Crossville, TN


May 3-5, 2003
4000 miles 13 days



It all started as a perfect trip. Left about ½ hour behind schedule, which is good for me. The 500+ miles to Dallas, TX was windy, but that was to be expected of the south during spring. Nothing really worth noting, except that it was a great day, and a good ride. Second day was just as good, with the minor annoyance of construction on I-40 west of Memphis. As I rolled into Memphis proper, I was pondering the last 300 miles or so to Crossville. I stopped for gas and noticed the side streets were wet and there were an unusual amount of foliage on the ground for spring. I asked at the gas station and the clerk said a bad storm had just passed and I was right behind it. I spotted a Motel 6. After watching the weather channel, I realized I had made the right decision. The next morning, I slept a little late and had a great ride into Crossville the next day. Sun was shining, the breeze wasn’t a factor, and the scenery was perfect. Nice trip so far. I’ve logged 1326 miles so far in 3 days. I’m a half a day late, but enjoying myself.

As I roll into the campground, Magee, Marilyn and Paul, Medic, Shug, ACE45, Druid, FTWACE, and a host of others greet me. Everyone introduces themselves and help be remove my gear from the bike and setup camp. The RHR is already better than I expect. I ask about others and who all has shown up and where they are, Magee leads me to the hotel where I get to meet Jimbo, BSW, and more. This is going to be a great weekend!

Medic, Magee and I head over to the Bean Pot to grab some vittles. Back to the campground to drink some beer and get to know people. I wont go into the details of the weekend, as most of you who were interested in this story were there. A few things to mention though, some just for peoples curiosity, some for clarification, and some because the people that helped me probably have no idea how much.

First, the midnight screaming. I suffer from time to time with leg cramps. The first night at camp, I don’t even remember having one before I was woken up by Magee yelling at me trying to figure out what was going on. All I remember is thinking someone had put my calves in red-hot vices and were tightening them down. I’ve never before felt pain like that, nor do I wish it on my worst enemy. I figured I had overdone it over the last few days and I was low on potassium. I’ll take it easier Saturday and stop by a pharmacy.

The next day about half the group went to Fall Creek Falls and we had a great day for riding. After we got back, a few of us went to Volunteer Honda and then to Wal-Mart. I got my potassium and I’ll take it at dinner. Well, at dinner, I have a little bit of a headache, so I took a couple of Tylenol, or so I thought. Turns out, I took way too much potassium. Leg cramps are better that night, but in the morning, I can’t get my tent unzipped or even out of my sleeping bag for about an hour. I can’t figure out what’s wrong and the confusion is really taking hold. It’s Sunday morning at about 9:10 when I finally hear Medic outside packing up to go home. I call over to him and he comes over to see what’s up. At first, he thinks I’m just too lazy to get up to say goodbye, which I am, but then when I asked if it’s an nickname or if he’s a real EMT, he springs into action. I won’t go into all the details, but my blood sugar was so low that I couldn’t stand, much less help myself, and without Medic, probably would have ended up in the hospital via an ambulance ride. Shug and Druid both hung out with me for quite awhile to make sure I was all right. I’m not sure what caused the problem, but without the help of Medic and others, this trip would have been my worst nightmare. Thanks to all my camping neighbors that were still there at 9:00 on Sunday, I made it through the morning and the rest of the day without a problem, well, except one.

In case you missed it, I was supposed to deliver Preach’s sermon on Sunday morning. Because of my condition, I obviously couldn’t. I had printed out the sermon, put it in an envelope and kept it in my vest pocket. It was a wonderful sermon, and I had been looking forward to giving it. All day Sunday I kept taking it out and reading it to myself and feeling bad. I guess God had other plans for me.

I did hear that at least a few people showed up on Sunday and I apologize for not being there. That sermon is still in my vest pocket, and I’ll be posting it later this week.

Sunday night I go to bed after reading by the campfire for several hours. Forecast is for rain, but the sky is clear. About an hour after I zip up the tent, I hear raindrops, and lots of them. Looks like tomorrow morning might be interesting breaking down a wet camp, but I’ve done it way too many times to remember.

Monday morning comes and as I wake up, I still hear some light rain drops hitting the tent. As I unzip the window and look out I can see white clouds and patches of blue sky. It’s not raining the trees are dripping. Looks like my luck is getting better. I get up and break camp. Thank the campground owners for about the 20th time and head out to get gas. I run into BSW and Jubal at the station and after getting geared up and plugged in, I’m headed east to the Dragon before south to have lunch in La Grange with Smelecat. First exit passed Crossville, the clouds start to open up and a light rain forces my full faced helmet to come out of the bag. The going is slow from rain and wind. I make it to the Dragon about 1 in the afternoon, about 3 hours behind schedule. As a side note, don’t run the Dragon in 30 mph winds and rain. It’s slick. But I make it through and get my patch at Deal’s Gap. I push on south and the rain gets worse. The father I go, the slower the going. I call Smelecat and let him know how late I’m running, and he says his wife has already made up the spare room. Keep in mind that I was supposed to stop by and say “Hi” and ride another 350 miles to Florida. Mike offers the room once again after I roll into La Grange at about 9:00 and I take him up on it. I’m beat, wet, hot, frustrated, and a little groggy. Mike and his wife were wonderful hosts, especially for this weary traveler. The next morning my blood sugar nose dives again and Mike hangs out with me until we both feel like I can get back on the road. As we leave his neighborhood, a car almost creams me at an intersection. Damn blind curves. I decide to double check the maps and grab a bite to eat. The roads are good all the way to Panama City, FL and I make it about 3:00, just in time for a quick shower and to make it to my nephews’ baseball game. The next day is rest and then off to Texas. I’m about 1800 miles into the trip and other than some weather delays I’m feeling good. Two close calls with my diabetes, but luckily, good friends were there to help me out. Smelecat, Medic, I owe you both a lifetime of gratitude!

