potato wedges. I noticed that my feet were feeling wet so I went into the bathroom, pulled my boots off and dumped about a 12 ounce can's worth of water into the sink. I wrung my sock out and repeated for the other foot. My toes looked like Jared Loughner, ugly and twisted (too soon?).  I put the still damp boots back on thinking "now they can air out and my feet will be fine!"

Within 5 miles of leaving the station, it was raining again.

The rain lasted from outside of Bristol all the way to Knoxville. 100 miles of rain, road-spray and trucks throwing road-spray up onto my visor. My "rain resistant" gloves gave up their resistance about 30 miles from Knoxville, my boots were...well, no sense in even rehashing it, they were full of water.  The only saving grace for me was that the jacket and my helmet were bone dry. I was also able to use my grip warmers to help keep my hands from freezing from the dampness so it wasn't too bad.

For anyone who has ever driven I-40 through Knoxville, you can understand why a biker on a wet road would cringe at the thought of riding through. The entire road is twisty and chock-full of traffic. I got there at EXACTLY 5 p.m. The timing of a dead man... Fortunately, the skies began to clear as I approached the city so the ride through was dry and I was able to avoid the worst of it. Getting to I-75 and heading to Loudon, TN for gas, I was feeling pretty good. The only things I worried about now were the ramp to I-75 south in Chattanooga, the one that is like a 90 degree turn, and the one lane road right outside of Loudon, TN that always has a massive traffic build up, but hey, no more rain, right?

2 miles onto I-75 and a cloudburst hit me. It rained for an amount of time necessary to soak me again. And it stopped. It just stopped. And it stopped in time for me to get into line for the one lane road. No sun to dry me out while I sat on the bike. No substantial movement to get the wind to dry me out. Just rain soaked jeans and boots. Rain drops running down my butt crack. Yes indeedy...

Once I got through the traffic, a half mile burst to triple digits to shake some water off, I stopped to top off my tank, dry off for a moment and head to Rome. Loudon to Chattanooga is about 80 miles so I had 80 miles of sunshine and clouds, time enough to really dry off and make up some time lost in the rain previous. As I approached the outskirts of Chattanooga, I saw the clouds again and cursed my luck in my helmet.  Mother Nature loves me. All I could think about (and had been thinking about) was that damned ramp on the south-side of Chattanooga that was like an ice rink.

I drove through the city for 15 minutes anticipating the rain. It never came. I just figured I would get pounded as soon as the ramp was in sight and my butt was ready to clench at a moment's notice. The ramp came...and went. No rain, no soaked pavement, no drama. Just smooth sailing the rest of the way.

The rest of the way proved to be Rossville GA. For those of you who do not know the area, Rossville is the second exit in Georgia so about 5 miles or so from Chattanooga. I stopped in at a rest area, called my wife quickly before the heavy rain started to tell her I would be in Rome within an hour and got back on the road. It rained like a hurricane from Rossville to a little south of Dalton. All I could think of was the warm shower waiting for me at my parents house. I made it to the Calhoun exit, took 53 to Rome and pulled into my parents driveway a few minutes after 8.

True to myself, I called my mother (Who I had told I was riding down Tuesday so as to not worry her all day) and asked if she could get something out of her car that I thought I had left from the last time I visited. She walked out to check and there I stood, 20 pounds of water in my boots, 10 in my gloves.

In the end, my mothers surprise and her happiness to see me made the rain seem not so bad. I'm looking forward to the trip home with perhaps some more adventures.