Trans American Trail

 For the last 11 years I have attended the AMA’s Vintage Days event at Mid Ohio Road Course. The past 4 years or so it has become mine and my 11 year old daughter’s thing to do together. A friend of ours brings a motor home from Pennsylvania , we split the cost of two vendor spots in the swap meet, and we visit and buy and sell junk for three days while living out of the motor home. Last year, Livie and I rode the KLR650 out from Missouri (we normally drove the van). We left Mid Ohio Sunday morning and spent the next two days in Eastern Kentucky visiting coal mining museums and learning about coal mining before riding home. This year, we rode the KLR again with the intention of leaving Vintage Days and heading for the start of the Trans America Trail (www.transamtrail.com). This year Mark did not bring the motor home, but provided us with a tent and we camped out. We left Saturday at noon heading for Jellico Tennessee where the “trail” starts. The Trans America Trail is a route that runs from Jellico , TN to the west coast in Oregon using a combination of dirt roads, rural paved roads, and haul roads etc… I learned about this trail through www.horizonsunlimited.com, when reading traveling stories and ran across one from www.trailscout.com where a fellow had ridden this trail in it’s entirety and tells the tale with photo’s and mini summaries.

            Mark had traveled to Mexico earlier this year (February I think) with the goal of reaching Copper Canyon . By his account, it was a poorly planned trip. From his KLR being loaded so heavily that it wouldn’t sit on the sidestand, to his thinking that he could reach Copper Canyon the first day, to his not speaking Spanish and not taking a partner with him. It took over two days to reach Copper Canyon , by then he had to turn back and head home. He crashed on the morning of the second day and realized at that point that it would be entirely possible to die in Mexico . It is one of those things where we ride in our yard or race track and take for granted that someone will get help, should something happen. It is obviously just as easy to ride just as fast and carefree in Mexico , but the consequences could easily be more severe. Mark had stated that he would ride for an entire day and maybe see no more than one vehicle. During the crash, he couldn’t pick the bike up until he unloaded everything. All of his clothes were in his tank bag and were so soaked by fuel from the filler cap, that he wrung them out by the roadside, repacked them, and wore the second day clothes for the remainder of the trip. The rear brake pedal/master cylinder bracket was broken during the crash, so there would be no rear brake for the rest of the trip. Now he is riding an overloaded KLR up and down canyon walls with only a front brake and street tires. I think that all of this opened his eyes. He will go back, but with better preparation.

            Saturday morning before leaving Mid Ohio, he told me of a dealer friend that I knew who had went to Mexico with a couple of buddies to ride dirt bikes. One of them ran off the side of a cliff and died. They decided that the best thing to do would be to bring him back to the US for a proper burial. Thinking that it is a “problem” getting a dead body through the border crossing, they decided to prop the guy up between the driver and the passenger and drive through. The crossing guard took an interest and started asking questions. They said that this guy was very sick and that they were attempting to get him back to his doctor in the USA . The guard sensed that more was going on and advised them that they had a doctor. The guard insisted that they let the border doctor see the guy. In the end, they were able to get out of trouble, but it

allegedly wasn’t easy! Mark followed this by handing me a copy of an editorial that Greg Frazier had written for Dual Sport Magazine. In the article, Greg indicates that he prefers to ride alone. He had a friend who was an accomplished dirt bike rider. This friend wanted to go riding in Mexico and asked Greg to take him. Greg decided that it might be interesting to see Mexico through a “first timer’s” eyes and took him. After a couple of days, they came across another group that offered the new guy to ride with them. The new guy didn’t have a good feeling about the organization of the group, but after discussing the pro’s and con’s with Greg, decided to leave Greg and go with the group anyway. A day or so later, the new guy was nailed by a tile truck at an intersection and died. What’s the point, I suppose that it might be to realize that when you are away from home, away from the Interstates and big city hospitals, especially in a third world country, good judgment has to prevail, as it really is your life on the line. So, with this fresh in my mind, with little clue what trail difficulties we might encounter, we left Mid Ohio headed for Jellico , TN.    

