I know I am firmly entrenched in phase 3 because the proverbial ass kicking over the wallet subsided about 5 or 10 miles outside of Falling Waters, WV. Had this happened at Wawa at 02:30, it would have been a different story. Live for the moment and take Jim's advice and enjoy every mile. I was certainly heeding that sage advice thus far.
No shit. I'm not tired, not even a little.
After the rough start to the day and the nonsense that led up to it, I was sure I would be fighting the sleepy eye about now as I sizzled through the darkness, respectful of the radar gun buffer of the posted speed limit. I knew I would be ok once I could see the sun. The only way for me to sleep during the day is to have a medium sized hangover and put on my own personal Ambien which is the Masters or NASCAR. I haven't had a hangover in years, but that's how I remember it. I wasn't thinking about staying awake. In retrospect, I wasn't thinking about anything at all. It was as if I was just sitting there and sub-consciously reading and reacting to my surroundings. It was 05:20 and and sunrise was in 1 hour 55 minutes. I can DO this.
"Virginia Welcomes You" the sign announces. Right back at-cha. I wave and beep at the greeting, as is my custom, and get on with the business of shagging this big bitch. Mile marker 323 of a descending pattern lets me know just how much is ahead of me. 646 miles out of the 1048 will occur in this state with so much history for my nation, of which I am so proud. Hopefully I don't make much history of my own and am able to pass through unnoticed in my bidirectional assault. I make a mental note of the 323 since on the way back I will be counting up to do my 'figgerin.
Rt 81 is such an easy ride. Especially once you hit WV and VA where the posted speed bounces manically between 65 and 70 for no apparent reason. Just as the sky took on that awesome shade of purple that marks the official start of a new day, I noticed Exit 205 had a large yellow and black billboard boasting the "Best BBQ in VA". I wondered how many smoker toting pickup drivers took that as a personal offense when driving this interstate. No mention of awards and their dates, just plain old best 'cause his momma said so I guess. Too bad it was so early, too early for even BBQ which I usually cannot be denied. Today was about making tracks, not sightseeing. The real Iron Butt folks have a saying "Plan your ride, ride your plan". BBQ was certainly not anywhere in my plan for today so on the Pilot Road 3's spun.
It seemed the next tank drained to the amber warning light pretty quickly. Traffic picked up a bit with the morning commuters cursing themselves for being in a cage on what all the bubbly and busty weather girls were predicting to be the definition of a perfect day. How did Al Roker get that job?? I of course was smiling about my predicament, so much so the cheeks on my face were about the only area of unusual discomfort. The cheeks on my seat made nary a whimper.
"Here comes the sun do-do-do-dah.."
Buchanan, VA 07:40. VA mile marker 168. 357 miles into this adventure and I successfully made it through night 1 about 20 minutes ago. Miles to empty said 0 for the last 4 miles. I broke my own rule a couple miles back and exited without actually seeing the Marquee for the gas station and was jolted by the "3 miles thataway" sign at the bottom of the exit ramp. Screw that, I am on a schedule. Tached it back up to 5K and kept looking until I saw what the Tiger so desperately thought that it needed. 178.1 miles since Falling Waters. 4.328 gallons of Shell V-Power later I am cursing the ECU of this beautiful beast I occasionally refer to as Chiron. Technically, we are both Chiron, but I'll let my readers figure that one out if they are so inclined. There was another gallon in there and I swear to run deeper past 0 since the greedy bitch holds out on me for 80-100 miles in her thirst for more of the good stuff. The thought of pushing my top-heavy partner to the finish line somewhat tempered my enthusiasm for the plan as I chewed it over throughout the day.
I ask the lady inside about the construction that's about 1.5-2 hours ahead of me. It's my biggest worry of the trip. For days I have seen google traffic light up with red for extended stretches on the other side of Roanoke, sometimes for quite a ways. It's a nondescript part of the state with not much in the way of population centers anywhere near. My old girl at the counter tells me "oh yeah, that's bad, they're blastin' the mountains away on both sides and they start 'bout 8:30 quarter-a-9. Lady in my church sat there in park for almost 2 hours on monday." Thanks lady, it's 07:50 now, it's about 80 miles away, and you just mind fucked me. This whole goddamn adventure may now come crashing down due to some Obama spending. Whelp, nuttin' I can do about it now other than turn the key and get rockin down the highway. I thank her politely as I return to my ride with thoughts of getting rock rained on my head from the blasts being more palatable than sitting there for 2 hours. I was only 31.5 inches wide at the handlebars. Between he handguards and the polycarbonate coconut on my head, that should provide enough protection from the shrapnel right? Maybe I can lane split and blast past the flagger in hopes the odds are in my favor.
Goddammit.
To add insult to injury, the original plan was to do breakfast at this stop (time, not place). I was 30 miles from Roanoke however which was a little closer than I had planned. If I were to hit commuter traffic anywhere along the line, it was likely to be Roanoke and I was now in a pinch. I decide to push on through Roanoke and hope the work force there is more 9-5 than 8-5. Hopefully I can catch breakfast on the other side without too much damage to the clock. It is abundantly clear i need some recon for alternate routes around the blasting which won't screw me too badly.
"Breaker-breaker 1-9, this is Joel. Scuba-Conscious, you got your ears on?"
"This is Scuba-Conscious, go-head"
"Rumor has it we're crawling with care bears up ahead. I need you to send up phase 1 pronto"
"That's a negative ghostrider, the pattern is full."
"Don't give me that shit, just do it, or I'll make you listen to rap when we get home."
"Uh-uh-uh, yes sir, right away sir, please don't ever mention that again sir"
Buh-bye phase 3. You were awesome, I hope to have you back soon. Every man has a job to do, and for the next hour of my life, I'm gonna need a pro.
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