Thursday, August 30, 2007

Day 11 - Columbia, SC to Ocala, FL

423 Miles

A little loopy on the routing again this morning. Left Columbia taking I-20 S. My intention was to take US 1 S to Augusta, GA. I took it as far as Lexington but overcast skies in that direction made me feel the "need for speed" ala Tom Cruise and I-20 offered that option. So, I cut over on Hwy 6 back to I-20 and sped toward Augusta outrunning the gray potential to the northwest,


If Pinehurst is golf heaven, these are the pearly gates.













The fat kid looking for Gabriel.
Searched my wallet thoroughly...I know that membership card was in there somewhere.



You can't see anything at Augusta National. The trees and undergrowth are so think surrounding the entire course you can't even get a glimpse of a fairway through them. Arnold Palmer says the drive up to the clubhouse still brings a lump into his throat. I determined it would bring a lump on my head so I didn't press it.


Augusta is a pretty town with a lot of those old southern buildings.








Churches everywhere.

In fact, on my journey through the south, I note churches everywhere. I know there is a significant increase in church membership in this country and the point gets brought home on a trip such as this where one goes through towns and not around them.



Of course, cynic that I am, I can't help but note that many of these churches were here when these good people were enslaving their fellow men and blowing others to kingdom come on the battlefields I've visited. It appears we don't seem to have made any real progress in this area. We doubtlessly have more Abner Scofields today than in Mark Twain's time.
(For those unfamiliar with Abner Scofield I'd suggest a visit to: http://www.angelfire.com/wizard2/armbuff/lettertoearth.html)

Took US25S out of Augusta, connecting to US24S in Waynesboro. Connected to US301S just north of Sylvania, GA, and stayed on it until just east of Ocala, taking SR200 west to the La Quinta at I-75.

I stopped at a TA truck stop at US301 and I-10 for a short break. While parking my bike I saw a couple ride in on a big Honda Gold Wing. They were trailing one of the largest bike trailers I've ever seen. I went in and got a drink and was sitting there and the man from the couple on the Gold Wing sat down in the booth next to me. We said hello and he asked me if the riding pants I wear were comfortable and cool. I replied in the affirmative and told him about the most "convenient" breeze one can capture if one holds his legs correctly. His wife joined us and said hello, though she looked like she could take a bike chain from a Hell's Angel.

He asked me where I was from and where was I going and after I replied and asked him the same, he stated they were almost home (Zephyrhills, FL) after being out for 13,000 miles. I asked where they had traveled and he said Texas, Montana, Utah, Wyoming, then up to Vermont to see their children, etc. After the mention of each place the wife would insert a complaint about the heat, the boredom on the back of the bike, the long hours riding, etc., etc., etc. Boy, what a Negative Nanny. I was tempted to tell the guy about a song I've heard a few times on this trip on Sirius-Outlaw Channel: "You finally said something good when you said goodbye."
While I can empathize with her in some ways if she doesn't like riding why not just let him go? Yeah, right, as if he's allowed to have fun while she's not there!

And some wonder why I travel alone. It's because I'm through negotiating my way through life!!

Tomorrow: A Mommy fix, some King's Barbeque, and, hopefully, some pickin' and grinnin'.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Day 10 - Raleigh to Columbia, SC

379 round-about miles

Left Raleigh about 7:45 a.m. on US 1 taking the US 15/501 bypass to Pinehurst below Sanford. For the uninitiated, Pinehurst is golf heaven. The Pinehurst No. 2 course is ranked in the top ten courses in the world (that's the bloody world, folks, not the county, state, or nation...the world). It's where golfers go when they die.


Pinehurst was built in 1895 and has been in continuous operation since then. I've stayed at both the old hotel and in some of the condos. Both are very nice. The condos are more comfortable, but there's just something about staying in the old hotel. You have to dress for dinner, coat required (tie not). And there's usually a classical harpist playing next to a beautiful ice sculpture. The food is good and the company convivial. It's a special place.

