We Blew It

Day Two  Chattanooga TN to Tishomingo MS

•         267miles

•         9 hours

•         24W to 50W to 64W to Natchez Trace Parkway

•         number of states: 4

•         percentage of R. Girl's tires intact by the end of the day: 50%

•         number of fire arms in tow truck driver's truck: 7 +

           

            We began the drizzly morning with coffee, pancakes and a pile of maps. Shad was impressed with R. Girl (the bike), and we tried to stuff him in one of the saddle bags and bring him along, but it turns out his parents love him and all that, so he's still in Chattanooga. We almost stayed in Chattanooga as well. It took us two full times driving around the city before we finally escaped on Hwy 24. Chattanooga, being one of the 7 most intelligent cities in the US, is too smart for us (aka shitty road signs).

            Hwy 50 from Monteagle was fantastic. We drove past the Sewannee campus and winded through Tennessee wine country (huh?) before coming to an intersection that gave us the option of visiting the Jack Daniels distillery. Well, of course we went, considering that whiskey is the Pirate and the Mermaid’s official drink. Lynchburg TN is incredibly charming, so much so that we wanted postcards.  We went in to three separate shops and asked for postcards and the shop keepers all replied, “yeah we got 'em, but you won't like 'em”. Well, hell. I ended up buying one of the Lynchburg jail and sending it to my nieces. The jailhouse in the town that makes jack Daniels is a perfect postcard for a 7 and 9 year old. That's what kind of aunt I am. 

 

            Down the road a little further we stop in Lawrenceburg. Adorable little downtown complete with town square and bandstand. We had lunch at the Forty Square restaurant. They were having a buffet that day, and guess what was on it. Fried chicken? Nope. Pulled Barbeque? Nope. Hungarian style stuffed cabbage rolls. Oh yes.  The Mermaid is half Hungarian, and so finding cabbage rolls (Eastern European manna) in a quaint little southern town was a little exciting. The waitress was amazing as well. It turns out that she and her husband are also bikers, so she was happy to give us tips about our route. She also told us that she had been married three times; once in a courthouse, once in a funeral home and once out in front of  a Dillard's department store.

            We leave this sweet little town and head out to the Natchez Trace Parkway (aka “The Trace”). It's a lot like the Blue Ridge parkway, only flat. We're in heaven. The road is beautiful, the speed limit is a comfortable 50 mph, and we have the road to ourselves. We're about 50 miles from our final destination when, you guessed it, the back tire blew. The Pirate, being a natural captain of all voyaging vessels, gets us off the road safely. We push R. Girl into a turn off that's just a few feet ahead, and then try to flag someone down (there's no phone service). The Pirate tries and tries, and no one will stop. Then he remembers: Mermaids are master beckoners, so I was summoned. The next driver who passed, stopped.

 

The guy who stopped to let us use his phone (Harley rider)

Truck full of post-fishing-trip drunk bubbas who gave us cold beers (not bikers, but were awesome)

The local 911 dispatcher (V-star rider)

The tow truck guy (V-star rider)

Tishomingo, MS, the nearest town (location of only motor cycle repair in 50 miles).

Travel magic? Engaged. Biker angels? Present and accounted for.

The guy who let us use his phone made us swear to call him that night so he wouldn't worry. The park service ranger tracked us down and wasn't happy until they knew we'd be fed and have a place to sleep that night. The tow truck guy (Terry Whitehead) drove us to “Tish”, bought us dinner, unloaded R. Girl at the shop and drove us 12 miles to a hotel. He fetched us the next morning, drove us back to Tish, and wouldn't take any money.

But didn't we have AAA you ask? Ah yes, we do, and they were no help. They didn't even know what the Natchez Trace Parkway was. Idiots.

Anyway, if you're ever in need anywhere near the AL/MS north eastern state line, find Terry Whitehead. He is one of the most genuinely kind and entertaining people you'll ever meet. We officially love Mississippi, and think that everyone from Mississippi is wonderful (including you, tt).