            Sam Correro (the guy who has assembled this trail route) recommends riding about 200 miles each day and routes it to a motel at about that mileage. We intended to ride Tennessee , Mississippi , and Arkansas until we reached Hwy 65, where we would head north for home. In order to accomplish this with the remaining days that I had off work, we would have to make 300 miles each day through Tennessee , covering the 600 miles in two days, instead of the three days that Sam recommends. We left the Days Inn in Jellico on Sunday morning at approx 9:00. The air was damp as it had rained overnight. We were both apprehensive, as we didn’t truly know what to expect. I didn’t know if it would be all legal, all passable with a KLR with two people and panniers loaded full with luggage. Sam provides a route sheet and a detailed set of maps. The first day, we did not need the maps, the second day was a different story. Countryside was pretty and green. I must say, if you desire to really, really get a feel for how the people of an area live, riding the back roads beats the crap out of the highway. If you just ride following the route sheet, you will never feel that you are close to a town. The biggest towns that we were routed through usually only had one functioning gas station. Yet we were pretty much routed south of Nashville within about 30-40 miles of it, yet still very much out in the country on some very rural roads.

            About 30 miles in, we had found a rhythm and my concerns had begun to dissipate.  The route sheet was dead on with mileage and the scenery was beautiful! We saw a lot of wildlife. One loose horse on the road, some cattle out, deer, raccoons playing in a ditch, a pig out, and later some snakes. There were two or three close calls with deer over the next days. We stopped for breakfast at a little gas station/mini mart/restaurant about 40 miles in. I had some concern regarding a section on the map that reflected trail through the Catoosa Wildlife area. I was concerned if it really was legal, or if we might encounter horse people and a rough time, if Sam might have routed through this long enough ago that the Forest Service might be laying waiting for us to arrive, etc.. During breakfast, the guy at the gas station had confided that a major storm had come through Friday night with a lot of rain. Some of the roads prior to the station had severe wash outs. I didn’t have a clue as to what to expect from the trail section in the Catoosa Wildlife area. Now I add the worry that the trail may be impassible with a nearly 400lb motorcycle with two people and street tires. It turned out that the trails are two lane gravel roads. There was one tree that had fallen, but had been cut out before we arrived.

On to the Great Falls Dam which was a nice surprise as we rode up on it not expecting it. We made it to Interstate 24 that night and headed near the Manchester area to find a motel. It was now 8:00. The first motel was a bit proud of their rooms, so at the second motel we had better luck. In fact, when the Indian/Pakistani discovered that we were paying cash and did not require a receipt, he could not stuff the invoice back into the niche that he had begun pulling it from fast enough! We left to get something to eat. After eating, it was now dark and we learned that the headlight on the bike wasn’t working. We rode back over the overpass with only turn signals and a brake light to reach the motel. Found a fuse blown, replaced it, started the bike and it worked, so we went to bed.

            In the morning, rode back to the same restaurant to eat, found that the neutral light wasn’t working. Shut the bike off, turned the key back on and discovered that the electric starter would not work. Went in and ate, then went to work on the bike. This time, the light fuse was good, but the main fuse was blown. Hhhhhmmmmm…. Further research found that the light fuse had been replaced (by me) last night with a 35 amp fuse (not the 15 that I thought I had used), leaving the 20 amp main fuse as the new weak link. A quick assessment of the situation I realized that worst case (with the proper 15 amp fuse in the light fuse), we could ride in the day with no lights, as long as the main fuse would not blow and the starter could be used. I pulled the side panels and seat looking for problems, thought that the mud in the taillight plug might have caused the problem. Reassembled the seat and sidepanels (challenge with the aluminum panniers/no tool to remove them, and the stock tool kit). Set out to go and the headlight fuse was blown again. Once more removed the seat/side panels and now the fuel tank. Found the harness rubbing on the steel mount for the tank rubbers and a wire rubbed through. Tied it up to the top frame rail with tape, reassembled everything, and by 11:00, we were on the road. The headlight worked the remainder of the trip, and I can only say that this would be just another part of the adventure.

            It seemed in Tennessee that everywhere that there were two or more house trailers, there would be a new shiny sign that said “Slow, Children Playing”. Yet at the road intersections, there would not be a road sign. Usually a post (signs stolen?), but not a sign. I am hoping that some of these children who’s lives are being saved with the “slow” signs will grow up to manufacture and install road signs so that travelers may have a bit better idea where they are. Of course in reality, travelers would rarely use this combination of roads to travel across the state, and since the locals live there (but apparently drive too fast when they see kids playing), they don’t need the signs. As a side note, we rarely saw any children outside playing. It was high 90 degrees and they must have all been inside in the air conditioning.