Stopped by the main club to get a picture of the lawn bowlers. I pulled up by one of the valets, an older black gentleman who looked as if he'd been working there since the 1930s. The very nice man indicated I could park right there in front of the club when I asked if I could park and take a couple of pictures.
I stepped off the bike, grabbing my camera, and said, "Man, you don't see something like this every day." And he said, "Oh yes you do if you come here. They're out there every day."
Yep, it's all about perspective.






This solitary gentleman was practicing up for the next croquet championship.










And then there's the golf course. They have eight of them. But there's only one number two.
I believe this is the 10th hole on Pinehurst No. 2.
I've played the course a couple of times while, the entire time, telling myself that I'm playing one of the Top 10 (!!) courses in the world!





Took Hwy 5 out of Pinehurst rejoining US 1 at Aberdeen. Took US 1 to Rockingham picking up US 74 W there.


Snapped this pic for the NASCAR fans. The famous Rockingham speedway.










Had to divert from US 74 W just east of Marshville (Home of Randy Travis) because a wreck shut down the entire highway. Managed to sneak around on a country road and rejoined the highway about five miles further west. Took US 74 to I-485 bending around Charlotte to I-85 W. Took Exit 92 in South Carolina, SC 11 to the Cowpens National Battlefield.

This is the site of one of the most important battles of the Revolutionary War. The battle, January 17, 1781, in effect threw the British out of South Carolina and, ultimately, led to defeat at Yorktown. The Americans, 970 strong, were led by Gen. Daniel Morgan, while the British were under the command of the much-hated twenty-six-year-old Lt. Col. Banastre Tarleton. Morgan lay a tactical trap for Tarleton utilizing the well-known disposition of militia troops to cut and run. Tarleton bit and was soundly defeated, losing 110 dead, something over 200 wounded, and 500 taken prisoner. This, from a force numbering only 1050.

American losses reported by Morgan were 12 killed, and 60 wounded. Subsequent historians have variously estimated as many as 24 may have been killed.

My connection to this particular historic field/event may be much closer than my others. According to the genealogical book, "The Geigers of South Carolina," one of the Americans killed was a John Murff. His daughter married John Randolf "Randall" Geiger, my great-great-great-grandfather, making John Murff my great-great-great-great grandfather.

I do not know for sure if this is accurate. A book supposedly listing all 970 American patriots at Cowpens does not list a John Murff. Another genealogical tree on Ancester.com reports that John Murff died at Cowpens while another lists him as a revolutionary war soldier in 1781 and 1782. The latter date, of course, after the Battle of Cowpens.

Who knows? I don't. But I'll keep checking.

The day was saved for the Americans when the militia stopped their supposed retreat and turned and fired almost in unison at the attacking Scottish Highlanders. The American cavalry under William Washington, then sprang "seemingly from nowhere" completing the rout of the British forces.

A monument was dedicated by the Washington Light Infantry of Charleston, SC in 1856 to commemorate this famous victory.









The Monument















And Kilroy was there.










Like most, the battlefield just looks like mowed lawns today.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Day 9 - Raleigh, NC

~25 miles

Whenever I got the new rear tire in Asheville the mechanic pointed out that my rear brake pads were about 80% worn. They didn't have any in stock or I would have replaced them there. Decided today would be a good day for that so I found Matison Motorsports just north of Raleigh on Capital Blvd. Very nice, new facility and the service was great. They had both front and back pads in stock so I decided to change both while here. They took me in, made the change in less than an hour and I was back on the road. Thanks, guys. They didn't jump through hoops like the guys in Asheville, but, then, they didn't have to. It was a pretty routine thing and good service. I'm beginning to be concerned. Two good motorcycle dealer reports on one trip? The earth's magnetic poles must be reversing, or something.

After the service, I found a sporting goods store and bought a couple more UnderArmor jerseys for riding. I love these things. They wick sweat right off of you and feel so cool as you ride. The only way to go.

Met up with Lisa, Brian, and the kids and we went "funning."




The lovely Miss Zaine





Went to Frankie's, an electronic game/pinball/race track entertainment establishment, and generated "tickets" for trade-in. Did pretty good.




