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.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Day 5 - Asheville, NC to Roanoke, VA

243 Miles

Got the call about the bike at 10:30 a.m. They were able to weld the exhaust breaks and it was ready to go. Me too!

The dealership sent a guy to the hotel to pick me up (I'm telling you this is a company that can spell Customer Service!!) and I settled up, very reasonable for the efforts expended, and I pulled out about 11:30 a.m. Not without leaving Eric some beer funds for him and his boys for after work today. They earned it! And I hope they enjoyed it. Thanks, Guys! You make every other motorcycle dealer I've dealt with, save one, look like the pikers they are. There's a Kawasaki dealer in Missoula, MT that provided me excellent service once out there. But even they weren't as impressive as the folks at MR Motorcycle in Asheville, NC. If you're in the area, give 'em some business. They'll earn it!!

Jumped back on the BRP (Blue Ridge Parkway) off Hwy 25 about 10 blocks south of the dealership. This is a nice ride. It's a 469-mile two-lane road built across the tops of the mountains connecting the Great Smoky Mountains and Shenandoah National Parks. Lots of twists and turns, beautiful tree-laden road, tunnels, everything a biker could ask for...except the 45 mph speed limit. I had a few crotch-rockets go by me testing that theory, but, on the whole, most, including me, held it around 50-55 max. In many cases, the road contributed to that speed. I would have liked to have run the entire distance but having lost so much time being sick and with bike repairs, over the last two days, I felt I needed to put some asphalt underneath me.




Many tunnels through the mountains.
(Click on picture to enlarge)














And out again, jiggity-jig








I jumped off of the BRP to get gas in Marion, NC. When I say "jumped off" that's pretty accurate. I took Hwy 80 off the BRP. Now, this is a ride!!! Fifteen miles and drops like a rock from the mountain tops down into a valley. Many, many twists and turns, with many, many very sharp turns bringing you down to second gear and testing the brakes. It's a ride worth the taking.

Gassed up the bike and myself in Marion. Had lunch at The Siena Restaurant. Very good lunch and a lovely waitress who was as nice as she was pretty. Now...I always look, and I rarely comment, but this young lady is absolutely one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen. Sort of a Grace Kelly wholesomeness with brown instead of blond hair. And, as I said, very nice personality. Hollywood, you should check this out. You need to do something about this Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton thing you've got going. This would be a welcome change. Class with looks and charm? Heaven forbid in today's culture.

Took Hwy 221 out of Marion rejoining the BRP at Linville Falls exiting on Hwy 321 to Boone. From Boone took Hwy 421 to Mountain City, then Hwy 91 through Damascus to I-81 just outside Glade Spring. Again, wanting to make some time I rode the I-state. Wasn't a bad ride. Hit some rain but it wasn't very heavy and just cooled things, and me, down. All in all, a very nice ride.

Pulled into Roanoke about 6:00 p.m. and called my friend Claye who, it appears is about to changes horses. She reported she was headed up to Maryland to look at a new BMW. But, then, there was a demo, slightly different color, not quite the color gray she wanted, for $2K less, and then there was a 2006 with only 3000 miles on it for yet another $2K less...decisions, decisions. We agreed to talk tomorrow night and, perhaps, ride together on Sunday. I suspect she won't be on her old bike then. And, I also suspect the new bike will be renamed Fleeter.




Now, one more time, why are they called the Smokies?










Tomorrow: Riding to Gettysburg.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Day 4 - Murphy, NC to Asheville +

156 Miles Believe in the bell Left Murphy around 8:00 a.m. taking US 64 East. This route is a meandering country two-lane highway with a river bounding the right for many miles, yielding to national forest land. A nice ride, but....   The but is for quite some time I've been hearing "chatter" whenever I leaned the bike left or right. Many will probably recognize that for what it is, but it was new to me. In addition to the sound, the bike just didn't seem to ride as well. Pulled into Asheville about 12:30 p.m. and found a Kawasaki dealer on Hendersonville road. The dealer is Mr. Motorcycle and I can't say enough about how well I've been treated. But first...the diagnosis: scalloped tire. Evidently, if you do a lot of righting and lefting while leaning you'll create a wear pattern that creates a ridge on the side of the tire. After a while, the thing starts whining whenever you lean into it. This is what I heard. I hated it, and it was getting worse and worse. Additionally, the tire was just about at the replacement point, so...we replaced it. Unfortunately, this is the busy time of the year for all dealers, and Eric R. the serviceman I talked with said he'd work me in some way. So, I sat in the waiting room until about 2:30 p.m. They did replace the tire and I was ready to go. Oh, and Eric changed the oil for me while I was there, something I'd planned to do in another 500-600 miles anyway. I can't say enough about how cooperative the entire place was. Anyone who knows bikes knows finding a decent dealer is like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. They are that rare. Unfortunately, this wasn't going to be Eric's last opportunity to help me out. Left the dealership about 3:00 and, after getting a sandwich and gassing up, I got on the Blue Ridge Parkway. After only a few minutes into the trip, I started hearing exhaust leaking. Sounded just like a blown exhaust gasket on a flathead Ford engine. It continued to get worse and, after running through a nice, cooling-down rainstorm, I stopped at the first Park Service stop about eighteen miles from Asheville. There I checked the bolt tightness on the exhaust ports but found nothing wrong. I then realized I needed to get it into a shop. After checking with the Ranger I determined Asheville was closest and, despite not wanting to try Eric's customer service skills overly much, I returned to Asheville and MR Motorcycle. After looking at the bike Eric and the mechanic found a large slit on the inside of one of the pipes up near the connecting flange. It looks like a slit you'd get in metal if you "crimped" it then worked it back and forth until it broke at the bend seam. I can't for the life of me figure out how such a slit got into the pipe. But it's there. By this time it's almost 6:00 p.m. and the shop is closing. Eric is going to attempt to weld a bead on the slit tomorrow to see if that will hold. Let's hope so. If not I'll probably be stuck here in Asheville for a couple more days waiting on the new pipes from V&H. Not good! On a good note, Eric had one of his guys take me down to I-40 where I was able to find a room. Tomorrow I'll call and get the news. Here's hoping! The bell? For the non-riders, whenever you first start riding someone will (should) give you a small "tinkle" bell to hang somewhere on your bike. Legend has it that this will bring good fortune and free you from mechanical difficulties. My bell was given to me by the instructor at my Motorcycle Safety Foundation class when I took the course to get my motorcycle license endorsement. I was fortunate enough to ace the test and he presented me with the bell. Since that time I have always had it on the bike and, as you know, it went with me to Alaska last year, and to Montana in July...all without any nagging mechanical problems attributable to "bad" luck. Well, as life would have it, the bell finally gave up the ghost shortly after I returned from Montana. I have been meaning to replace it, but haven't. And now this. Believe in the bell

