CHECKS TO:
GAIL PURTAN FUND KARMANOS CANCER INSTITUTE 4100 JOHN R DETROIT, MI  48201
1-800-527-6266
"IN MEMORY OF MARY LOGSDON" - IN NOTE SECTION OF CHECK

JULY 5, 2006 - "LITTLE DID HE KNOW, THAT HE WAS TRAVELING WEST - TO THE TWILIGHT ZONE" - ROD SERLING

I left Clearwater at an amazing 7:30 AM, with the sun shining brightly, and the temperature and humidity at the very same level - 89. The Eye family was very helpful and considerate for allowing me into their lives. I am especially impressed with Jody's idea of starting that nonprofit company to help clothe kids for school. That is very cool.

At one of my rest stops, I took out my tire gage (a very thoughtful gift) and checked the tread wear on the motorcycle tires. It was obvious that the rear was at the limits for staying safe, and the front would arrive there soon, as well. This meant that I had to leave the coast and head for Gainesville to a dealer there. I was a bit beyond the Ocala dealer, so off to Gainesville I went. Gainesville is not exactly in the "tourist corridor" of Florida, but that doesn't mean that the attempts to gather in tourist cash are not creative. Virtually every other exit has a "FLORIDA CITRUS GROWERS STORE" "BOILD PEANUTS" "ORANGES $1.00 A BAG" - and the real crowd pleaser is this "COME SEE THE 13 FOOT ALLIGATOR!!"

I kept trying to figure out how that damned Gator was able to move faster than me and make it to the next exit and THAT Florida Citrus Growers Store. Perhaps it was because he had 13 feet? Hmmmm…. This called for closer inspection. When I got to the gas station/Citrus Grower's Store, I found that free samples of the boiled peanuts were available, the oranges were indeed $1.00 a bag, and the alligator was stuffed - or fiberglass. He was arranged in such a way that I couldn't get close enough to give him a thump. To add insult to injury, he didn't have 13 feet - of ANYTHING, except that HE was 13 feet LONG. What a disappointment. Guess what was for sale though? Hundreds of severed and dried marble eyed alligator heads were for sale. WHOO HOO. They make an excellent business card holder. I know, I put a bunch of the "Gail Purtan" cards in their little mouths. I filled the bike up, made notes about the FOUR footed (not 13 footed) alligator like model, and headed for the dealership.

Kevin wrote me up at the Gainesville Harley Davidson dealer (info@gainesvilleharley.com) and the bike went in to get new tires put on, just so I had piece of mind. When it came out of the shop, I didn't recognize it. The new Metzler tires were on, but the bike was CLEAN. The technician said that they had to go find some hammers and chisels to get the month's worth of crud off of the machine. I believed him, too.

The day was already strange, what with that fake 13 footed alligator, and I thought it couldn't get any stranger. Tom, the flatbed tow truck driver started talking to me, after he delivered a machine to the dealership. Hello Rod Serling. He told me a story about his 24 years of marriage that defied description. His now ex wife got involved with some heavy drugs and the Reader's Digest version of the story is that Tom now has to start over. I guess it is legal in Florida for a wife to sign her husband's name on documents. You know, documents like a number of new interest only loans, and re mortgaging the house and credit card applications and new car loans. He'll be digging out for years.

I jumped on I 10 to get over closer to Pensacola and started west. This is a first! I am moving west. That means that the Northbound part of the west coast is pretty much over. The day wore on as mile after mile of very flat cattle pasture passed me by. There was one sobering moment when the distant sight of a large number of blue and red flashing lights greeted me as I came around a curve. This seemed an inordinate amount of emergency vehicles for a traffic stop. Florida State Patrol officers use a "wolf pack" type of traffic enforcement. One car, usually hidden from view, hits a laser tag gun on a speeder, then radios ahead to the next Trooper in the taxi line. Off he goes to apprehend the scofflaw, and it is the next trooper's turn. I have seen these guys hiding between parked trucks at rest stops, and on the overpasses. The taxi stand of Troopers is usually about a half mile down the road.

This wasn't a traffic stop. A large flatbed truck had a tire disintegrate from the trailer. When that happens the resulting tire tread, with its steel belts, comes off the tire body and snakes down the road with incredible force. The truckers call them "alligators" because of the resemblance to the back and tail of an alligator (even 13 footed ones). The tire that shreaded caused a pickup towing a flatbed trailer full of riding mowers and gas cans and weed whackers to run over the carcass. This caused the pick up to lose control and flip over, with the trailer following suit. Everything was all over the road. I don't know if the driver of the pickup was hurt or not, but everything was a total loss. The resulting fire burned everything.