             We experienced some issues with the route sheet today. Then again, we had nowhere to be, and all in all, this just led to another part of the adventure. If you really think about it, with the mileage provided on the route sheets, there could only be one combination of roads that could be correct anyway. At one point, the road names on a sign at an intersection did not match anything on the map, so we were riding a bit blind for maybe 20 miles.

            It had apparently had rained hard just prior as we exited this “confused” section where more reassurance might have been handy, and entered Double Creek Road, as now there were limbs down , debris across the road, and the clay was really, really slick! I would guess that Double Creek Road earned it’s name from the creek that doubled back

and forth across it. Several wooden bridges, wet, slick with no sides. Eventually, there was a water covered rock slab that was SLICK!!! I made Livie get off and I rode across solo. The rock was not smooth and the bike nearly got out from under me. Livie walked across and fell down just trying to walk! Her shoes and socks got wet, so we tied the socks around the mirrors and she wore the shoes without socks. With our sock flags waving in the wind, we headed for Waterfall Road , where the route sheet warned of very slick water crossings (it hadn’t mentioned this on Double Creek Road ). Now I was concerned that this could be a problem. In the end, it was a similar crossing with similar issues. I rode across alone, this time Livie waded across with no issues. The waterfalls on this road are pretty neat. You definitely can’t see stuff like this on the Interstate.

            I had some problems with the slow distance rate of travel, as I generally travel long distances on the Interstates. But I had to keep reminding myself that we had nowhere to be and that every minute that we were going forward, we were completing the distance. At times while running down a dirt road and being bored, I would remind myself of the image in “On Any Sunday” of Malcolm Smith running across Lake Shappalla (though we weren’t going anywhere near 100 mph)! I can’t imagine what the early settlers must have felt like going at the rate of 20 miles per day in a wagon train.

             We reached the three day point at around 8:00pm and stopped for the night. The next morning we left late, on the road about 10:00, finishing the last 25 miles of Tennessee and planning to complete Mississippi today (212 miles) and get into Arkansas . For some reason, we seemed unable to make much time at all today. Close to 100 degrees, no wind. We had trouble staying hydrated and stopped often for water (we were carrying it with us). And the roads in Mississippi were very difficult. Clay with river gravel on top. The clay threw me for a loop. There seemed to be four types. Dry and silty (bike wallows and plows), damp and fast (dirt track style), wet and slicker than crap, muddy/rutted where the bike might cross rut, or even sink in. Mostly, it was the Dry and silty type. After trying to stay out of the loose rocks in the center (to protect the tires) and riding on the dry and silty edges and fighting the bike for the first 20 or so miles, I started riding in the gravel. The gravel was mostly loose and the bike would plow around, but this was a bit more predictable than the clay had been. Northern Mississippi was far less populated than even Eastern Tennessee had been. I expected the scenery to be boring, and maybe it was a bit more so than Tennessee, but then again, it was different than what I am used to seeing and with the riding challenge of the road surface, I found it fun enough.

            We were about 30 miles into Mississippi and about 4 miles down a 5 ½ mile road and found the road to be under water. It looked like a swamp with water all around. The road appeared to be about 18” under for maybe 100 feet. Having established that I am no master of the clay, I didn’t know what to expect from the surface under water. We hadn’t seen a house in probably 2 or 3 miles. What if we had made a wrong turn and were not on the correct road. Watering the bike out over something like that would really be stupid! It was desolate. I put on my rain boots and walked into the water to test the bottom. It felt solid. The next consideration was what might be under the surface (logs, ruts, bodies, etc.). In all, we are about 600 miles from home, with no other means of getting back, so with the Mexico stories circulating in my head, I put on rain pants and boots and eased into the water in first gear. Maintaining enough speed to have a small amount of momentum, yet trying to go slow enough to catch the bike if I hit a log underwater I was

able to get the bike through. I had left the camera with Livie and instructed her to get a photo if I crashed! Fortunately, she only got photo’s of me going through. She had removed her shoes, rolled up her pants legs, and put on her rain pants and boots to walk across. On the other side, as I was removing the rain clothes, I heard water running and thought it odd, as this was standing water. Walked into the brush on the side and found that there was a rough stick dam, probably otters or beavers, or something. I thought about attempting to tear it down, but decided against taking a chance on having to fight whatever animal was responsible. Need to quit while we are ahead. Unknown to us, about ½ mile up the road were houses!