I get up late (pronounced “lazy”) and leave Florida headed west. US98 is under some pretty good construction, but I only have to go 953 miles in two days so I enjoy the ride. I hit Alabama and put the helmet back on but will be able to shed it later when I hit Texas and get away from all the helmet law states between there and my house. I blink and I’m through Mississippi. Louisiana is good weather and decent roads. I check the GPS and I’m about 50 miles from Texas. I stop for fuel and check the load on the back of the bike. Something isn’t sitting exactly right, so I take about half of it off and re-secure it. I decide that since it’s 11:00pm and I’m in the middle of some one lane construction and the going is slow, I’ll hit the Texas border and first cheap motel or campground and I’m going to call it a night. Little did I know…..

About 6 miles later, I had picked up a head wind and there were lots of semi’s on the super slab. I got out of the construction zone, back into two lanes. I reached back to see if the load was still secure from all the truck drafts and the wind and immediately starting cursing at the top of my lungs. One of my bungie cords broke, and when the load shifted, about 4 others came loose. My helmet bag, one of my packs, all my leathers except for my vest and a few other odds and ends are gone. I spend the rest of the night looking for them, but it’s dark, and on a desolate stretch of interstate. I locate a few things, but nothing that I really wanted, all my leathers and my helmet, were anywhere to be found. Somebody saw them and had to have picked them up. I look until about an hour before daybreak and catch a little sleep in the truck stop parking lot sitting up on the bike. I drive the area again after first light and there is no sign of my stuff. I decide to give up and press on.

I get to Texas and call Swami to get TexasACE’s phone number. I can’t ride the last legs of the trip with no jacket and no helmet and Houston is about an hour away. Before I can get a hold of Randy, Eric Reed calls to find out if there is anything he can do. All kidding aside, The Texas Posse is one of the greatest groups of guys I’ve ever met. Randy takes off from work, hooks me up with one of his dealers in Houston and I have a new helmet, he even got me his discount at the dealer. If you’re ever in Houston, stop by A J Foyt cycles. Great people. Randy then takes me out to lunch and it’s good to get off the bike for a while. The food is good, the conversation is great, but I’m way behind schedule, and still in a bad mood. I press on, even though I haven’t had more than a hour break at a time for the past 29 hours. It’s only 300 miles to my brother’s house and I don’t set any speed records getting there, but I do arrive safe. That’s all I can ask for.

A couple of days in the hill country does me good, not to mention that my brother knows the owner of a cycle shop in San Antonio and we head down there. After he tells the owner my story, he says pick out whatever I need and let him know. Turns out he gave me about a 35% discount, and assigned a salesmen to me to make sure I got good service. I picked out a Joe Rocket Phoenix jacket and a liner and walked out the door with it for under $100. I love this jacket. It’s like wearing an air-conditioner. Much needed in the 98° weather I’m about to go through. Only 500 miles to my house and I’m a day late.

I roll into my hometown the next day at about 7:00. I would have liked to be home a little earlier, but it’s miserably hot and I had a good side wind most of the day, and a little rain. I unpack the bike, take a shower, and pass out. I have to be at work at 7:30 in the morning. I’m exhausted, but I’ll make it, or so I think. I get up and feel dehydrated. I hadn’t drunk anything the day before except for 6 20oz bottles of water. I can’t figure out how I’m dehydrated, but I am. On top of it, I’m sore, weak, and generally don’t feel well. I go to work and by 9:30 I feel so bad I’ve decided to skip calling the doctor and have someone take me to the ER instead. They start pumping in fluid, 2 bags of saline wide open in about 2 hours. By the afternoon my doctor has shown up and read my lab reports, listened to the story and says I’m not going anywhere until I get better, or he figures out what’s wrong. He writes the orders and they take me upstairs. I asked the nurse why we were on the ICU ward and she said that’s what the doctor wrote the orders for. I wasn’t critical, but in ICU you get your own nurse. 18 hours later and 4 more bags of saline and they decide I can go home. They don’t know what happened, but I should be fine. I am, I could have told them that 3 bags of saline ago, but they wouldn’t listen.

So that’s the story of my 3921 mile trip to the RHR. Can’t say it wasn’t eventful. Hell, give me time to service the bike and I’d do it again next month, just without all the drama…..

Special thanks goes out to everyone who helped. Medic, for saving my life (don’t try and deny it! [80) Smelecat and his wife for the roof and the bed. You have no idea how much that was needed after the 250 miles in the pouring rain. Randy and the Texas Posse for the hookup on the helmet and all the offers for help, I couldn’t have made it home without the helmet. Too much wind and too much rain would have probably killed me….

And a big thanks to the organizers and attendees of the RHR. I’ll probably still be talking about this trip for years to come. I was great to meet everyone and put faces to names finally. My only wish would have been for it to have been a couple of days longer so I could have talked more to more people....

-ChrisT


All content © 2003 Christopher McDonald