July 12, 13 and 14 -- South Carolina to North Carolina

July 12, museum in time and banquet

This beautiful bike was a representation of the museum.

Today was the visit to the Wheels of Time Museum, which just happened to be over the state line and into North Carolina, the way I'll be heading tomorrow.

It was raining, and I was not interested in getting on the bike and riding in the rain. So guess what. In the vehicle with Sylvia and Ruth. The best part is I only see Sylvia and Ruth once a year, so I get to spend time with them and we can chat to our heart's content.

A great place to visit if you're in the neighborhood.

So many beautiful bikes, and I'm always drawn to white ones.

The military bikes are always fascinating.

There were even some neat fender ornaments.

One motorcycle looked like it had a homemade sidecar, or seat.  Duck tape and all.

There's always some beauty in amongst some old wrecks of bikes.

And then I saw it ... flamingos.  I want to be a part of this group.

The museum was a place to spend hours, although we didn't have that much time since the banquet was in the evening. But we did wander through and there was so much … cars, bikes of all kinds. There was a lot to see and I raced through to see as much as I could before we had to head back to the hotel to get ready for the evening's festivities.

1916 Traub, the one and only remaining one.  It was discovered in 1967 concealed in a brick wall in a residence in Chigaco.  It's all apparently hand made.

I'm always drawn to a police bike, even a blue one.

Old cars, old bikes.  Lovely to look at. 

The museum had a barbecue lunch for us, but it was still pouring down rain. YUK!!! But again, it's all part of the adventure. I'm living life, getting wet, getting sunburned … laughing all the way.

There were some hardy souls who rode.  My fellow Women on Wheels.

Driving back, we spotted this purple place (a shop).  Had to have a photo for my friend, the Purple Haze

The Women on Wheels banquet is the final event of the Ride In. This is where recognition is given, certificates awarded those deserving folks and awards are handed out. This is where I get my recognition … the highest mileage in my class of motorcycle. The big-ass ones!!! I've been the high-mileage winner for maybe seven out of the last eight years. Yippee. Got it again.

Yippee, skippy.  Got it again.  How many more years can I do this?e

And then it was time to say good bye to many of my new friends, and acquaintances I've met over the past five Ride In's I've attended. I enjoy these because it's women encouraging other women.

July 13, leaving Greenville

I ride a big bike and have an attitude to match,

Living the dream. I've been told that time and again, by people at home, and even by people I meet on the road. And I guess I am … riding and living off my motorcycle. It's been a wonderful trip so far this year, and so have all those trips I've taken in the past. I've gone on some wild rides, seen some spectacular things and met some great people. But I'm hoping this dream doesn't end for a lot more years.

Today I was heading to North Carolina, Raleigh, to be exact. I was meeting up again with an old school chum from the eighth grade (Whittier, Alaska), and seeing his mom for the first time in 50 years. I was excited. I'd seen David in Arizona and we'd had a smashing time. Now I would be on his turf, and I really was looking forward to a nice visit.

David had given me a route, and where to get off the Interstate to get near his house so he could either talk me in, or come get me. How hard could it be? I had all the highway numbers and the names of towns. Oh yeah. I forgot who I was dealing with … myself. I think North Carolina is as hard to get around in as Georgia. I couldn't find roads that told me which way to go for certain towns, and so I got turned around … way more than once. It became quite frustrating for me, but the good part was every time I had to stop to find out which way to go, it started to rain, and I was usually stopped. I hit a lot of showers, and got wet but I didn't get cold, and I wasn't wearing a jacket, just the T-shirt.

The easiest part of the day was getting onto I-440, and finding the exit for his place quite quickly. I phoned and he came to get me and lead me to the house.

When we got there he motioned me to follow him with the bike. I did, but was wondering where I was going. It was along side the cars and house, over the sidewalk, over the grass, over some bumps, down a little incline, around a wall and into the lawn mower garage. I had the feeling I'd never get the bike out of there again, not without tipping over multiple times. But David assured me we'd get it out. Then I unloaded and we covered the girl with a tarp. Just in case it rained … although she had a roof, too. She was being well taken care of.

Harlow had her own bike garage.

Then we went into the house and I met Mrs. Brown, one of my former school teachers from many years ago. She actually said she remembered me, and I felt good about it. She's delightful, and is now 90 years old.