The wonderfully talented Wil



The high point was the go-cart racing. Wil and I did well, but Brian managed to pass us twice. I think it's something in the air up here that makes NASCAR drivers. Used to be whiskey, but I don't know what it is now.

Afterward, we went to Mickey D's for sandwiches and some playtime in their playroom. Then we took the girls home and the guys went fishing.



The fishin' hole: Falls Lake at sundown


We had a very enjoyable time. First time I've wet a hook in fifteen years. Don't want to brag, but I did catch the first (and biggest) fish. Wil later brought in a whale. Released both to grow some.


Brian and Wil
(Have I mentioned that, though lapping us in the go-carts, Brian failed to catch a fish? Oh well, I won't then.)




Wil and Moby Dick












The lovely mother and PTA President.








What a wonderful time!!! Family fix. It's a good thing.


Tomorrow: South.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Day 8 - Fredericksburg to Raleigh, NC

197.5 miles

Arose early, as usual, but determined to update the blog for yesterday. So, over a cup of coffee and with handy picture editor loaded up, I proceeded to "catch up" to deadline. It's funny, you often don't realize you did so much, or took so many pictures until you go to report your activity. Then you get tired thinking about it. This was like that, it took me over two hours to update for yesterday's activities. Fortunately, the plans for today was to get a grandkid "fix," and that meant only a short ride to Raleigh.


On the side of the road in southern Virginia.

"Hmmm, let's see. Flag waver, no head, no brains, close to Washington. Alberto Gonzales looking for a job, Dick Cheney dove hunting, or George W. trying to find a clue?"





Hit the road around 10:30 a.m. with the intention of visiting Chancellorsville and the Wilderness battlefields. Took the turn, looked at the watch and said, "nope, go get the 'fix.'" Pulled back on I-95 and headed south through Richmond. Took I-85 out of Petersburg to South Hill, then Hwy 58 to Clarksville connecting to Hwy 15 S there. In Bullock I took NC-1342 east to Hwy 39.

The purpose of this route was to pay respects to my Aunt Francis who lived in Townsville for over forty years. She was killed by a driver trying to "make it home before he fell asleep." He didn't, and she paid the price for it. I don't believe there are accidents, or fate; there's only failure to perform, on someone, or somethings, part. Unfortunately, those who pay often have nothing at all to do with the failure to perform.

My Aunt Francis could make a rock grow. Some of my favorite memories in life are sitting around the kitchen table with her, a loaf of bread, a shaker of salt, a bowl filled with home-grown tomatoes, sharp knives, and a couple of big Vidalia onions. We'd sit and eat and talk until I would think I would pop, each bite better than the last. She was the kindest, most gentle, decent person I've ever known. I miss her terribly. But I smile every time the Vidalias "come in" and I can get me some good tomatoes and a loaf of bread. I smile because I think of Aunt Francis. She is to smile for.

Left the cemetery and took Hwy 39 to Henderson, then U.S. 1 south to Raleigh. Finally, I stopped somewhere there's a La Quinta and I can use some of the ga-zillion points I've racked up traveling four days a week for almost nine months. Got a room for a couple of nights at the La Quinta Crabtree in Raleigh. Very nice for a La Quinta, and the price is definitely right.

Had dinner tonight with Wil and Zaine, Lisa and Brian. Wonderful time. Wil just had a birthday and started the fourth grade today. He is one belt away from a black belt in Tai-Kwon-Do and Zaine will start kindergarten and Tai-Kwon-Do next week...and, like her mother, is a femme fatale, drama-queen. Aint' life great? What goes 'round, come 'round. I must be in Lake Wobegon, the woman is strong, the men good-looking, and the children way, way above average. This is good.




Zaine, Lisa, and Wil...my "fix"













Biker Babe









Looking forward to some more of this tomorrow.

Decided on the ride down today I'm going to continue south to Florida to spend a day or so with my mother. With the appropriate amount of luck and logistics, I hope to make it to the guitar-pickin' Friday night with brother Ron and gang. This, too, is a good thing.

