J ULY 2 0 19 MOTORCYCLE MOJO 49
For additional photos of
New Orleans to Nashville visit:
motorcyclemojo.com
including the Rolling Stones, Bob
Dylan, Paul Simon, and, of course,
Lynyrd Skynyrd.
When Opportunity Knocks
Nearing the end of the day, I stopped
on the banks of the Tennessee
River, where, in the early 1800s, a
half-Chickasaw entrepreneur named
George Colbert ran an inn, farmed and
operated a ferry. Where travellers of
the Trace had no alternative, Colbert
saw opportunity, once charging
Andrew Jackson $75,000 to ferry his
Tennessee Army across the river.
Arriving at Meriwether Lewis
Campground in Tennessee, the third
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a memorial to Lewis, the talented
secretary to Thomas Jefferson and
half of the Lewis and Clark duo that
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was the location of Lewis’ mysterious
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sprinkle kept me looking skyward as I
unrolled my bivy and cooked dinner on
my camp stove. I soon found myself in
conversation with four neighbouring
campers who between them had 74
years of trucking experience and, by
their own description, were “as redneck
as Tennessee makes ’em.” As we said
our goodnights, one of the wives
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“Here. You should have this,
travelling alone,” she said. Then taking
my hand in both of hers, she added, “Be
safe.”
Morning came early but it was clear
and sunny. I was on the Trace before 7
o’clock and almost as quickly turned
off the road. I had heard about Yoder’s
Homestead Market, and I thought I’d
get breakfast there. But when I pulled
up, it was closed.
“I thought the Amish got up early,” I
said to myself. “I saw Witness.”
Then I realized it was Sunday. Of
course they were closed!
So I continued on to Leiper’s Fork,
one of the oldest American villages on
the Trace. It was a picturesque little
gathering of shops, including Puckett’s
Grocery, where I intended to stop for
fuel and coffee. But when I smelled the
biscuits and gravy, I had to settle into
a booth and place an order. Several
bikes were parked out front, and riders
sat at the open-air tables enjoying the
morning sunshine.
After riding through days of forests,
centuries of history and little to remind
me of modern civilization, I came at
last to Mile Marker 447, the northern
terminus of the Trace. That brought me
to the city of Nashville with all its rush
and glitter – which could be an adventure
in itself. But as I turned my front wheel
toward home, I knew I’d be thinking
back longingly to the quiet nights and
pensive days along forgotten paths.
Constructed in 1861, Windsor mansion was
located on a plantation that covered
1,100 hectares. The owner died only weeks after
its completion. The building survived the Civil War
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All was lost but these columns and ironwork.