The plan for today was to get from Knoxville to Charleston, West Virginia at the minimum, by way of the Cumberland Gap which happened to fortuitously be nearby and directly in the path I was heading. Exactly why I wanted to say I have been through the Cumberland Gap I'm not sure, other than faint remembrances of it from my childhood elementary school lessons. It too, was one of those places like the Strait of Magellan that somehow seemed important in the scheme of things in the past. So, having crossed the Strait of Magellan it seemed fitting to go through the Cumberland Gap...
I was up earlier than usual, having slept surprisingly okay considering I had a battle with a giant cockroach on top of the bed before it succumbed to my BMW boot strike a few times. (More first world problems for your reading pleasure)
After stuffing myself with a syrup soaked make-your-own-waffle-from-the-beeping-flip-over-machine waffle, I loaded the bike in the early morning sun and temperatures in the low 60s. The temperature rose and fell like the road as I made my way East through fog filled valleys, the green forested hilltops protruding above.
When I reached the historic little village of Cumberland Gap, the little collection of buildings and houses seemed asleep, with the sunlight just beginning to stream here and there on the dew-covered grass. A lone man sat on a bench in the tiny downtown section and acknowledged my wave with a nod of his head. As I looped through, I spotted an old house containing a small café and coffee shop.
Coffee was what I needed, almost as badly as the underwear adjustment I managed to make surreptitiously upon sliding off the bike. The girl inside made a fresh pot of coffee and delivered a big steaming mug to me at the little table outside. Each of the tables had a fresh flower and the sound of a babbling brook nearby was my companion for the morning refreshment.
Today's ride took me from Tennessee through the edge of Virginia and apparently some of Kentucky before finally settling in to West Virginia. I struggled with wanting to take my time and explore many of the twisting back roads I could see, as is always the case, but I keep reminding myself that I must get to Newfoundland as fast as I reasonably can. I was rewarded with wide highways that allowed maintaining speed with very little traffic, and in addition wound their way through absolutely beautiful country. The terrain had started off very picturesque near Knoxville and continued to improve as I got further east, the hills getting higher and higher.
I saw quite a few Harleys heading the opposite direction throughout the day, enough to make me wonder if they were heading to rally somewhere behind me. As the bike hummed along for hours, I noticed that a large number of people were having yard sales on the beautiful sunny day. The region also seemed to have many flea markets, which were already surrounded by cars.
Pikeville, Kentucky was a designated butt break, and I looped through the old town apparently famous for its Hatfield vs McCoy background. Sadly, there were no reenactments of gunfights in the downtown section as per places like Tombstone, Arizona. No toothless barefoot men wearing only coveralls, a double barrel shotgun, a Hillbilly hat and a moonshine jug shouting at another across the street "I don't like you Mr. Hatfield!" then firing a couple of 12 gauge blanks. Darn.
I took a break at a local convenience store, leaning against the bike while drinking my "Two for $.99" bottles of water. I watched the leathery skinned clerk lady tossing bags of ice into the outdoor cooler, pausing only for a deep drag on her cigarette, her eyes squinting and flickering from the pull while she stared silently at me. To my right, the convenience store door opened and a 30 something year old dad dragged his little boy outside saying "Boy I'm going to whop your butt if you don't behave". Nods of acknowledgment from men about the bike as they walk into the store. Brief conversations with old couples moving slowly to their car. Scenes from America, repeated everywhere I travel in this great country.