NOTE TO SELF: DO NOT FOLLOW CLOSE BEHIND TRACTOR TRAILER RIGS. YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN ONE OF THOSE TIRES WILL SELF DESTRUCT
Shortly after seeing that, it was time to pull off for gas and dinner. Ewwww. I saw a sign for the following "JIMMY'S - THE ONLY REAL HAMBURGER IN THE SWOUTH". Well, with THAT having been said, how could I NOT pass up that challenge. When I pulled into Jimmy's, I found that it was a gas station restaurant, just like the Burger King/gas station across the street. When I opened Jimmy's front door, I knew that things were going to be …. Lets just say that the Burger King was looking very good. I was determined to taste the local food, however, and Jimmy had issued a challenge. I sat down and asked for a menu. The Cook/waitress silently pointed to the rack on the table. I smiled and thanked her. She turned around and walked away.

Uh oh.

When she came back, I asked for my usual diet coke, and WITH A SMILE (wink wink, nudge nudge) I asked for the only real hamburger in the south. The lack of reaction from her was ominous. I was asked if I wanted the platter. Keeping my smile pasted on my terrified face I nodded yes, and specifically - while still smiling - said THANKYOU.  This was not going to be a memorable repast. Well, I guess it was, but not for the reasons I thought it would be.

While waiting for the south's best hamburger PLATTER to arrive, I watched  a real skinny truck driver with coke bottle glasses come out of the mens room, and lean heavily on the back of the first chair of the lunch counter. I thought he was trying to escape his own….uhm, well, if you remember the scene in "Pet Detective" when Jim Carrie comes out of the bathroom, you get the idea of what I thought was going on. He was obviously trying to catch his breath. He got off the counter and walked down three chairs and repeated the process. It took him quite a long time to  make his way out of the "restaurant". I realized then that he was suffering from a smoking related situation, based on the paleness of his skin and the large number of cigarette packs in his t shirt pocket.

Once he made it out the door, my "South's only REAL hamburger Platter" was tossed on my table without much ceremony and lacking the usual waitress greeting of "ENJOY". This waitress/cook knows something. I looked at dinner. I wondered about whether or not I would need that men's room in short order.

"What to do????"

As I was pondering whether to run - do not walk - from this place, a man's very large beer belly came around the corner, followed a few seconds later by the proud owner of said massive mountain of flesh. He was on the cell phone and talking VERY LOUDLY about some asshole trucker that he and the other person on the phone knew. I watched in fascination as he walked - waddled - shuffled - hauled - by. His head had been worked on very hard. HIS HAIR LOOKED LIKE A COSTUME SHOP PARODY OF ELVIS HAIR STYLE. This guy was actually combing his SIDEBURNS around his ears!!!!! He had more sideburn hair on either side of his head than I have anywhere on my person. His carefully sprayed and "poofy" hairstyle was something to behold. "And he was looking cool". You could tell by the way he acted. He was the shit. I was trying to figure out how to take pictures in this place without being terminated, and was unable to come up with an idea that would work. Everything I came up with required a partner to catch the camera and run, while I was eaten or otherwise rendered lifeless.  I finished my hamburger. Did I tell you that the place had a floor made of 12" square grey and black tiles? It was very disturbing. What was disturbing was the fact that the grey tiles used to be white.

I paid for my "South's only REAL hamburger platter" and left. While walking back to the bike, I noticed an ostrich looking over the top of the "Jimmys" sign. After blinking the sun out of my eyes, it was still there. I got out the camera and turned around. It was gone. OK, Rod, you can tell me where you're hiding the cameras now.

I put the camera strap around my neck and walked around the "Jimmys" sign. There were four ostriches and one emu grazing in the field next door. I put the camera up to my face and started taking pictures. One of the ostriches looked up - he was taller than me - and came closer. I wasn't worried because I had the zoom lens on and the damn thing was looking big because the lens made him look that big. I kept shooting pictures - boy these are going to be good - just as it grabbed the lens. SHIT I DIDN'T HAVE THE ZOOM OUT - I pulled on that camera and he started hissing. The problem was that ostrich breath is really indescribably bad. I don't know what they eat, but "whew" it is really some bad shit. They need to brush their beaks more often. I lumbered away from the fence, fixed the lens and started shooting again.

At some point in time, I traveled through to the central time zone.  My phone changed times, but my body still thinks it is on Eastern Time. It isn't. I arrived at my destination at 11:30 MY time, but it was only 10:30 PM here in western Florida. I am staying with the sister of a former Corps family member. Carol Hines sister Pat is putting me up for the night. I worked out the miles driven today and it amounted to just over 600 miles, one of the longest runs of the trip. It would not have taken as long, had I been able to keep from putting new tires on the bike.
 

JULY 6, 2006 - NO TRAVEL TODAY, I'M TOO TIRED TO BE SAFE

Regardless of my desire to keep moving, I also know that to get on the motorcycle today, would be a very dangerous decision on my part. I am fatigued from the run yesterday, and that would be a dangerous situation for me. I know that I will hit Alabama shortly after starting this run, but that will be tomorrow morning. No riding today. I'll just clean the bugs off the windshield. Once last night, I was hit with some kind of insect in my left leg that just hurt like hell. It might have been some kind of "hard" insect like a june bug.