My alarm went off at 6:30 AM. I didn't want to get out of bed, but I forced myself. Lauren had to be at work by 8:00 and she and Trevor only had one bathroom, so I quickly slipped in and brushed my teeth and took care of other needs as fast as I could.
After I got dressed I went into the kitchen. Lauren was making eggs for breakfast. She added something different to the eggs that turned out to be very good. I think it may have been spinach. Unfortunately I don't remember specifically, because I would like to try it again. This is a good example of how mentally and physically wrecked I was by this point of the trip.
Trevor got up and came out and we had an enjoyable breakfast. Lauren had to leave to head to work, and having a very long day ahead of me I wanted to hit the road soon as well. Trevor and I sat and talked for a while longer. He showed me some interesting and convincing evidence that a rather prominently known musical group had stolen one of his songs.
Regrettably I had to hit the road. It's always hard staying with friends on motorcycle trips because I'm torn between wanting to spend time with them but still leaving early enough to reach my destination at a reasonable hour.
I loaded up the motorcycle and Trevor and I said our goodbyes. I pulled out of his neighborhood and searched for a nearby gas station to fill up. I found one about a mile down the road in the opposite direction I wanted to head, but at least I found one.
After filling up it was about 8:40, a full 40 minutes later than when I had hoped to be rolling. Because my route took me through the heart of Nashville, I was hoping that I would have made up the extra time by missing the 8 AM rush hour traffic.
I pulled onto the interstate and proceeded to make my way through downtown. If traffic had gotten lighter, I didn't want to see it an hour earlier. Cars were moving very slow, and we were stopping often.
Finally I got past the heart of downtown and the pace picked up a bit. I was hopeful that once I got on the highway and out of the metro area that I could make up the lost time. I pulled off onto highway 431, went about a mile north and was stopped again for road construction. There was a pilot car leading a train of vehicles that I had missed by two cars and a truck. Had I been 30 seconds faster I would have made it just in time.
So I sat and watched the train of cars disappear. Not knowing how long it would take for the car to make a return trip, I turned off the bike and got off to stretch. I would be sitting on the bike for a long time during the next few days so it was best to take the stretch break when I had the opportunity.
As it turned out, it was a good 20 minutes before the pilot car returned. Traffic behind me had backed up for what looked like miles. We slowly followed the pilot car through a long, long stretch of construction.
Once we were through the construction I was still stuck behind what looked like a sewer pumping truck whose driver didn't seem to be in any hurry to get to his destination.
It took several miles but I finally found an opportunity to safely pass him. And once I finally did and was able to get up to full speed, what would appear but another road construction area with a pilot car. Clearly I wasn't going to make good time on the day's journey.
Thankfully I reached this shortly before the pilot car returned, and then we just had to wait for the line of cars going the other direction to clear. This stop took about 10 minutes total. Another stretch break, I guess.
Rolling once again, things were still moving a little slow. The traffic between Nashville and Russelville, while not gridlocked, was fairly heavy. By the time I got to Russelville I was in need of a bathroom and snack break.
I stopped at a gas station that seemed pretty run down. I went in and inquired about the restrooms. They were outside and the guy handed me the key. I don't want to know how many germs are on gas station bathroom key rings.
After returning the key I grabbed a soda, a muffin and downed some ibuprofen. My shoulder was already hurting pretty bad and I knew it would only get worse as the day went on.
The next couple hours were anything but eventful. I rode north up to Owensboro, then west over to Henderson. From there I headed north into Evansville, IN. The scenery was getting sparser as I moved into the plains states.
I was getting hungry and my plan was to grab something to eat in Evansville. I crossed the large bridge over the state line, and entered Indiana. This would be the last new state I would add on this trip.
Not far over the bridge, and before I was able to spot a restaurant that looked appealing, I came across what I thought was highway 66 which I was going to take west. Unfortunately, I got all turned around in my head and instead found myself on I-65 heading east. I got on the on-ramp, and once I merged with traffic I realized I was heading in the wrong direction on the wrong road. I rode for a couple miles until I got to an exit, then pulled off and looked at my map.
I had indeed taken a wrong turn. Rather than back-tracking and taking my original route, I decided to modify my plans and continue on highway 57 up to interstate 64 and turn back west to rejoin my original path.