A Gallileo thermometer.

Mom and me in this beautiful room. 

I got the grand tour of the house, got myself settled into my room, and off we went to dinner.

Remember? All roads lead to food.

July 14, Raleigh, North Carolina

I elected (after asking) to stay over another night in Raleigh. I have another friend I used to work with, Jason, and wanted to see if I could meet up with him. We did talk, but never got to get together.

There were tons of bikes and a wing cook off.  But this bike and it's label was the best thing going on.

Even without that, it was a full day,. I took the bike to the shop to see about an oil change. WOW!!! There was a huge event going on … a hot wing cook out, and there must have been 500 bikes. But I got my oil change. And then, imagine, I bought a Harley shirt. So, is that number 501? I'll need to count again once I get home.

I bought the pink one.

We wandered around the shop and, I know you'll never believe it, I started talking to a gal who was wearing a Ladies of Harley shirt. Her name is Paula, and we hit it off. I liked her shirt so much but couldn't get one since I was not a member of the Raleigh HOG chapter., I fixed that, and joined.

Pat Price, owner of Ray Price Harley-Davidson, Paula and me.

Paula and I continued to talk. I happened to look down at her boots. Oh wow. Herman Muenster boots. Her, too. They're more common than I thought. So we had to take a photo. She was a kick, and I could have chatted with her for hours.

Paula and me.

Look at those boots.  We do Herman Muenster proud.

She rides a big bike, and so we had to go see it because she's made it a solo seat and moved the tour pack forward. It was quite the creation, and I think it looked quite fine.

Paula demonstrates riding ... that girl has personality!!

From there we took the house trash to the dump … in a Land Rover. And I got to drive it. What a vehicle!!! We went four-wheeling … into the weeds (the scratches being made sounded like fingernails on a blackboard), and we found bamboo!!! Had to have a photo of that … if I was into vehicles, this would be one I'd like to have. It's comfortable, it's easy to drive, and feels like a tank … safe!!! The only thing I'd add would be a machine gun on the hood!!! And maybe a Beagle in the back.

A Land Rover in the woods ... in the bamboo.

Then it was off to the Farmer's Market. I've never seen ghost eggplants. Eggplants, tomatoes, peaches, eggs, plants. I sampled some of the tomatoes and peaches. The tomatoes taste like a tomato should taste. The ones we have at home, even those grown there, still don't taste like a tomato does here. YUMMY!!! The smells were wonderful … so we bought a few things to take home. And had to have a couple of photos, too.

The white one is called a ghost eggplant.  Who knew?

How could I not buy something from the kid who created these?  Tomatoes.  No eggplant.

And they bring in corn by the truckload.

From there it was back to the shop to pick up my bike, all clean so I hope I don't have to ride iin the rain anymore for a while. Then dinner at Cooper's Barbecue (famous you know), and home to listen to mom play the piano. It was lovely, and reminded me of when my mother played, although Mrs. Brown is very talented, even now.

Mrs. Brown playing her piano, Claire de Lune.

I was going to get that mower around the plants.  Whoops!!!  Got one.  I prefer the Land Rover.

It seems like my time here has been short, but all must end, and it's on to other adventures.

July 13

I'm not posting tonight either except for this photo of my dad. (More trip stuff later.) I'm in Raleigh, North Carolina, with an old school chum, David, and his mother. I carry this photo of my dad with my on my trips, and David scanned it for me. Thank you, David.

Georgia to Greenville, South Carolina (July 9, 10 and 11)

Greenville at last, July 9

In using my hillbilly diary on the bike, it's not so easy to write … and so many things I make a note of are unreadable later on. I need to work on the Iphone with the microphone thing so I can just click it on and off and make a note for myself. Too technological for me, I believe.

I couldn't help it.  A Harley shop with leopard print in the ladies room.  Needed this photo.

We got started from our lowest low-budget motel and on the road about 10 or so. We were in no real rush since we were less than 200 miles away and we had an easy ride in to Greenville. Besides, you really can't usually check into a hotel until 3 p.m., and we didn't want to sit around in the lobby waiting and waiting.

I was feeling kind of grumpy and out of sorts. I don't know if it was the hassle and the lack of real food the night before, or maybe I didn't sleep well. I just wasn't feeling my normal mostly-chirpy self. Maybe it was the lack of coffee??