Day 7 - Gettysburg to Fredericksburg, VA

152 Miles

Woke up the rooster a little early this morning and pulled onto the battlefield.

I wanted a picture from Longstreet's perspective on that fateful morning when he sent Pickett, Pettigrew, and Trimble up that terrible, empty slope. Heavy thunderstorms rolled through Gettysburg last night leaving the air heavy with water and a light mist lay over the field, much, I imagine, as it was on the morning of July 3, 1863.

Like the troops in the trenches of Flanders in WWI, as I've said before, I understand every step they took...except the first one. I don't know how these men take the first step.

I earlier mentioned "connections" to historic people and/or places. I have a special connection to Gettysburg. My grandfather died in 1921 leaving my grandmother and four children, my father being the oldest. Without belaboring the point too much, it is accurate to say that my father and the truth were passing acquaintances, at best. His version of the story was that after my grandfather died some lawyers (it's always lawyers, isn't it?) cheated his mother out of their land on the St. Johns River just outside Geneva, Florida, causing her to lose her mind and, eventually, be committed to the Florida State Hospital for the Insane in Chattahoochee. The impression given by my father was, at the time of his mother's commitment, he was too young to take care of his brothers and sister, but too old to accompany them into the state orphanage in Enterprise (across Lake Monroe from Sanford).

My research indicates the truth was somewhat different. After her husband died my grandmother sold the property and bought property in Sanford from a man named Mr. Lord. Mr. Lord, a wealthy and well-respected citrus farmer of the area, was a lifetime diarist. His daughter or granddaughter edited his diary after his death and placed a copy with the Seminole County Historical Society. Her edits were clarifying in nature, explaining obscure events or people who wouldn't be known to the casual reader. His diary entries relating to my grandmother read as follows: (Mrs. Geiger is my grandmother)

"Mar 29, 1926 - Rainey cold day. Mrs. Geiger lost her mind. Gus & Fannie called a few minutes this P.M.
Mar 30, 1926 - Nice warm pleasant day. Jennie & I went to see Mrs. Geiger. She is some better this P.M. Minton is tractoring for someone near the cemetery.
April 1st - Lovely cool day, Mrs. Geiger is worse today. Minton & Fannie took her for a ride in my car. I wrote Lillie a 4-page letter.
April 2nd - Rainey cool day. Rob sit with us till 9:30PM Minnie & Mrs. Toler came out this A.M. for water. Minton Lord arranged with Bro. Austin to take the 3 Geiger children to the orphanage at Enterprise.
Apr. 7th - Jennie & Frannie went to Sanford & sold 10 doz. eggs $4.20. She rented one of our rooms to Mr. Hanson at $6.00 per week. Mrs. Geiger was sent to the insane asylum.
Apr 8th - Minton took Mrs. Geiger's 3 youngest children to the Methodist Orphanage. Fannie, Rosa & Jennie went with him. Rainey day. They returned at 3:30."

This information indicates my father was 17 1/2 years old when his mother was committed and his siblings placed into the orphanage. I suspect his story was to deflect any criticism for an almost grown man allowing his younger siblings to be placed into an orphanage, an understandable motive.  I am not about to second-guess why he didn't try to keep them himself.  That would have been an awesome responsibility and very difficult at best.  The fact that Mr. Lord and his family remained friends with my father for decades after indicate to me they felt the same way.

The connection to Gettysburg? Mr. Lord was wounded on the second day of battle at Gettysburg. His diary is very matter-of-fact about it, reporting his injury and the fact that he laid on the field for several days before being properly treated.


Rode off down the Emmitsburg Highway (Hwy 15) south, to Hwy 77 W alongside the Catoctin Mountain Park. This is a nice ride through dense foliage. Early in the morning, everything was quiet, little traffic at all. Just good riding.

Took Hwy 64 S just short of Hagerstown, joining Hwy 66 to Boonsboro. At Boonsboro took Hwy 34 to Sharpsburg and the Antietam National Battle Field.

Monument to John Bell Hood's Texans at "The Cornfield." (One of only four confederate memorials on the battlefield.)

