January 5, 2010
Georgia Trip Report

By Laurie Sherfey

NOTE: I wrote this shortly after returning from Georgia, but never wrapped it up and got some matching pictures together to send to Phil. Sorry it's so late, but perhaps it might be better to read now, while the temperatures are sub-zero, and good riding days are still some time away. I'll try to finish up the rest of this story in the next week or so. So, turning the clock back to October:

The real trip began at 5:30 AM, Saturday, October 3rd, though preparations had been going on the entire week leading up to the big day. Everything was sorted, packed, planned, and checked off the list. It felt a little like Christmas morning, waking up before the sun was up, all excited. I quickly and quietly got ready, put the last few things in the scooter's glove box, said goodbye to my still mostly asleep husband and daughter, and eagerly backed the scooter out of the garage. I slid quickly into the seat, pulled on the last of my riding gear, slid the key into the ignition, and prepared for takeoff.

Except nothing happened when the key turned, beyond a soft click that told me there was nothing at all wrong with my ignition. Why is it when a vehicle doesn't start, we always try over again, hoping for a different outcome on the second attempt; or maybe the third, fourth, or fifth?!?

So I sat for a second after my useless attempts, remembering it started fine just a few days before - AND EVERY OTHER TIME I EVER TURNED THAT KEY. Lesson learned - always test start your ride the day before a big trip - even if it is the most reliable piece of machinery you have ever owned. Thing is, it had its original battery, which was 3 years old, and it does sit idle in the garage for way too long sometimes. It was all my own darn fault.

However, I'm a born problem solver, right? No tire kicking or swearing occurred. I unpacked enough of the stuff so carefully arranged on the scooter to take out the battery. I wondered when the nearest Wal-Mart opened, and if they'd have the right size of trickle charger.

I told my husband about "the situation", but he didn't wake up enough to understand. Turns out the store opens at 6 AM, and I only had to wait few minutes to get in, and in a few more found out they had quite a selection of chargers, most of which had the proper settings for a motorcycle battery. Soon I was home, got it hooked up, and wondered if it would work, and how long it would take.

I had a proper breakfast, read the paper, and watched the percentage climb slowly. Thing is, by 8:30 it got to 61%, and seemed stuck there. So at 9; I called the Honda dealership when they opened, and they said if it really got down low I would need to crank up the charger setting to get it to charge back up. Good old Dave assured me the warnings of impending doom and destruction in the charger manual were overstating the risks involved just a bit. However, by 9:30, there was still no change, and another quick call to their parts department confirmed they had a battery in the proper size just waiting for me to come on down and plunk my money down. By 10 AM I had the new battery in (and all without calling Phil!!!!!), and I even got a discount for having my motorcycle safety course completion card. It seemed like a safer bet to set off on a trip with a battery I knew would work, anyway, and now I do have the trickle charger to keep the new battery charged up.

So, at 10:10 I finally set out, a bit frazzled, but still just as excited. The traffic gave me a break, even though it was much later, and I got through the Midtown tunnel and headed toward Emporia with no delays.

The plan was to get on Route 58, then head south on 85, and ride till it joined with 40, and then on to Hickory, where I had reservations for the night. Even though I was leaving many hours late, I was confident I could easily make it that far in one day. I've done the trip from Durham, I know it's not that much farther.

In fact, I didn't stop much all day, the riding was easy, and the weather perfect. I got gas outside of Emporia, and didn't stop again till I was almost to Durham. I had a little picnic at a rest stop, and was pleased to find that though people usually don't talk to strangers at a rest stop, they totally do talk to a scruffy-looking scooter woman.

I talked to a historical interpreter from Wilmington, NC, and an elderly couple heading to visit his brother in Atlanta, and several nice people walking their dogs (who all liked me, too). When I got back on the road, I was refreshed and heartened by all the friendliness!

From here on, the ride was less relaxing, as the traffic was much heavier. The scooter hummed right along with the best of them, though; and I was pleased with how comfortable it still felt, even after hours and hours of riding.

The rest of the ride was quite uneventful, except for the surprising number of cars out on the road, and few short delays for some road construction. Some people in a Smart Car waved gleefully at me as I passed them, and it seemed to me that my scooter was way larger than the Smart Car! I waved back, since we were both kind of brave to be out there on the raceway.

I don't remember much of that stretch now - stopped for gas, had some more snacks, and the sun was in my eyes too much as the afternoon wore on. I decided to stop for dinner when the sun got low in the sky, and became painful. By the time I'd eaten and talked to several more friendly strangers, it was below the trees, and I knew I didn't have too much farther to go.

It was just getting dark when I got to Hickory, and found my hotel. I felt like a seasoned pro as I quickly unpacked the bike, and felt great after a shower. I knew I'd sleep well, too!