The rigors of the road are there for those who wish to challenge them … mowers along the side doing what mowers do was the first one we met. I don't like the mowers because a dear friend, Mr. Dearth, got hit along side the head with a branch from one years ago. He was never the same after that, physically or mentally, and died at the age of 52. I always put my hand up thinking if something does get thrown at me my hand will blunt the force of it hitting me. However, I love the smell of mown grass.

Once again I was wearing only a short-sleeve T-shirt, and the cool air of the morning blew across my arms. This day was perfect for riding. It was in the 80s, there were lots of clouds but lots of sun, and I needed nothing more to make my ride pleasant. We took an off-highway with two lanes, lots of trees and cool air so we weren't suffering from the heat. There were gentle curves, some hills and just the kind of ride you never want to see end.

But all roads lead to lunch, or something like that, and we stopped in Blue Ridge, Georgia, the gateway to the Blue Ridge Mountains.

It may not look like much, but it was woonderful.

It was an amazing lunch … chicken salad with almonds. The chicken salad was unique, not made with mayonnaise but with Caesar dressing. It was so yummy I'm going to try it at home. It was served on a slice of dark bread on a bed of salad … I'm still thinking about it hours later.

More rigors of the road were out there to meet us. We got behind a truck with a load of tree branches and wood. It kept throwing things off the truck, so we got to dodge them. It becomes a game, but we were never close enough to be in danger. It's an irritant, though, that people can be irresponsible enough to trash the highways and create hazards for their fellow drivers/riders.

We stopped for gas and there were lots of deer heads hanging on the wall.  This one's for you, Hobbs.

We continued on, and the road got even better … T-wisted with a capital T. It was so much fun, just winding in and out, flying down the road, I know I could do this forever. We had been riding in two beautiful national forests, Chattahoochee and Sumter, large trees, and cool air. But, too soon, it ended and we were on the final approach to Greenville.

We were a bit froggy when we arrived at the Ride In.

While most good things come to an end, this did not. We were at our destination, meeting up with a few hundred other women who are out doing the same thing we were doing … riding, having fun and enjoying each others company. Let the fun begin, again!!!

The Women on Wheels organization is now 30 years old.

P.P.P.S: Saw gas for $2.93.

Greenville, and a few days of rest, and short rides, July 10

Ruth and I decided to hit the work-out room for a little bit. Exercise bikes, treadmill, a few other things. I did the exercise bike for a while, but it sure isn't zumba. Oh well. We did the best we could. And I guess something is better than nothing.

Things got even froggier at registration on Tuesday norming.

Sylvia needs to use a scooter ... and she has a little ramp that operates hydraulically to load it in and out of her van.  It's quite nifty. 

There's no mistaking we're at the BMW plant.  Ruth and Sylvia posed at the sign.

This is the entrance to the plant.,

The best part of the day was going to the BMW production plant that's located here in Greenville. I had no idea. There were various vehicles from early on, including two that were used in James Bond movies. I was impressed with those. But still don't care if I have one because cars aren't my thing. It was fun to visit. There were even some motorcycles. Again, don't care to have one, but fun to look at. Can't help it; I'm a Harley girl through-and-through. Besides, I've got so many Harley shirts I don't dare ride anything else. My wardrobe is taken care of for the rest of my life.

Yep, the James Bond Car.  Wouldn't this be fun for a day?

No explanation required.

The most interesting part of the tour to me was watching a short movie that shows how they make the cars. The vehicle parts are moved in and out, up and down to make it ergonomically (sp) correct for workers applying various parts and pieces. A lot of it is done with robotics, painting, dipping them in primer; the whole process is unique and there appears to be a lot of pride in the making of the cars. It takes six hours to put the body together, and 10 hours to do the painting. I did not find out how long it takes, start to finish, to complete a single car. The motors are being assembled simultaneously, but the film didn't say how long it took, or how long to get it into the car and all hooked up. I'd like to have known … start to finish … how long?

There were lots of different engines on display.  Car engines to engines used in helicopters and lift-off vehicles.

BMW made car engines to engines used in helicopters and lift-off vehicles.

And they make some pretty fine motorcycles, too. Even the old bikes are beautiful.