The Texans suffered over 82% casualties sealing a gap in the Confederate lines on September 17th. This was the highest casualty rate sustained by any troops at any time during the Civil War.

Prior to this battle, the Texans had seen considerable combat and their flag was quite tattered. Several ladies in Richmond, among them President Davis' wife, Varina, determined to replace the battered banner. All white cloth having been appropriated for bandages, the ladies used their wedding dresses to replace the Divisional flag for the Texans.

During the stand in the cornfield the flag was carried by thirteen (13) separate bearers, each, in turn, mowed down by the whithering fire. The last, and final, bearer fell to the ground with the flag beneath him.

Captured regimental and divisional flags were significant military accomplishments and often used to demonstrate success in battle. Two to three days after the battle the flag was returned by Union soldiers to the Texans under a flag of truce. To return such a flag without counting it as captured speaks volumes about the stand in the cornfield that day.


The "Cornfield" today.









September 17th, 1862 is the bloodiest day in U.S. history.
Union casualties were 12,401 with 2,108 dead (25% of the Federal force). Confederate casualties were 10,318 with 1,546 dead (31% of the Confederate force).

A great many of them fell here at the 'Sunken Road.'






The famous Burnside's Bridge at Antietam. Between 400-500 Georgia troops held off Burnside's division for five hours as they made attempt after attempt to cross.

This view from the Georgian rifle pits.












The other perspective, looking up toward those rifle pits.





A federal cannon pointed towards the Georgia defenders. I suspect the cannons weren't this close during the battle. If they were, I would think the Georgia sharpshooters would have made life awful difficult (and short) for them.



Left Antietam still on Hwy 34 taking Hwy 230 at Shepherdstown, joining to U.S. 340 and on to Harper's Ferry.


St. Peter's Catholic Church in Harper's Ferry












Old bridge foundations across the Shenandoah.















The old firehouse where John Brown was incarcerated.










Left Harper's Ferry on Hwy 340 through Charles Town, WV and south through Boyce, VA to US 17-50. Took US17 S through Warrenton and into Fredericksburg. Met friends Claye and Sylvia at their home where they kindly invited me to stay the night instead of doing the motel thing. A very welcome respite from the road.

After a nice visit and a hearty, if not healthy meal, we toured the Fredericksburg battlefield.


View of Marye's Heights.
Federals attacked up the hill (yet again) and paid the price for it.











The Innis House, site of horrific fighting.













Bullet holes in the interior wall. (Photographed through a window)
















The "ghosts" of Fredericksburg.

Trying to capture a picture of a battlefield painting I inadvertently caught some of the ghosts of the battlefield. Specifically, from the left Sylvia, me, and Claye.

And, no, that's not my gut, it's the smoke of a firing cannon in the picture.








Sylvia and Claye made for a great evening of conversation, friendship and courtesy.

Claye is Fleeter of motorcycle touring fame. Qualified, but not yet certified Iron Butt rider extraordinaire.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Day 6 - Roanoke, VA to Gettysburg

265 Miles

Wanting to have as much time as possible at Gettysburg today I elected to stay on the interstate (I-81N). Pulled out of Roanoke at 7:00 a.m. after watching a police show in the parking lot of my motel. There were at least four cruisers stacked in the lot behind my bike when I made my first trip out to begin packing up for the day. Never did figure out what was going on, but they were field analyzing something in little baggies on the back of one of their cars. I saw no one in custody, or anyone other than policemen, but it looked drug-related to me. That many cops and no overturned doughnut truck? Had to be a drug bust.

(Click on picture to enlarge)

Zipped up I-81 to Lexington. Pulled off to find VMI (Virginia Military Institute). Ol' Stonewall Jackson himself taught here. I'm told his horse, Old Sorrell, is stuffed and on display, but, hey, you've seen one stuffed horse, you've them all. Besides, who's to say it's really his horse. Could be Flicka for all I know. Consequently, I didn't spend any of my precious time looking for a stuffed horse.




