Buff Your Old Gut with Beige Fat While Cutting Your Food for the Germiest Places in Food Scrounge News

It’s been a while, but Food Scrounge News never sleeps.  Cutting through the motel internet access jungle slows blog posting.  Click the Food Scrounge News tab for food science and nonsense.

70 mph bike wash

70 mph bike wash

Home at Last, Home at Last, Thank the Lord I’m Home at Last

I made it home in one piece, though “rode hard and hung up wet” is appropriate.  We left Spartanburg Friday for LA & MS in the rain.  My friends took a different route home.  I bore down I-85 to I-20 past Atlanta.  The rain alternated drizzle to deluge.  My bike quit in a deluge about 50 miles from Atlanta.  Nothing to do but coast to the side of the road.  I fiddled with the controls and wiring.  The Triumph would crank but not fire.  A trucker stopped briefly and tried to fix it.  He agreed the bike wasn’t getting spark.  A few phone calls to AAA (have you ever tried to have a phone conversation with trucks going past 10 feet away at 70+ mph?) and the tow truck was en route.  Arrival time was “a few minutes”, AKA 120+ minutes.  A young man on a Triumph Thruxton stopped to assist just before the tow truck arrived.  There ain’t many of us, but we do stick together!  He checked out the bike and confirmed no spark.  The tow truck driver suggested we try one more thing before loading the Scrambler on the trailer.  He sprayed starter fluid into the breather hose/air box.  I hit the starter switch.  It fired!!  A few more squirts and the bike was rarin’ to go.  Rain water had gotten into the air system, interfering with ignition.  Ater spending three hours on a rain soaked shoulder I was ready to leave GA behind.  Mr. Doug (Thruxton) rode with me into the Atlanta metro area and made sure I was OK.

Triumph Thruxton road angel

I rode for another 120 miles before stopping.  By that time my brain was fried, so I decided to stop for the night and make the final push home Saturday.  The next day began sunny but dark clouds formed past Birmingham.  It was back into the drizzle/downpour scenario from Tuscaloosa to home.  Though I bought a can of starter fluid that morning, at times I had to pull over because it was difficult to see the road.

Sharing I-20/59 underpass with an H-D rider

I-20/59 underpass visibility break.  Note crap on shoulder.I-20/59 underpass break.  Note crap on shoulder.

A wet welcome

All ended well.  Mr. Mike, the scrounge cats and I had a happy reunion.  Thanks to all who helped me along the way.  I’ll end today’s post with photos of the group (312 Motor Maids from US and Canada) and banquet.  More photos next time.

72nd annual convention. Spartanburg SC

MM banquet and awards


Carolina Q – Vinegar, Smoke, and Coleslaw

Scenic rides and a BBQ at the H-D dealer.  Later we had music and drinks at the hotel.  Those old ladies can really shake it up!


More parking in the back

How do you like your Q?

AR LA MS Maids

Carolina on My Mind

Over 400 women on bikes have converged on Spartanburg. Most are riding Harleys, though I have seen a few BMWs. 


Arrive in Spartanburg

Arrive in Spartanburg

It was  about 570 miles from our house.

Ready to go

Ready to go

Ready to hit the road. Meridian, MS H-D dealer. Mr. Mike’s bike visible on right.

I had a few technical issues or there would be several other posts – using motel internet connections seem to complicate things, especially for the technically challenged.  Left Saturday, arrived Sunday.

My ridin’ buddies

On the Road Again

Tommorow I begin my ride to Spartanburg, SC for the annual Motor Maids convention.  I’ll be packin’ digital devices so road news (and food) should be posted all next week.

Loaded and ready

The last trip I had a bear encounter and some things that didn’t go as planned.  We made an unexpected stop at a town just after I saw the bear.  The car behind me pulled alongside and pointed to my bike’s rear – something was loose.  Well, it was loose alright, and smoking.  A bag on my luggage rack had vibrated loose and had been dragging behind the bike for several miles.  Must have been quite a sight to behold.  We stop at a “picnic area” in Heavener, OK.  Two rows of clean picnic tables with a good view of the cop parked in the bank drive-through waiting to pounce on speeders (30+mph).


Roadside repair?The bag is laying on the ground.

Mr. Mike performs autopsy

He could barely get the bag open because the zipper had fused shut.  There was a good view of my sleeping bag and pad innards though.  Yellow foam with blackened edges.  Nothing to do now but let it go.  But there was not a trash can in sight.  Dirty Harry had just returned from chasing down some poor soul and had retaken his place in the bank drive-through lane.  What to do?

Burial at sea. Well, it will get there eventually.

We weren’t about to leave the remains on a picnic table.  Just the excuse for Dirty Harry to throw the book at us. Littering!  And maybe disturbing the peace if I told him what I thought of their picnic area.  Nothing more to do but get back on the road and get the hell out of town.  This next trip should have more secure luggage.  But something unexpected is sure to happen – check back for road scrounges!


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