Day 1 - Ahoy Mateys

Well, let’s back it up just one day for a minute…here it is…February 28, 2008…nuttin special ‘bout this day ‘cept mebbe it’s the day before Leap Year Day. Ya know…just ‘nuther dreadful Winter day…get up…go to work…come home…pay the bills…have a beer…go to bed…get up and do it all again. Can ya tell I get downright depressed in the winter? So, it’s Thursday…I’m walkin in the door after work…and the missus is on the phone with some of our friends, Doris ‘n Wayne. Now, I gotta do a li’l settin up for this ‘un. Ya see…Doris ‘n Wayne retired recently, and bought themselves a nice 43-foot trawler style boat. They spent a little bit of time and money on it…ok, so in the boatin world there’s really no such thing as a “little bit” of time and money…and got it in prime travelin condition. They then set sail on the “Great Loop”…an epic journey down the riverways to the Gulf…on down to Key West…back up the east coast…in at New York Harbor and on over to the Great Lakes and Canada…and then back home. They plan to take a year for this adventure…have been gone a few weeks…and the last we had heard from them, they were in Key West ‘bout to weigh anchor and start headin up the east coast.

OK, so ya might be askin what the hell all this boat talk has to do with a scooter ride. Well, like I said, when I walked in the door after work, the missus is on the phone with Doris. As I round the corner into the kitchen, she hangs up and says, “Guess where Wayne and Doris are….Daytona Bike Week.” Partly jokin…I asked the missus if that was an invitation. Well, ya shoulda seen the twinkle in her eyes as she pondered that question. Just the mere possibility of it bein an invitation set us to task on linin up babysittin for our son…and packin the scoot. After we get all that lined up, the missus calls Doris back just to get a feel for the invitation thingy…and how does Doris answer the phone? “Ya’ll are coming down…aren’t you?” Seems she knows us better than we thought. hehe Well, that’s all it took to seal the deal, as CK retrieves some moolah from her secret breadbox stash…hands it to me…and says, “Happy early birthday…let’s go.” WOO HOO! That dreadful winter drudgery I mentioned above is instantly transformed into the giddy anticipation that only the promise of a long ride can bring.

Anyways, back to Day 1. It’s now Friday mornin…I’ve dropped our son off at school…and we’re rollin outta the drive ‘round 8:30. It’s a chilly 44 degrees as we head out…but an earlier check of weather.com shows it’s warmin up to highs in the 60’s and 70’s for the next couple days…so we bundle up a bit, and head South on US-411. Highway 411 is a busy four-lane for ‘bout the first forty miles, but then turns into a right scenic two-lane ride thru the country. We’re really intent on enjoyin this first leg…cold ‘n all…‘cause in ‘bout a hunnert miles we’re gonna pick up I-75…where it’ll be nuttin but haulin ass on the superslabs for the remainin 500 miles to Port Orange where our friends are docked just five miles South of Daytona. We make it down to just shy of hittin I-75, where we stop for gas to make sure we can make it well below Atlanta before needin more petro…ridin thru Atlanta is bad enough without havin to get off an exit there. After toppin off the tank, we jump on I-75, set the meter to ‘bout 75 mph, and just hang it in the wind.

We make it on down thru Atlanta without any probs…man, I really hate ridin thru the heart of that city…and finally stop somewhere above Macon for a fill-up and some lunch. As we’re pullin up to the pumps, a couple guys fire up their scoots at the Huddle House next door, give us a wave, and head out on the highway. It’s at this time the missus mentions how she woulda thought there’d be more bikes on the roads today…as those were the first ones we had seen in our first two hunnert plus miles. I kinda grinned and told her I had seen several…and in fact…there were several within spittin distance of us right now. As she’s givin me that puzzled, what-the-hell-you-talkin-about look, I just sigh and point out the many trailers all ‘round us. “We’re ridin ours to Trailer Week.”, I mutter as I top off the tank and turn my attention to the Huddle House and the waffles waitin within. She scans the trailers, looks at me, and says, “You’ve gotta be kiddin! What’s the point?” Well, that’s what she said just before callin ‘em all sissies. hehe That’s my girl!

But, I digress…back to the highways. We’re soon finished woofin down lunch, and are once again knees-in-the-breeze down I-75 at a brisk clip. We do eventually see a few more bikes as we enter Florida, but are still out-numbered by the Trailer Queens by a disappointingly large number. We do run into a pair of guys that rode theirs outta Indiana two days earlier…in 15 degree temps no less! I guess there’s still SOME hope. We’re coverin 100+ miles ‘tween stops, and make pretty damned good time on down to Port Orange, where we thread our way from the interstate over to the Adventure Yacht Club where Doris ‘n Wayne are docked. The name is a bit more auspicious than reality, as the place is a fairly modest but nice marina, complete with a very casual tiki bar and restaurant rolled into one. Boondocks is the name…picnic tables and bench seating in the ubiquitous Florida open-air style bar. Ahhhhh…our kinda place. As we get the scoot parked, Doris ‘n Wayne come out to greet us with hearty handshakes ‘n hugs. As Doris is huggin CK, she tells her, “I’m glad we have friends that are as crazy as we are!” We told ‘em, “So are we…bet no one else has a yacht for Bike Week accomodations.” BWAHAHAA! They show us to our cabin…complete with our own private bath…we stow our gear and then proceed to wash down the day’s long ride with some brews on the poop deck. They had even gone out and stocked their cooler with what musta been a case of our favorite beer so we didn’t have to make that run after our long ride. Bike or no bike…that’s buds! After catchin up with the goin-ons in our lives…and hearin tales of a few tense moments in their travels so far…we head over to Boondocks for a late dinner and yet some more adult beverages.

Ya’ll pull up a chair and have ‘nuther…we might not be in the Keys again…but we’re definitely on island time. See ya tomorrow for a putt down to Main Street…into Daytona’s rally central.