The Isetta was an inexpensive "roof" over a person's head.  Using a single-cylinder motorcycle engine the Isetta was  known as a bubble car.  They became popular in the 1950s post-war Europe, and represented the transition from two-wheeled motorcycles to a real motorcar.

This racing car makes me think of a hammerhead shark.

Tonight were opening ceremonies, and then an early night. I needed it. Which is why no blog was posted.

Sylvia and Ruth had fun with the bubble guns we bought at Cracker Barrell.

I was in Ruth and Sylvia's room.  Ruth was working on a puzzle we all had to put together where you scan barcodes and fill in blanks on a crossword puzzle to try to win prizes.  I had loaded the barcode ap on my phone, and now I even know how to use it.  Mostly.

P.P.P.P.S: Saw gas for $2.91 in Greenville, South Carolina

Greenville, July 11

WOW is all I can say. I attended a social media seminar today, imagine that … me, the computer-illiterate. But it was quite interesting, and I learned some things. Christine, a W.O.W person, is a player, too. She rides – I mean really rides – and she's a computer person. Quite, quite, quite literate. YAY! She helped me get the tracker back onto the blog page, and now it's become the first thing you see so you know where I am. I think it's a very cool thing, and that was just one of several she helped me do. Thank you, Christine. I so appreciate your time and help today, and your patience.

People from all over are here ... Georgia, Illinois, Kansas, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Minnesota, Nebraska, even from across the country from Seattle.  There's even a lady from England.

I found another redneck GPS.

WOW women go a little frog crazy.  There are frogs everywhere ... on bikes, shirts, jewelry, hats.  It's lots of fun seeing what people come up with or how they wear their frogs.

Ruth, Sylvia and I then wandered out where the bikes were and frogged them. WOW gals put frogs on people's bikes … bikes they like, bikes of people they like, frogs just because they can. And it's supposed to be done secretly. There are some very interesting bikes here, beautiful bikes, and they aren't all Harleys. But many are. It's just amazing that there are so many women who ride, and so many who come to an event like this. It makes you feel good to be a part of an organization that promotes women in riding, no matter the denomination of bike you ride. WOW rocks!!!

Many ladies have nice-looking vests.

So I did photograph a few of them.

This afternoon we are to go to the Harley shop for bike night. Hopefully it won't rain, but the shop is only a few miles away so how wet can we get? HA!!! Don't go there. Pretty wet if it rains hard enough.

Bike night didn't happen … rain, and the band couldn't play. Oh well, there was a restaurant called Quaker Steak and Lube. It's an interesting place, and lots of bikers go there … the food wasn't half bad either.

Arkansas, Louisiana and Mississippi

(I know that's a song)

July 7

It was a very long day. We left Stamps, Arkansas, about 8 a.m., heading to the southern state of Louisiana so Ruth could say she'd ridden there. The weather looked menacing and Mother Nature proved herself right. A few miles down the road it started to sprinkle, then it started raining harder and harder. And harder. I'm really not much for this torrential downpour type of rain, particularly when it's accompanied by lightning and thunder.

I was riding in just jeans and a T-shirt, in a closed frog position, meaning my legs were snugged up next to the gas tank to hold in the engine heat for warmth . My glasses had steamed up part of the way so I had to keep them low on my nose and I ducked close in behind the windshield in order to see. It's a strange way to travel, but a necessity sometimes when on the bike. I was mostly soaked but not cold until I went into a gas station where there was air conditioning.

Why do I bother to wear make up when it either melts due to the heat or is washed away with the rain faster than I can apply it? Except I like looking like a girl and decent when I get on that bike. I want people to know the person on the big bike is a female.

Of course, I'm thinking the female is a hillbilly road queen. Today I've got my jacket packed on with a cargo net and I'm using it for a back rest.

Roc straps, bungee cords and a cargo net.  Necessities for the road.

On top of my leather bag, I've got a red towel over the top of my hydration jacket to keep the water slightly cooler than the outside temperature. And Ruth bought a small cooler so we could pack water, and I've got that attached to the back of the bike with bungee cords. I take blog notes using paper taped to the gas tank with duck tape.

I can get quite a few notes on a couple of pieces of paper.

And Ruth and I hand write the road and towns we're going to and tape those onto the bikes, too. (Note: Redneck GPS.) Yep, I'm just a hillbilly road queen. And proud of it.