I parked the bike (illegally), grabbed my little camera, and went to take some pictures of VMI. Worked out great, I had barely got off the bike and I heard someone calling cadences. Once you're a military guy, you'll never doubt what you are hearing when you hear someone marching troops. I looked toward the sound and, sure enough, down the street coming right at me was a formation heading for Saturday morning chow. How do I know? I told you, there are just some things you know if you've ever been in the military. Got a kick out of the stragglers who followed along a couple of minutes later. You always have those guys, too.

One of the truly great Americans, George C. Marshall, graduated from VMI in 1901. I've always been amazed at the "connections" to history each of us can feel. As a child, I remember Marshall as Secretary of State and, of course, the Marshall Plan. He was truly an honorable, gifted, and historic figure. Born in 1880 only fifteen years after the civil war ended, and sixteen years after VMI cadets fought in the Battle of New Market, he, somehow, "connects" me to VMI. Don't know why, but I've always been interested in the institution and its alumni. It's good to see the present-day troops marching to chow on Saturday morning and knowing some traditions continue on.

Got back on I-81 and lit a shuck for Gettysburg, exiting Hwy 16 to Waynesboro, then turning north on Hwy 15 at Emmitsburg, imagining myself, naturally, as one of A. P. Hill's confederate troops headed into Gettysburg looking for shoes. I didn't find any though I'm sure there's a store here somewhere selling "Gettysburg Memorial Shoes," every damn thing else is sold. It is absolutely embarrassing to me as a U.S. citizen that my government would allow such unabridged, flagrant capitalism to usurp a site such as this. There are motels and hotels, farms, hamburger stands, ice cream parlors everywhere one looks, many now on battlefield ground. Admittedly it's a fairly large battlefield, but it should be, a momentous battle took place here. This national site is a travesty.

Note: In reality, it was Buford's Union Cavalry who rode down Emmitsburg road and occupied and held the high ground for the Union. Hill's Corp came down the Cashtown road, but as a child of the south, I just couldn't imagine myself in that group, though the Union victory is more the result of Buford's eye for "ground" than probably any other factor.  And, by the way, thanks for that victory, it's difficult to think of any benefit that would be accrued to a Lee victory that day.



First stop, the National Cemetery where Lincoln gave the Gettysburg Address. This monument now sits on the site where he spoke from a wooden platform.













Detail on the above statue.

Thanks to Stephen Ambrose we now have a WWII museum and site, but nothing like those guys deserved. And they deserved as much as these folks. I guess the fact that it happened "over there" places them, somehow, beyond our grasp or mention?

Oh, and, I guess, we only build to winners and we haven't had a winner since WWII.




The Devil's Den.















Little Round Top from Devil's Den area.














Another of Little Round Top from the Devil's Den









Little Round Top - July 6, 1863










Little Round Top looking down into the Devil's Den.













From Little Round Top looking down into the Valley of Death.





Betsy-the-Kaw just before assaulting Little Round Top with the Texas Brigade.







Site of Pickett's famous charge viewed from the stone fence of the Federal line.

It is 3/4 mile back to the trees from which the Confederate forces marched. I understand every step they took...except the first one. I don't think I could have made the first one.




Site of the potential second Battle of Gettysburg

This is a monument to all the Federal Artillery troops who took part in the battle.

I was trying to take this picture when this guy walked directly in front of me. He didn't say a word, just walked right in front of me. Then his son, about 13 or 14 proceeded to walk in front of me as I again refocused on the statue.

The father then directed his son to sit down on the block of granite on the right side of the statue, with me still standing there trying to take a picture. You would think that a man my size wouldn't be invisible, but, apparently, I was.

I put my camera down and walked over and explained to him that they were "T.O.O.P.s" When he asked what that was I told him it was someone who thought they were The Only One On Planet and it wasn't a very good example to set for his boy growing up. For a moment I thought we were going to get the second Battle of Gettysburg. Fortunately, we (I) didn't.

Tomorrow: Antietam and Harper's Ferry. Then I'm going to try to work my way around toward Fredricksburg and the Wilderness. Hopefully, somewhere along there I can catch up with Claye and Fleeter.

We'll see.