FRIENDS 2011
 
 

Day 05

April 11

 
  Today we head for the other place that Les has on his radar - Deal's Gap, also known as 'the Dragon'. Ladybug, our backyard dog, has about got Les wrapped around her little paw as he has been faithful to bring her leftover biscuits from our various eating adventures. She is quite the charmer and he is not her first rodeo.  
   
  Naturally, we are not going in the most direct route as I feel the need to expose my Scottish friend to some more culture. As we leave the Holler, I feel a little bit sorry for those folks headed the other way to work. But I know the feeling, as I still work a full time job since I'm fond of sleeping indoors and eating regularly.  
   
  About ten miles from the Holler near the north entrance of the Natchez Trace is another local gem - the Loveless Cafe. It is one of my favorite breakfast stops and they do some mighty fine fried chicken for supper - not to mention homemade biscuits and preserves provided with the meal.  
   
 

This time Les gets a real slab of country ham and is a bit amazed at the size of it. I tell him -

"You'll be drinking water the rest of day eating all that salt."

But once again, he mans up for the task at hand and makes the food evaporate in short order!

 
   
  As it turns out, a Ford Model A club is on a group trip on the Trace and has stopped at Loveless this morning for breakfast. So we get the pleasure of seeing some first rate restorations up close and personal.  
   
  As I stand back I can't help but wonder how close to reality this shot would be, since Loveless sits on highway 100, one of the main old roads to Memphis. They didn't start providing biscuits and such to folks traveling until 1951, but the original house was built about the time the Model A came out.  
   
  But if we're going to get where we need to get, we've got to get after it. It's a short hop to the north entrance of the Trace, a place that I've been many times before... but still enjoy.  
   
  One neat thing about riding the Trace during the week is you will probably see more wild turkeys and deer than you will cars. Today is not exception as we make our way down the north end - which is best riding part of the whole shebang.  
   
  Soon we're off the Trace and making our way along some of my favorite backroads when we encounter this energetic worker. They are supposed to have a flag man out, but they have failed miserably. There's some kind of hitch in their giddyup and we get sit for a lot longer than I want to. And this will not be the last 'obstacle' that we encounter today!  
   
  Soon we're cooking again and enjoying having the roads all to ourselves. Nothing better than riding on good roads with good pavement and good friends and no traffic.  
   
  When I hang a right down a road I know well, we have a little surprise. Since the ST1100s are not real good at high leaps or as chainsaws, our options for forward progress are somewhat limited.  
   
 

However, since the roads in the area are firmly established in my 'wetware' (that thing that resides between your ears), we do a U-turn and just head out a different way. A person asked me once if I ever got lost.

"Well" I replied "don't reckon I have been. I just keep riding until I find I road I recognize."

 
   
  We make good time despite our 'challenges' and soon arrive at the Bell Buckle Cafe. As I always say, just ask a fat man and he can usually tell you where to find something to eat. This is really neat place that has some mighty fine fixins.  
   
  Poor Les has not yet recovered from breakfast, so he decides to eat rather light. I wonder if it is because his riding britches are starting to shrink from the exposure to all of the warm air and humidity ...  
   
  With proper sustenance consumed, we continue on our journey eastward.  
   
  We wind our way through deserted backroads that are well maintained and a delight to ride.  
   
  Coming into the 'backdoor' to McMinnville, we make our way through the city proper. I point out to Les another great restaurant as we pass it, the City Cafe. One thing is for sure, when you ride with Uncle Phil, I will not let you starve to death.  
   
  Just outside of McMinnville, is highway 30 - one of my all time favorite rides in Tennessee. It's some pretty technical riding in some spots as it winds its way up and down the Cumberland Escarpment and the Cumberland Plateau.  
   
  The farther you go, the twistier it gets and we don't mind one bit!  
   
  But as you reach the first ridge top, you come into the little town of Spencer and right by the local sheriff's department. It is a very proper time to observe all posted speed limits.  
   
  And on the way out of town, I am always amused at this "Hillbilly Mercedes". Nothing like mudslinging in style and comfort!  
   
  Past Spencer the road continues to twist and turn and provide challenges for folks on two wheels.  
   
 

One of the places I've told Les about is Falls Creek Falls, the highest free-fall waterfall east of the Mississippi River at 256 feet. Back in the days when I had knees that worked well, I would hike down to bottom and swim in the pool at the base of the falls. You can actually get under the falls, but it feels like someone pounding on your head with a stick. So we make our way into the park so he can see them for himself. I feel very fortunate to live in a state that has so many lovely scenes and outstanding motorcycle roads ... and a few good places to eat!

 
   
  But we've got to keep moving, so head back out to highway 30 and down the ridge to Pikeville and the Sequatchie Valley. The views looking out are spectacular but you'd better keep at least one eye on the road as it snakes downward.  
   
  It's a grand ride down as the road twists and turns, following the contours of the ridge.  
   
  And every now and then, you come to one of these that makes sure you are paying attention - or else you will end up unceremoniously on the ground.  
   
 

We conquer the down, pass by Pikeville, then back up the other side on our way to Dayton. Dayton is behind us and we pass through the small town of Englewood. It used to be a big center of textile manufacturing, but now it is only a ghost of its former self. I always enjoy seeing this beautiful mural on the wall of their Textile Museum.

 
   
  Soon we are back out in the country enjoying the solitude of the roads we travel.  
   
  Our next major destination is the Cherohala Skyway - a lovely road that rises to over a mile of elevation at some spots. We decide to fuel up our STs and ourselves in Tellico Plains at the western terminus.  
   
  It's a sweet road with lots of sweepers as you make your way through the Cherokee National Forest in Tennessee and the Nantahala National Forest in North Carolina.  
   
  And some of the overlooks are stunning. In the fall time, this view is splashed with hues of gold and red.  
   
  The Skyway is both a joy to ride and joy to view for the motorcyclist but the wise man will not try to do both at the same time.  
   
  Some have tried and met with an unhappy conclusion as some of the curves will surprise you.  
   
  Soon we begin our decent into Robbinsville where we will be spending the night. It is one of the closest towns of any size to Deals Gap.  
   
  I always get amused when I come to this sign, as I am sure it has caused much consternation to swell in the bosoms of folks who see it for the first time. It is correct for you can get to Robbinsville by going either way.  
   
  We head to the left which is a little easier to navigate and soon arrive at our destination for the evening - the Phillips Motel. It's a great place to stay and they really like motorcyclists. If I am staying in the area, it's where I tend to park my head on a pillow.  
   
  They even have a shelter for you to park your bikes in out of the weather, so we take advantage of that kindness.  
   
  And just up the hill is Lynn's Place, a great place to eat lunch or supper. My only question is am I going to be able to make the walk up the hill with my knee in its current condition. But it decides to behave and we make progress slowly but surely. And the food is always well worth the walk and tonight is no exception.  
   
  Les avails himself of their salad bar and leaves it in fear and trembling that he will return. And I have almost got him cultured to the place where he likes to drink sweet iced tea - a foreign idea back where he's from.  
   
  Going back down the hill is a lot easier than coming up, and I'm sure it has nothing to do with the extra weight we are now carrying from the excellent food. But I am glad when we arrive at our resting place.  
   
  Tomorrow we leave early, for we have many miles to cover on our way back to the Holler. And we will pass through some of the most challenging roads that this part of the country has to offer. Sleep comes in short order to as both as we pillow our weary heads.