Oklahoma, Texas, Arkansas

July 6 and it's another beautiful day. I love the sunshine. It makes me feel good, like I'm living life to the fullest.

Off Ruth and I go, leaving at about 8:30 a.m. We'd thought we'd leave at about 7 a.m. to avoid some of the heat, but nah.

As we rode down the highway, there was lots to look at. I saw a palomino, a darker brown with a mane and tail that looked as though they'd been peroxided. It was beautiful and for a moment I lamented no longer having a horse. But only for a moment. The iron steed is my horse of choice these days. Faster, stronger and capable of carrying me further distances and on to new adventures. But I sure did love having a horse.

I relished the freedom of the ride this morning. I was only wearing a T-shirt and jeans, no long sleeves, no hydration vest. I was riding in frog position (perhaps it's a yoga position), and I took my hands off the handlebars. Total freedom. But only for a few moments. I'm too cautious to do that for long. I only ride fast.

Freedom on the road this morning.

There was lots of open land with nothing but grass, maybe a few bushes here and there. There was an openness that made me think I could see forever. I think I did. I saw where the land met the sky, with nothing breaking the skyline. Pretty, but I think it needed a few mountains thrown out there to add to the beauty.

Lots of land and sky. 

We stopped in Waurika, Oklahoma, to take a photo of the flag.  The street was cobblestones, rough to ride on, treacherous when wet.

This memorial is at a Whitesboro, Texas, fire station.  I took this photo for Hobbs' nephew who is a firefighter.

Horses and cows became abundant. I enjoy seeing them. It seems like the only other animals I saw were dead … an armadillo, a deer, a skunk, a raccoon, and a few other things I couldn't identify. I always say a little prayer when I see the first road kill of the day: Dear Lord, please take this creature up to you, make it whole, make it well, and keep it safe with you forever and ever. Amen. These animals deserve our compassion. And I certainly don't want to hit one of them, or have one of them hit me.

At one point I saw a bunch of turkey vultures, or whatever those big birds with the red beaks are. They were circling something off the road, something dead, I'm sure, but I couldn't smell anything.

There was a bright spot which made my day. We saw a turtle crossing the road. He was on the far side when we saw him, and there were no vehicles, so he got safely to the other side. It made me smile to see something alive out there.

In St. Jo, Texas, I saw a sign that said “anti-snake sulphur.” I wondered what it was. I didn't really find it, but found a lot of things that said sulphur was considered a snake repellent, but that it was myth. All I can say is that I don't intend to find out. In case you haven't realized it, I HATE SNAKES!!!!!

We rode further and came upon a truck hauling some pipes. Sand was swirling from the back of the truck and as we got closer it blasted my skin. It's totally different than the splatter from a bug that gives me momentary coolness, then stickiness if it's a big bug.

 On this trip I was hoping to get to Paris, Tennessee, but it was a bit out of the way. There is a replica of the Eiffel Tower that I thought it would be fun to see. But if you look up Paris, Texas, it turns out there's one there, too. So we stopped to visit.

Texans have their own take on the Eiffel Tower.  They've added a cowboy hat at the top.  I'm hanging from the supports of the bottom of the tower.  Grow up!!!  Don't think so.  It's just like monkey bars.  I'm having fun.

The Red River Valley Veterans Memorial is being created to honor all veterans.  It's to remind future generations and everyone that the freedom we enjoy is not free.  This memorial is located near the Paris, Texas, Eiffel Tower.

It was getting hotter and I saw three signs within a few blocks of each other, 95, 96 and 97 degrees. Which is it? I prefer the cooler of the bunch. But it was time to put on the hydration vest and long sleeves. Enough of a burn on my arms today.

Along the road there were a lot of ranches, and in a pen on one of them was a mechanical bull. It reminded me of the 2009 Women on Wheels Ride In in Kerrville, Texas. One of the rides was to Luckenbach and they had a mechanical bull set up for us. I'd always wanted to try it. So I did. What a blast. And I didn't get hurt when I fell off. They had all kinds of blow- up mats so all the old ladies could get up from the bull and continue to ride their motorcycles.

My jeans are getting looser and I feel like I'm losing weight although I'm eating. Then I realized that I've been wearing them for a few days and they've stretched out. Oh the agony of thinking one thing and then having to face reality.