            We encountered road construction approx 5 more miles up the road. We ignored the signs and rode up until it was clear that the road was cut out and they were installing whistles for water drainage. Using the map provided, we were able to back track and route around this and continue. I was fighting major discomfort today, and could not get comfortable. No matter how I sat, I could not last more than ten miles or so. I stacked dirty t-shirts up on the seat, taking care to fold them so that there were no wrinkles. I don’t mean to get personal, but I have had an issue with the seat on the KLR (Corbin) since the start (though it is FAR better than the stock one), and had even had it modified before the trip hoping to sit on it all day on the highway. Yet it seemed no better than before. At 43 years old, I have raced dirt bikes and ridden street bikes most of my life and never considered the need for proper underwear. When I just couldn’t take it anymore, I stopped by the road side and removed mine (remember, back roads, this should give you some idea of how desolate these roads really are). The situation was drastically improved. I think that some of the non-padded bicycle shorts might be the trick to long distance riding. After returning home, a bicyclist advised me of a product called “butt balm” that makes your skin slick so that it slides in the bicycle shorts and the skin doesn’t drag. Hopefully this may help someone else, as no one had ever bothered to tell me.

             Road construction was encountered with road closed signs twice more this day, but we were able to ride through one (only a rough road/after worker hours), the other was opened but they hadn’t taken down the signs yet. After the last road construction, the route ran down the top of a levee. It appears that the farmers use these to run equipment in and out of the fields. We ran several miles down this one and saw no other traffic. Running through a delta field there was an armadillo crossing the road with what appeared to be a field rat on it’s tail running the same speed. Getting closer, it was clear that it was a momma and a baby armadillo. It was funny! The baby was hot on her heels! After that we were sprayed with the end of a center pivot sprayer and it felt good! There was a bridge with a closed sign and a marginal wood surface, yet it appeared to actually be open. I guess this might be the counties method of allowing the farmers to use to road to access the fields, yet not being responsible in the event of an accident? We made it to the Isle of Capris Casino (end of Mississippi ), changed to the Arkansas route sheet, and head across the Mississippi river to Arkansas . We found a room in West Helena , ate and parked for the night arriving around 9:00.

            Wednesday we hit the road at 9:00 after breakfast and headed out through the Arkansas delta fields for the first several miles. Some might consider this boring, but not being raised around a delta or farming, I actually found it interesting to see the equipment used for this. Today snakes would highlight the wildlife, as we saw several and actually ran over one. I didn’t intend to, but the surface was loose and stopping suddenly would

have likely resulted in us falling on it instead. Since each day had held some adventure that I had not expected, I could not help but wonder what today held. There was one large mud hole. We got to ride for a few more miles on a dyke. The big adventure for the day was the 6.5 mile road that took us up out of the delta onto the plains. It was nasty white large and loose gravel. If we could get hooked up in a rut, we could go fast and it required little effort. Where a driveway or a side road joined, the gravel was pushed and there would not be a rut and it got exciting at 50 mph! The last ½ mile of gravel was new and loose and we traveled it in first gear with both feet down and the bike wallowing left to right and back again. Then it turned to chip and seal. A tar truck sat at the beginning, but there was no fresh tar initially. Approx ¼ mile past the truck there was  approx ½ mile of freshly oiled roadway. How stupid was I you ask? I rode 50 mph down it with tar flinging everywhere! I had no idea and we were waving at the construction guys as we passed. At the end of the road the brakes didn’t work well, but we stopped and crossed. I realized that the windshield had some oil spots on it, then saw the top of the radiator scoops caked with it. We stopped at the next intersection and got off. The rear of the bike was totally black, license plate covered, saddlebags dripping, some oil in Livie’s hair, oil all over the front forks and both brake discs, my pants and boots, and Livie’s shoes. What an idiot! We stopped later for a drink and I used a rag in the saddlebag and some fuel from the petcock to clean the lights and the license plate. As the day wore on, the I could tell that the oil was getting more solid and will be harder to clean off.

            About 188 miles in Arkansas we hit hwy 65 and turned north for the ride back to Missouri .  We had covered Approx 1,000 miles of the TransAmerica Trail in 4 days, plus the trip to Mid Ohio, 2350 miles in all in 7 days. Through it all the KLR just kept going and Livie is a great travel companion. I am amazed at how well she travels. I am thankful that we are able to take these trips together. Not sure where we will go next year, but Vintage Days will be on the list!