The down side to this change in plans, as I would quickly discover, was that this route was much more rural than I expected. There was nowhere to pull over and eat, and now the gas gauge was also getting low.
Finally across the border into Illinois, I pulled off at the first exit which I knew from memory had a gas station. I was in Grayville, IL. I knew Grayville because my wife has family that lives in the area and I had been here before to visit. In fact, her grandparents lived in the Grayville nursing home before they passed away.
I stopped and got gas. I knew of a McDonalds in Albion just 20 minutes away that would be my best bet at getting some food, but nature would not let me wait so I had to take a few minutes at the gas station to use the restroom.
I slowly putted through Grayville. The last time I had been there was 14 years earlier, so I remembered a few things. On the north side of town I picked up county road 130 that would take me to Albion.
Once in Albion I rode to the McDonalds. Inside I ordered food and relished some time off of the bike. My wife has an aunt and uncle that live in Albion, but I didn't stop to visit. For one thing, I don't know if they would have remembered me. For another, I hadn't let them known I was coming so I didn't know if they had any plans. For the third and biggest reason, I was physically ruined by this point and still had about 8 hours of riding ahead of me before I could relax in my hotel room. I opted not to make the day longer by trying to track them down.
I ate my lunch, and the rest time passed much too quickly. I went back out to the bike and slathered myself with more sunscreen. It was another hot day and the sun was beating down on me.
The afternoon passed with little to keep me interested or occupied. Illinois has lots of open, flat farm land. To keep myself sane while I rode, I wrote a song called "Concrete Woman." At the time of this writing my band has yet to record it, but it sounds great live and I think it has a lot of potential. It at least had a good enough hook that it stuck in my head most of the afternoon.
Around 5:00 I found myself in Decatur, IL, which was just south of Bloomington where I planned to stop for supper. Traffic picked up which slowed my progress and slightly frustrated me. I really wanted the day to be over. There just wasn't any scenery in Illinois, and I felt like crap.
Finally at quarter to six I rolled into Bloomington. Outside of the arrival at my hotel that would happen later that night, this was the highlight of my day. My family often stops in Bloomington on our yearly trip to Ohio, so I was familiar with what was available. And what was available to me was my favorite restaurant: Popeye's.
Before I stopped for food though, I did fill up my tank at a gas station across the street. I reasoned that my overall stop time would be shorter if I got gas and then ate, versus the other way around.
At Popeye's I relaxed in the air conditioning and feasted on my chicken. I think I drank three or four big glasses of iced tea, as I hadn't had much to drink during the afternoon and the hot sun had been beating down on me. I was most likely dehydrated as four glasses of iced tea should have made me need the bathroom within an hour, but I didn't.
I took advantage of the free wifi and found a hotel in East Moline, IL at the Quad Cities. It was two hours further down the interstate from Bloomington, and that was if I held a pretty brisk pace and made good time through Peoria.
My rest stop was over an hour, but frankly I needed it. I even momentarily considered just grabbing a hotel room right there in Bloomington, but I reasoned it would just make the next day longer. Eventually enough time had passed that I forced myself to reluctantly get back on the bike.
My last segment of the day would be all interstate travel. As with most of this day there was little remarkable about this last leg of they day's journey. West of Bloomington I went through Peoria, and then at Galesburg the interstate swung north. As I got near the Quad Cities the sun was going down and it was getting dark. I don't like to ride in the dark on my motorcycle trips, mainly because of deer. Also, as was the case on this day, riding in the dark meant that I was still on the bike and wouldn't have much time to relax that evening.
I turned west on I-280 and spent the last 15 miles riding through road construction at 45 mph. My windshield was pretty smeared from bugs, which in the dark meant I couldn't see very well. Unfortunately on this stretch there really wasn't anywhere I could pull over to clean it.
Finally I found the exit for the hotel. Next door was a gas station and I decided I would gas up now rather than in the morning. I also made sure to clean the bugs off my windshield and headlight which by this point had rendered both mostly useless.
I checked into my hotel and found my way up to my room. After a shower and a brief phone call to my wife, it was already time for me to call it a night. I really was wishing I'd had more time to relax, but when planning my route I knew this day was going to be a long one. Turns out I was right.
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This page last updated on 06/28/2018