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Day 3 - Chattanooga to Murphy, NC

Approx. 125 Miles

Actually slept in for a change, knowing the sights wouldn't be opening until at least 9:00 a.m. Got up, had a leisurely breakfast, and rode up Lookout Mountain. Nice little ride. Once at the top you start to get a real appreciation for those who had to fight their way up it. Not this cowboy! I got worn out walking the steps back up from the Och's Memorial Observatory (the "rock" where all the pictures of the Union troops were taken).

My first observation riding up was that the Union troops may have gone, but the capitalists were still there in droves. Many, many nice houses with great views. Did manage to slip up a very steep roadway that said "No vehicles over 13' 6" long allowed." (No rider worth his salt is going to pass up a road with a sign like that.) It was steep and windy but turned into pea gravel quickly enough to turn me around. Views weren't that pretty and the housing was redneck provincial. No reason to ride pea gravel.




Went to Point Park and walked the site.

(Tennessee River from Lookout Mountain)


Note: Click on any picture to enlarge










Good field of fire. It didn't have to go too far to just fall on something.










The target: Chattanooga, TN














View looking west down the Lookout Valley










Pulled off of Lookout Mountain just as Bragg's CSA troops did, retreating south. Took Hwy 17 to Hwy 193, then Hwy 2 to Fort Oglethorpe and the Chickamauga battlefield visitor center. Nicely done center; evidently the first U.S. battlefield memorial, even before Gettysburg. Unfortunately, it was so damned hot by this time that I decided to forgo much of the battlefield, limiting myself to a visit to Snodgrass Hill.

I am a huge Ambrose Bierce fan. For any who do not know him, he is worth the reading and the study...if for no other reason than you have a sense of humor. I defy anyone to read his "Devil's Dictionary" without laughing uproariously and out loud. He is also the subject of a very bad Jane Fonda-Gregory Peck movie, 'The Old Gringo.' But all that notwithstanding, he was also one of the best American writers, the equal of Mark Twain, Stephen Crane, et al, and, unlike Crane and his contemporaries, actually saw real battle during the Civil War. He was with Hazen's Brigade at Chickamauga and witnessed the route that ensued when Longstreet's Corp. (CSA) attacked at the very place that Rosecrans mistakenly withdrew his center. This led to Rosecrans "retiring from the field" while his chief-of-staff, future president James Garfield returned to inform Gen. George Thomas (The Rock of Chickamauga) of Rosecrans's "departure."
(Bierce's remembrances of the day can be found at http://www.online-literature.com/bierce/768/. I love his shot at President Garfield's "heroism" for going to Thomas.)

Thomas' famous stand took place on Snodgrass Hill.




Doesn't look like all that much now, but it had to be a pure inferno that day.











While big fields capture the imagination, there were few of them, and most of the fighting was through pine forests.






Once you came out of the forest you were met with these guys.

(Note: a Canon-eye view of a cannon-eye view...hehe)



The Snodgrass family homestead was a field hospital for both sides.

According to the information on the site, Mr. Snodgrass lived here with his wife and nine kids. Hard to believe eleven people could live in this.



(Wonder if this was The Hag's inspiration for Working Man Blues? "It's a big job just gettin' by with nine kids and a wife, I been a-workin' man dang near all my life...")



Left the battlefield on Hwy 2 East. Managed a little ten or so mile detour down Hwy 201 (missed a turn) before realizing I was lost and, after talking with a very nice Deputy Sheriff at 201-I75, found my way back on track on 2 East to Cisco. From there I took US 411 north to US 64/74 East (again).

Hwy 2 East takes you through the Ringgold Gap and is a nice country ride. A few twists and turn and, once out of Ringgold, a pretty ride. US 411 is the same, two-lane country highway with little traffic allowing for a pretty good time. I didn't want time as much as I didn't want Interstate, so it was fine by me. Turned east on US 64/74 stopping in Murphy, NC for the evening around 5:00 p.m. Total miles from Chattanooga via I-state: 92. My route: ~ 125. My route was better.

The Ocoee River, Hwy 64/74 East





















A TVA dam on the Ocoee River, Hwy 64/74 East











A road sign on US 64/74 East just east of Ocoee Lake. We like these signs. A lot!












'Betsy-the-Kaw' now proud veteran of Chickamauga.