Pure joy this morning as I stopped at a cafe in Asheville for coffee then rode out of town under beautiful skies and the mountains all around, listening to some John Denver for good measure. For me, this is about as good as it gets. These mountains have always felt like home to me.
Hearing the Harley Davidson’s deep rumble through the canyons sounded good and I finally got a chance to ride on the sides of my tires as I negotiated the twists and turns of the Great Smoky Mountain Thruway. So happy with the bike so far (thanks Bob Gilkenson).
I couldn’t resist the motorcycle museum I stumbled across. Spent an hour there and just barely scratched the surface.
I rolled into Nashville TN just as the tornado sirens were sounding and debris was blowing through the streets. I pulled up to the hotel valet and shouted that I needed to get parked immediately and he said he “wasn’t authorized to ride a motorbike.” (like that was gonna happen). So he ran to the garage and I followed him and we got inside just as the rain started pouring.