I'm not a planter person, but can appreciate flowers and trees that I see along the way.

I've also rediscovered how to keep cars from getting too close on the back of my bike. Launch a water bottle. I heard something behind me, looked and saw that a water bottle had come out from under the cargo net. It bounced on the road in front of the car behind me. He kept a long distance between his car and my bike after that. Nice.

I forgot to mention, when I was traveling the other day on I-40, I may not know where I am, but I know where I'm going: Exit 84, hotels and gas, Exit 101, Indian moccasins and trinkets, Exit 108, food. Yep, it's easy to find my way. The signs tell all.

Semper fi, this blog's for you



There's nothing more to say about this.



July 5 and I'm off to Sgt. Grit's this morning. It's about 107 miles from the hotel in Elk City, and I'm meeting my friend, Ruth, from Kansas there. We're riding to the Women on Wheels Ride In in South Carolina together, in a roundabout way. Where ever we go, whatever we do, we'll be doing it together, at least for a few days. Oh my, wasn't there a song about that?

Sgt. Grit's is a place where Marines and former Marines buy stuff that is Marine-related. Hobbs has never asked me to bring him anything EVER, but this time he asked me to stop there to get him something, anything. How could I refuse? And I'm happy to do it. I like having missions when I'm on the bike. It gives me a reason to ride somewhere, for something. Pizza 240 miles away, lunch 350 miles away, one-way.  Day rides, all.  I don't really need a reason, but it's always nice to be able to say that I have one.

The weather didn't seem so hot this morning, or maybe I'm getting used to it. It did end up being 101 degrees, but I had my hydration vest and neck snake, and they do help. When the weather is this hot, though, I feel the need to slow down because when passing along areas where it's green or where there's water, or if I'm under cloud, it seems to be a 10-degree drop in the temperature. I want to stay there to enjoy the perceived coolness for a while. But too soon, it ends, and off I go back into the blast furnace that is like the bowels of hell.

It really doesn't matter, rain, heat, snow, hail, cold. I've ridden in all of it. Mud, dirt, gravel, broken pavement. I've ridden in that, too. I don't always like what I ride in, but it continues to be an incredible adventure. Life is an adventure and that's how I live it, so let's ride, baby, ride.

I kept on until I found Sgt. Grit's although, being directionally-challenged, I went by it first and had to turn around and come back. Inside there is a welcoming rug with Semper Fi, the Marine Corps motto, meaning always faithful or always loyal.

And here I am, Sgt. Grit's.

This is what greeted me when I walked through the door of Sgt. Grits.  Ain't he cute?

There's also a small museum with memorabilia of various types, uniforms, knives, memorials. It was interesting although I didn't linger long. I knew it would mean something to the Marine I live with, so I snapped a few photos for him.

Sgt. Grit.  Must be himself.

These did not seem to be full-size, but they were in a case with other memorabilia.

A memorial to one who helped pay for our freedoms.

Inside the main area is the showroom there is anything and everything you could hope to purchase with a Marine logo or saying on it. I chose a few things for him that I didn't think he had, and yep, free mailing. Woo hoo. Something I don't have to pack.

Sgt. Grit's is packed with all that is Marine ... and some that is not, but has the Marine logo on it.

The place isn't big but it's packed to overflowing.



This flag hangs at Sgt. Grit's and is to honor those who died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks.  Now and forever it represents their immortality.  We shall never forget them.

And yes, I signed the guest book.

Ruth had gotten there a little before me. We were sweating unlike how girls should, but there was no helping it. It was hot.

We rode off down the road, heading for Lawton, for our first night together on the road. She uses a GPS and I'm not always real trusting of them. I think they play jokes on you and take you on longer routes than you thought you were going to travel.

We were close to the hotel, according to the GPS, when we spotted a sign for a Harley shop. We were in the wrong lane but turned around and went back. I never saw a Harley shop where I didn't want to stop to buy a shirt. This one was no exception. I can't help it. Harley shops draw me like a moth to the flame. I won't tell you how many I have, but it's the price of a new car, although probably a cheap one.

We arrived at our hotel for the evening, ordered in Chinese food, and then hopped onto the Internet. We sit across the table, hardly speaking, working on our computers, drinking our drinks of choice, Pepsi for her, water for me.

And that, folks, is an evening wrap.