Since the day before had gotten a little out of whack, I didn't rush to get out on the road the next day - enjoyed the hotel's good continental breakfast, and just relaxed a bit till the sun was up and warm.

The air definitely had a nip in it, and as I packed the scooter, I made sure some other warm layers would be easy to get to. I didn't think I had nearly as long to ride as the day before, and most of it would be more scenic, as I approached Asheville, and then swung south toward Georgia.

I was soon back on Route 40, humming toward Asheville. By the time I got close to Asheville, the climb in elevation resulted in a steep plunge in the temperature, and I stopped to add a layer or two, especially snuggling fleece around my neck and to seal up the bottom of my helmet. I rode on in comfort, feeling almost cozy.

Around Asheville I spotted some hot air balloons out in the chill morning. Unfortunately, though I had my camera, there was nowhere to stop and take a picture. By the time I got off the highway to head down into Nantahala National Forest, they were no longer in sight.

The road into the park was a perfect transition from highway riding to the riding I was looking forward to for the coming week. The roads were wide, there was no traffic, and the curves were not too severe for a flatlander like me. The scooter and I started to work together after the first couple of curves, and the ride turned into a lot of fun! The scenery was beautiful, with the beginnings of fall color.

I guess I was having way too good a time, and when studying the map that morning, I figured the road I was on would take me directly to Route 5, which went directly to my destination - Canton, Georgia. However, it didn't.

I was having so much fun, I didn't notice. I also didn't notice when I crossed the border into Tennessee (which wasn't on this trip itinerary). I did notice the park changed to Cherokee National Forest, but didn't make too much of it.

After riding a while, I realized I was heading more west and north than west and south, and started to wonder just a little. A little further on, I started to ride alongside a lovely river, full of kayakers and rafters, and then rode by the site for the river events for the 1996 Olympic Games.

At this point, I knew I was off course, but decided to ride on till I found a place where I could get a cold drink, and have another picnic. That turned out to be quite way farther down the road.

When I stopped at a little mini-market, I topped off the tank, and went inside to get a soda and some directions. When I told the nice lady where I was going, she looked at me like I was an alien from the planet Zorgon, and in a perfect Tennessee accent told me, "Honey, you can't get there from here!" When she failed to persuade me that this was really true, she and another clerk tried to figure out a way for me to backtrack.

I probably should have left after her first statement, and found a more likely person to help. She gave terrible directions that turned out to be way wrong. Still, it is pretty funny now. I headed back the way I came - I knew I didn't need to cut through Tennessee to get to Canton! Eventually, over an hour later, I was heading more to the south, on the road she told me to take, and which they assure me tied right into Route 5.

It didn't. I eventually ended up in a lovely town called Blairesville, and after pulling out the map, realized I was definitely taking the scenic route that day! Apparently, there is a Cleveland, Tennessee, as well a Cleveland, Georgia. Though I did not actually go to both of these places that particular day, I think I got very close to each of them, and I wasn't supposed to; not going to Canton.

Anyway, as I wandered around Blairesville, I finally found a new road that cut due west, and which was only a dotted line on my old map - but it went directly to Route 5. I took it, and it was a good, fast road.

As I zoomed up the ramp accelerating, another Honda quirk popped up - my "V-Matic" indicator light went on. I didn't even know exactly what the heck the "V-Matic" was - but having indicator lights go on is not usually a good thing. I would come to learn quite a bit about this whole V-Matic thing, but never quite enough.

When I could safely stop, I dug out the manual, and figured out how to reset it. I would go about 20 miles or so, and it would come on again. I had it come on once during the summer, and didn't think it was something where you towed the bike into the dealer. So I kept on riding.

The day was getting on, I was going to be late getting to my brother's, and I knew if I got there, he would have some ideas about what to do about the light.

I got to Route 5 (with great relief), and headed south as it started to rain a little, on and off. Since my map was printed, apparently this had become a main road down to Atlanta. My gas tank was almost on empty, and I figured out I somehow lost my Google map directions to my brother's house at the hotel. When I got to what I thought might be the right exit, I got off the main road, and pulled into a gas station, and called home to get my brother's phone number (again), and to wait out a cloudburst under the shelter.

When I called my brother, it turned out it was the right exit, and I was just a few minutes from his house! As the rain let up, I pulled out to ride the last couple of miles, and got there with no problems.

So far, 750 miles ridden in two days, and now I knew how to pull the scooter's battery (and install a new one), and reset the V-Matic light! It sure felt good to be at Erik and Renee's house, and hang up my gear and relax. We had a big week ahead of us! My scooter looked happy, too; parked in the garage with the two BMW's and Shorty (the Honda Helix).

And with that, I think I'd better end this story for now! I still have the riding in North Georgia, our "garage parties", and the trip home on the Blue Ridge Parkway to write about!

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